by Sewell, Ron
On the completion of twenty lengths, he grabbed his towel and dried his body vigorously. He patted his stomach muscles. Not bad, but a bit more exercise wouldn’t do any harm. For a few minutes he relaxed on a lounger, soaking in the morning sun before returning to the house to shower and dress.
Mary stood on the veranda next to Bear as he ordered a huge breakfast.
She turned, smiled, and winked at Petros.
“Could I have a glass of fresh orange juice, brown toast and marmalade? Coffee, black, please.”
Mary nodded and walked away.
“PK, do you think there’s something between Mary and Jacob?”
“He keeps it to himself if there is and to be honest, I don’t care.”
“Guess you’re right. It’s nothing to do with me. Jacob left early this morning.”
“You’d start work early in this climate. Don’t you remember our army days when on the odd occasion we worked tropical routine? An early start while the cool of the morning made it almost pleasant to be working and we’d finish at one o’clock.”
“If I recollect correctly, those days were few.”
They finished eating and for a while chatted. Petros checked the time – twelve-thirty.
“The sun’s well over the yardarm, Bear. I could murder an ice-cold beer.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll get two from the fridge.”
Bear returned with two full pint glasses. “I wanted two cans but Mary insisted that gentlemen drink from glasses.”
They sipped their beer and relaxed on the veranda until Jacob returned.
“Time you two made tracks to the airport. Get your gear and we’ll be on our way.”
At the drop-off point, they all exited the car.
“Thanks for organising the flight and for your hospitality, Jacob,” said Petros. “If you ever visit London give me a bell and I’ll have pleasure returning the favour.”
“And you can tell your Mary that she cooks a mean steak,” said Bear. “Thanks a lot, Jacob.”
“Without your help in the past, I wouldn’t be living this life. Take care and keep in touch.”
They checked in and the young woman behind the counter informed them that their flight would be leaving in forty minutes from gate six.
Petros and Bear sat in the first class lounge, drank coffee and chatted.
“Those diamonds, PK. It crossed my mind they possibly weren’t exactly legit.”
“That thought occurred to me as well when I opened the bag. I hear the Namibian authorities are rather tough on diamond thieves.”
“If we’d fluffed it and been caught, I don’t think they would have believed our story.”
“I’d like to think they were kosher. Let’s face it, we could have pointed a nasty finger at the captain and ship owner.”
“Perhaps you’re right but I’m still left with a nasty taste in my mouth.”
As the only first class passengers, they boarded immediately the gate opened. With the choice of seats, Petros strapped himself into an aisle seat and Bear a window. Both declined a glass of champagne. Petros asked for fresh orange juice and tonic while Bear requested a pint of Guinness.
The senior cabin crew member, a tall, thin, smartly dressed man, offered them the English daily papers. Petros took The Telegraph and Bear, The Daily Mail.
They waited for the rest of the passengers to board. Petros did his best to be calm, letting his eyes wander around the spacious cabin. For the umpteenth time he checked his seat belt. He never had a problem when he himself controlled dangerous situations, but strapped in a seat at thirty-five thousand feet and his life in the hands of others, always unnerved him.
The Boeing seven-four-seven lumbered towards the main runway. He wished his own nerves would settle. As the aircraft picked up speed his hands gripped the armrests tighter and tighter. The take-off proved routine and he breathed a sigh of relief, relaxed and dozed, dreaming of Maria and wondering who his daughter took after. He awoke as the plane lurched and dipped. Rain pounded the windows while lightning illuminated the sky. The plane pitched and his body strained against the seat belt. Bear remained sound asleep.
Must be over Europe now, thought Petros.
One of the cabin crew, a blonde with large blue eyes, moved towards him.
“A touch of rock and roll tonight. The captain tells us that this will last for about the next twenty to thirty minutes and it’s not much better over London. When it calms down, if you want anything just ask?”
The aircraft began to rock violently, the rain pasting the fuselage. Through the window, Petros could see black storm-filled clouds.
“When you can, a cup of coffee and a sandwich would be good.”
“Would you prefer roast beef with horseradish or smoked salmon?”
“Salmon, please.”
Bear became instantly awake. “I’ll have a double-decker roast beef, Miss.” He rubbed his eyes. “No point in good food going to waste.”
She smiled and clung to the back of a seat.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“The world’s falling apart and you snore like a pig, but the mere whisper of food and you’re wide awake.”
“PK, I need sustenance on a regular basis. You should know that by now.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“What’s that got to do with it? And I’ll eat my breakfast.”
The seat belt signs flashed constantly.
“Sorry to disturb your sleep, ladies and gentlemen, although I think that last bump will have woken most of you up. This is Captain Giles Linton, your pilot. As you know, it’s a little bit bouncy outside. The Met Office has informed us that this weather front extends for quite some distance. I intend to make a slight alteration to our course and avoid the worst of it. We might be a touch adrift with our ETA for landing but I’m sure you would all prefer a smoother flight. I would ask you keep your seat belts fastened. Thank you.”
After a period of buffeting, the aircraft returned to level flight and the blonde came back with sandwiches for both men.
“Anything else I can get you?”
“No thank you, but my friend might want a couple more of those. I’d get them ready now.” Petros winked at her.
The woman, somewhere in her thirties, smiled and returned to the galley.
They were still half-asleep when the aircraft landed. After waiting in the queue at Passport Control, they collected their bags and headed outside. Unrelenting, the rain fell in torrents, filling the gutters and causing everyone to rush from one area of cover to another. Petros glanced left and right before he noticed the huge multi-coloured umbrella moving towards them. It tilted slightly and Jack Dunn, his stepfather, waved.
“Come on, you two, my car’s this way,” said Jack.
Once in the confines of the multi-storey car park Jack stopped.
“Congratulation, son, you have a beautiful daughter. I suppose you want to go straight to the clinic?”
“Silly question, Jack.”
Jack smiled. “The traffic around Harley Street at this time of the morning will be bloody murder.” His dark blue Mercedes glistened in the dull light.
“I expected the van, Jack, not the royal treatment.”
Jack’s right hand clipped Petros on the back of the head. “Do you think your mum would let me take you to one of the best clinics in London in a van?”
“Point taken.”
One hour elapsed before Jack, frustrated and cursing every other driver, stopped his car outside Queen’s Clinic.
“I won’t come in, PK,” said Bear. “I’ll see the ankle-biter after you and Maria have done the mushy bit. You know what I mean.”
“Hey, if you don’t stick your head in and say hello, she’ll be upset.”
“Okay. Jack, you go home,” said Bear. “I’ll get a taxi.”
“No way. I’ll drive round the block and pick you up on the way back.”
Petros, with Bear trailing behind, strode
through the double doors towards Reception.
As he approached, a young woman with an angular face glanced up and smiled. “Good morning, Sir. Can I help you?”
“Maria Kyriades. She’s just had a baby.”
The woman’s deep brown eyes twinkled. “You must be Petros. Your wife said you’d be arriving sometime this morning. Room two ten. Take the lift to the second floor and it’s third on the left. You have a beautiful daughter.”
His face flushed as a glow of pride grew inside him. “Thank you.”
He found the door to Maria’s room and opened it. She stood at the picture window, her back facing him.
“Hi, gorgeous. Sorry no flowers. Didn’t have time.”
She turned with open arms and held him close as he kissed her passionately.
“Hi, Maria,” said Bear. “PK insisted I come and say hello.”
“And so you should.” She kissed him on both cheeks.
A gentle whimper came from the crib on the other side of the bed.
“Can I pick her up?” said Petros. “She’s so small.”
“Shape your arms like a cradle and lift, supporting her head.”
Nervously he lifted the baby and held her. Her right hand reached out and touched his.
“She’s like her mother – beautiful. What do you think, Bear?”
Maria moved beside her husband. “I believe you’re slightly biased.”
“She’s gorgeous. Good job she takes after her mum,” remarked Bear.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I can feel her as she breathes. She seems so content.”
“That’s because I’ve just fed and changed her. Alysa has a good voice and is quick to let you know if something’s not right.”
“Maria, I’ll be off or Jack’ll get a parking ticket.”
“Bear, will you and Jocelyn be God-Parents to our Alysa?”
“I’m honoured, even though I don’t do the God bit, Maria, but it’ll be a pleasure. I’m certain Jocelyn will be delighted. Must dash. See you.” With a haste that defied his size, he spun around and left.
“When are you coming home?” Petros said, holding Maria’s hand.
“A few more days. The doctors want to make sure there’s no infection. Talking of home, do you want our daughter living on a boat?”
Petros gazed at Alysa. “There’s nothing wrong with my boat, plenty of room.”
Maria frowned. “For me and you but we need room for a cot, buggy and a bath for Alysa, plus somewhere for her clothes. A house would be better.”
“If you want a house, that’s fine by me. But I keep my boat.”
Maria hugged him. “We have a year before she starts to walk, plenty of time to find somewhere with a big garden. Oh, I forgot to mention. Your mama has already filled the boat’s lounge with everything Alysa will need for the next six months. I told her not to but I don’t think she listened. Poor Jack has been running all over the place.”
He laughed. “Little Alysa is special to Mama. She’s part of my father and that makes her different from her other grandchildren.”
“She has Cypriot parents, and Mama and I want her christened in Cyprus.”
“Once we’ve sorted a few things out, I don’t see a problem. Your aunt Eleni will love Alysa.”
“You’re tired. Why don’t you go home and sleep.”
“I could do with a few hours rest. If there’s something you need, I’ll bring it in this evening.”
“Go home.”
He kissed Alysa and placed her into the crib. For a moment, he held Maria to him, the smell of her body tantalising. With a kiss on her lips, he lifted his bag, turned and left. Being a father thrilled him, but Maria’s words struck a chord: any boat, no matter how luxurious, was not the ideal place to raise a child.
* * *
Maria returned to her bed, rested on top of the covers and closed her eyes. Alysa murmured in her sleep. Why hadn’t Petros been with her during the birth? she asked herself, knowing the answer. When they first met, she understood he would go away often. In the beginning, every homecoming was another honeymoon. Now, with Alysa’s arrival, everything would change. When her mother died she coped on a daily basis with her father and four brothers. In fairness, when she was at university, her father did hire a Philippino girl to clean and cook
She loved Petros and thanked God he was back.
Chapter Five
Greek Cypriot land near Famagusta – 2002
The brothers Alexis and Yannis marked out the ground and started to dig.
“Why you took this, instead of money, I don’t know.” Alexis waved his hand. “It’s fit only for goats and snakes.”
“You know I won it playing poker,” said Yannis as he wiped the sweat from his eyes. “There’s water somewhere here and when I find it I can grow whatever I want.”
The sun crept ever higher in the deep blue sky, its searing heat making any work arduous. The two of them dug into the dry soil and dumped it into buckets. When full, they lifted and emptied them a few metres away. For shade they sheltered under a tattered canvas canopy.
One year out of Nicosia University, twenty-two year old Yannis remained a lanky individual. In the bright sun, his grey hair, a defect from birth, shone with a silvery hue.
For five days he and his older brother dug, removing countless buckets of stones and sand-coloured earth. In the heat of the midday sun Alexis rested but Yannis continued. Living in hope, he ambled back and jumped into the three-metre pit.
This time, the ground quivered beneath his feet and the dry earth swirled like water. A vortex formed and his feet vanished.
“Help,” he screamed. Disorientated and frightened, he lay in the gloom, staring up at a circle of light. He moved his fingers and toes: no pain. He spat the dirt from his mouth. “Help …” he managed to croak.
The sun silhouetted Alexis’s head.
“Yannis, are you all right?”
“No bones broken. Alexis, get me a flashlight, quickly …”
At last Alexis lowered a torch on a piece of string. Yannis grabbed it and switched it on. His dark eyes filled with amazement at the stonework surrounding him. Stonemasons must have cut these to build this circular chamber, he concluded, each perfect in shape and size. He knew that in the past, men belonging to a village would dig ten to fifteen wells. Connecting tunnels enabled water from the aquifer to flow by gravity from one to another.
Working feverishly, he positioned the torch and with his hands he cleared away as much of the earth close to the stones as he could.
“Alexis! Drop me a bucket,” he shouted. “I need to clear this rubbish.”
“Do you need any help?”
“No.” His eyes studied an ancient mason’s mark. “No, Alexis. If I find anything, I’ll shout. Just keep lifting the buckets.”
Broken rocks and rubble made the excavation difficult. Yannis laboured, while Alexis pulled full buckets from the pit. The worked stones took shape and he noticed from its different size the beginnings of a keystone. Excited, he called out, “Alexis, I’ve found something.”
“I hope it’s water.”
“Lower yourself. You’ll find this interesting.”
In a cloud of dust and stones, Alexis dropped down beside Yannis. “It’s a wall. Wonderful?”
Yannis shone his torch at the stone wall. “It’s Roman. It’s definitely Roman!” His voice soared with enthusiasm. “I need to excavate more before I’m certain.”
Alexis rubbed his hand across the smooth stone. “Years at university,” he mocked. “It’s water we want – not an abandoned well.”
“You are thick, my lovely brother. We have discovered – Roman history.”
“History will not grow crops and make money.”
Tired yet elated, Yannis agreed. “In the morning I’ll remove this.” He pointed to the ground. “And we’ll see what it means.”
“Yannis, I’ll help you one more day. After that, I’m back to father’s vineyards. At least he pays
me.”
“Tomorrow we will find something important. You wait and see.”
* * *
The brothers arrived at the site early. With one aim Yannis lowered an aluminium ladder into the pit, descended and began to dig.
The muscles of Alexis’s short, stocky frame, an inheritance from his father, flexed as he dragged full buckets to the surface. Time passed but despite their efforts, the depth increased no more than a few feet. Late that afternoon Yannis uncovered more of the arch. The conditions in the pit became hot and oppressive. Alexis insisted on food and water breaks.
Covered in sweat-soaked dust, Yannis dug until a gap opened at the base of the arch. Uneasy, he stared into the dark. Should he crawl into the unknown? He found the torch, forced his head and shoulders through, his muscles tensed for a rapid retreat. Could it be a nest for snakes?
“Can't stand snakes,” he muttered. “Black or green, I hate them.”
He peered into the dark, his eyes growing accustomed to the gloom. The beam of light picked out the curved roof; the tunnel appeared to be about two metres wide and three metres high. The superb curvature of the roof gave the impression of being Roman in design and construction. The builder had used clay tiles interlaced with mortar. Reluctantly, he dragged himself further in until he slid uncontrolled to the bottom. He stood, brushed the dust off and shone the torch along the passage.
He took a deep breath. The air smelt fresh, not stale as he had expected. His thoughts remained lucid as he ambled further into the tunnel, noticing that the ground fell away at a steep incline. The dark deepened and he considered his options. Without proper lighting it would be reckless to continue. He had to go back.
The sand from the pit proved difficult to climb, but gasping for breath, he ascended the ladder.
“What did you discover?” asked Alexis.
“Can’t say until we check it out.”
“Tomorrow sounds good to me,” said Alexis. “Time for home and food.”
Resigned to going along with his brother’s wishes, Yannis sat in the cab of the battered L200, weighing up his options while Alexis drove, taking a direct route across fields and through vineyards. Thankfully, the sun had begun its decent and a refreshing breeze blew across the land.