YANNIS (Cretan Saga Book 1)

by Beryl Darby

  ‘The house is cold and wet. The rain blew in on everything.’ Yannis tried to excuse himself.

  ‘That’s your fault. You shouldn’t have done so much for Christos. He’s quite capable of looking after himself.’

  ‘I have to help Christos if he’s going to help me,’ reasoned Yannis.

  ‘How much help did he give you when you repaired his roof? He watched you struggling and criticised from the ground. Did he ever tell you how to place the tiles, or even bother to thank you when you’d finished?’

  Yannis shook his head. ‘I just placed them where the old ones had been.’

  ‘So what did you need him for?’

  ‘Nothing really,’ Yannis had to admit. ‘But we shall need him if we are to repair things properly.’

  Phaedra shook her head. ‘That’s rubbish. You proved that when you repaired the house where you are now.’

  ‘He says I haven’t fixed the roof or corners properly. He doubts if it will last the winter.’ Yannis spoke miserably.

  ‘Then you’ll have to repair it as you go and prove him wrong. It’s not raining now, you and Spiro could fix that shutter you’ve been talking about.’

  ‘The rain will still come in the other window and the doorway.’ He shivered as he spoke.

  ‘Then go and find some more wood. Don’t be so defeatist, Yannis.’

  ‘I’m just so cold and hungry.’

  ‘I’ll make you a hot meal as soon as the boats have unloaded,’ she promised.

  ‘Have they come over?’

  ‘They’re almost here.’

  Yannis breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I thought we were going to starve. I’ll find Spiro and see what he thinks about fixing that shutter.’ Yannis rose to his feet and shivered again. ‘We might get a bit warmer if we were able to work.’

  For a week Yannis lay on his bed alternately sweating and shivering with a chill He was frustrated by his enforced inactivity, but had to admit that Spiro was right when he forbade Yannis to go out in the rain. Spiro and Phaedra tried to persuade Yannis to stay inside for another week, but he refused. ‘I want to see Panicos. I want to talk to him.’

  Spiro shook his head. ‘If you go wandering out to meet him you’ll probably get chilled again.’

  Yannis argued. He was well now and it would not hurt him to go out for a short while now it was no longer raining. He had to speak to Panicos urgently. Finally Spiro agreed to compromise.

  ‘I’ll go and ask Panicos to come up here. He hasn’t been well either.’ With that Yannis had to be content, although Spiro seemed to be in no hurry to fulfil his errand.

  Yannis noticed immediately how hollow-eyed and thin Panicos looked. ‘I hear you’ve been ill.’

  ‘Haven’t we all.’

  ‘Are you still in the church?’

  ‘There’s nowhere else to go and it’s reasonably warm and dry.’

  ‘How many of you are there?’

  Panicos shrugged. ‘I’m not sure, probably about seventy.’

  ‘Seventy!’ Yannis was horrified. ‘In that tiny church! Don’t you mind?’

  Panicos turned troubled eyes towards Yannis. ‘I hate it. We all hate it, but we have no choice. It’s worse than it ever was in the hospital. There’s no room, no air, the smell is beyond description,’ he shuddered,

  ‘How many are bed-ridden?’

  ‘About twenty.’

  Yannis sat thoughtfully. Panicos stirred uncomfortably and coughed.

  ‘Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?’

  ‘No, don’t go. I wanted to come down and see you, but Spiro thinks I should be wrapped in cotton wool. I’ve had an idea.’ Yannis waited for a reaction that did not come. ‘How is Christos keeping?’

  ‘He seems to be all right.’

  ‘Why do you think he’s keeping well when the rest of us appear to have been ill?’

  ‘How should I know? I’m not a doctor.’

  ‘You don’t think it might be because he has a dry, waterproof house?’

  ‘We’re dry and waterproof in the church.’

  ‘But you’re overcrowded.’

  Panicos nodded. ‘What are you getting at, Yannis?’

  ‘I want to try to persuade people to repair the houses and if they’re suffering now it could be a good time. Whilst the summer is with us it doesn’t matter if you’re living in the open. Now they’ve spent part of the winter herded together the idea of having your own house could be appealing. You know them better than I do. If I come down to the church who should I talk to first?’

  Panicos coughed again. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Will you help me?’

  ‘How?’ Panicos was suspicious.

  ‘Talk to them; tell them how much better it is up here.’

  ‘Is it?’ Panicos looked around critically.

  ‘It doesn’t smell.’

  ‘That’s because there’s only three of you.’

  ‘Exactly. If the houses were repaired small groups could live in them and they’d be healthier.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I know this isn’t perfect, but it’s better than being in the church. As soon as the weather improves I’ll be working on it again. By this time next year you’ll see a difference,’ boasted Yannis.

  ‘Maybe,’ repeated Panicos.

  ‘I thought you’d be enthusiastic.’ Yannis’s disappointment was reflected in his voice.

  ‘I’m sorry, Yannis. I’m too tired. I agree with you, but I just haven’t got your energy.’

  ‘When the sun shines you’ll feel better. All I want you to do is talk to them, persuade them how much better off they would all be. You mustn’t give in,’ Yannis urged his friend.

  Panicos sighed and rose to go. ‘I’ll try, but don’t expect too much. You’re a more persuasive talker than me.’

  Spiro returned and Yannis forestalled any speech on his part by asking him a question as soon as he entered. ‘Is it very bad down there?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Is that why Panicos is ill? What are the others like?’

  ‘I haven’t stayed inside long enough to find out. I just looked for Panicos and got out as fast as I could.’

  ‘I must go down there.’ Yannis began to search for his shoes.

  ‘Why? That would be foolish of you. Heaven knows what you would catch.’

  ‘Does it matter?’ Yannis gave a wry smile.

  ‘It does to those who have to nurse you,’ replied Spiro. ‘Besides, I’ve been talking to Kyriakos and he says that over-exerting yourself makes you ill.’

  ‘Over-exerting myself! I don’t think a walk to the church could be called over-exertion.’

  ‘I don’t mean that. He says that when you try to do things, physical things, like house building, it wears you out and you become ill more frequently until your heart stops.’

  Yannis looked at Spiro scornfully. ‘Do you really believe that?’

  ‘Well, it seems to make sense.’ Spiro shifted uncomfortably.

  ‘Have you got something wrong with your heart?’

  ‘Not that I know of.’

  ‘So why should you have a heart attack?’

  ‘He’s not talking about an ordinary heart attack. He’s saying that you make yourself more and more sick until your heart isn’t strong enough to beat any more.’

  ‘How long does this take to happen?’

  ‘I don’t know. He didn’t say.’

  ‘So,’ Yannis considered, ‘if I sit here and do nothing I’m likely to live for another forty or fifty years.’

  Spiro nodded.

  Yannis rose with alacrity. ‘In that case I’ll start working on something immediately. I don’t want to live another forty years, not even one more year. If working will bring me slightly better living conditions and an early death, that’s what I want.’

  ‘But, Yannis…’

  ‘But Yannis nothing! Do you want to go on l
iving in this misery for years and years? Wouldn’t you rather die? I certainly would.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re well enough to think about doing very much yet.’

  ‘Then with luck I shan’t have to do very much for very long. I’m going down to the church. You can come if you want or stay here.’ Yannis stood with his hands on his hips, daring Spiro to challenge him and attempt to bar his way.

  ‘I’ll come, if only to find out what hare-brained scheme you have in mind.’

  Silently Spiro followed Yannis to the church, knowing he would be expected to support his friend. Yannis pushed open the door and almost recoiled from the smell of decaying flesh and excrement that met him. Curious eyes followed him as he stepped cautiously around the mattresses spread over the floor and the assortment of debris that surrounded them. By the time he reached his objective a silence had fallen amongst the occupants and Spiro looked around uneasily. Yannis appeared unperturbed and began to speak, his voice cracking as he tried to pitch it loudly enough for everyone to hear.

  ‘My friends, I want to talk to you. You all thought I was crazy when I suggested we repaired some of the houses to live in during the winter. I made a house with my own bare hands. It isn’t very substantial, but it is better than living crowded together down here. Do you enjoy living like this? Wallowing in your own filth? It’s not your fault. You have to shelter from the elements. Imagine how much better it would be if you had a shelter of your own, just three or four of you living together. If we work together you could all have a home of your own by next winter. I’ll leave you to think about it. I’ll come back tomorrow.’

  Yannis was beginning to feel that he would vomit if he stayed in the fetid atmosphere very much longer. He began to pick his way carefully to the door, ignoring those who tried to stop him. Spiro followed him, shouting. ‘Yannis is right. You should listen to him,’ every few steps.

  Once outside Yannis leant against the wall and took deep breaths of fresh air. ‘Do you think it did any good?’ he asked Spiro anxiously.

  ‘I don’t know, but they must realise they can’t live like that each winter. I’ll be surprised if they manage to survive this one without all of them suffering from dysentery.’ Spiro glanced at the overcast sky. ‘Which houses do you have in mind to start with?’

  ‘Whichever are in the best repair. We haven’t a lot of choice. Our tools and materials are somewhat limited.’

  ‘Why don’t we have a look?’

  Yannis grinned. He felt he had won a major battle by managing to imbue a little enthusiasm into Spiro. They pushed open the rickety door of a house that stood a few yards from the storehouse and peered inside.

  ‘The back wall seems sturdy enough,’ observed Spiro.

  Yannis nodded. The wall had at one time been plastered over to hide the rough stones and apart from patches that were peeling, there seemed no evidence of collapse. The sidewalls were almost as good, but the roof was non-existent.

  ‘It seems it’s only the roof that needs renewing. That’s easy enough.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Spiro was sceptical.

  ‘Yes,’ answered Yannis firmly. ‘We need timbers that are the right length and tiles.’

  The next house they ignored, the back wall having crumbled to below window level and the sidewalls showing signs of falling at any moment.

  They moved down the path slowly, entering each house and studying as best they could the damage and discussing the easiest way to affect a repair. Out of the dozen houses they visited Yannis decided that four would be fairly simple to repair, two others were possible, but would take longer and the rest presented a very real challenge.

  ‘If it’s dry we can start tomorrow,’ decided Yannis. ‘We can collect timber and tiles. There are plenty of complete ruins up the hill. Between us we could move down what was needed, then gradually do some repairs and when a house is ready Panicos could offer it to three or four of them.’

  Spiro grinned. ‘What about your own house? I thought you wanted to work on that.’

  ‘I thought so too, until I saw how much better one of these could be. I’d rather live down here, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, if we stay together.’

  Yannis looked at his friend in astonishment. ‘What do you mean? I thought we would always stay together.’

  ‘You might want to get married.’

  ‘Me! Married! Don’t be silly.’ Yannis felt distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Besides, you might get married.’

  It was Spiro’s turn to look uncomfortable. ‘I’m all right as I am. Until either of us changes our mind we stick together, yes?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Yannis rested his arm across his friend’s shoulders.

  Kyriakos was sitting propped against a rock and he waved and called to them. ‘Boat coming.’

  Spiro and Yannis looked across the bay to see a small boat sailing towards them.

  ‘I’ll go,’ said Spiro. ‘I’ll see what they’ve brought and ask for some nails.’

  Yannis nodded. He still avoided being on the quay when a boat put in for fear of being recognised by anyone from his village. Spiro came back smiling.

  ‘Potatoes and goat meat. Phaedra said she would make us a stew tonight.’

  ‘Did you ask for some nails?’

  ‘They said they’d try to bring some next time.’

  ‘Fine. Let’s go up there and see what we can find.’ Yannis pointed to a house that had fallen completely and they proceeded to sort tiles from lumps of stone and pull lengths of timber to one side until the first drops of rain fell.

  For the next few weeks, whenever the sky lightened, they were out. If the buildings were too wet to work on they went searching for the materials they needed. It was a slow and laborious process, but eventually Yannis declared himself satisfied with the first house they had tackled. The ambulant occupants of the church had taken to stopping to watch their progress whenever they went down to the quay, commenting on the work that was taking place. Now the time had come for them to offer the property to someone they were faced with a problem.

  ‘I think the bedridden should have it,’ said Spiro.

  Yannis disagreed. ‘It would be better to have the healthier people there. They might even manage to do some running repairs. You can’t expect those who are crippled to replace a tile.’

  ‘I don’t think any of the fitter deserve it,’ argued Spiro. ‘Not one of them has even passed a nail up to us.’

  ‘What about the women?’

  Spiro thought about it. ‘That’s a better idea, but which ones?’

  ‘We’ll see Panicos.’

  Yannis insisted that Panicos met him outside the church, the air had grown fouler with the passing months and he did not think his stomach would be able to contain itself if he went inside. Panicos looked more haggard and shrunken than the last time Yannis had spoken with him and the pitiful sight changed Yannis’s intentions.

  ‘We’ve repaired a house,’ he announced. ‘Would you like to see it?’

  Sighing, Panicos nodded. He had planned to spend the morning trying to sleep. Dutifully he shambled along beside Yannis and Spiro until they stopped and opened the door, ushering him inside.

  ‘What do you think?’

  Panicos looked up at the rafters. No chink of light came through, or through the walls. The shutters and doors fitted tightly, the earthen floor had been stamped down to make it as hard as concrete. ‘You’ve worked hard.’

  ‘It’s yours.’

  Spiro sucked in his breath as he heard Yannis make the offer. This was not what they had planned. Panicos looked at Yannis with sad eyes and shook his head.

  ‘It’s a wonderful thought, Yannis, but I can’t live here.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s where Yiorgo lives in the summer.’

  ‘Is Yiorgo crippled?’

  ‘Pretty much; walking is difficult and he has only one hand.’

  ‘Then he
comes with you. Has anyone else got a claim to it?’

  Panicos coughed and they had to wait until he had regained his breath before he could reply. ‘Probably about ten other men.’

  ‘Are they crippled?’

  Panicos wrinkled his brow in an effort to think. ‘One of them is for certain, but the rest of his cronies seem fairly fit.’

  ‘Did they offer to help repair this house?’

  ‘No, you and Spiro did it.’

  ‘So the way I look at it, that gives us first claim and a say as to who we let live here. I say you live here and Yiorgo, his crippled friend and one other who must be fit.’

  Still Panicos shook his head. ‘There’ll be trouble.’

  ‘If there’s any dispute I’ll raze it to the ground,’ threatened Yannis. ‘Go and talk to Yiorgo. We’ll wait outside and move your things when you’re ready.’

  Standing outside the church waiting for Panicos to reappear Spiro rounded on Yannis. ‘I thought we were going to offer it to the women?’

  ‘I know, but I hadn’t the heart when I saw him. He needs a doctor.’

  ‘We all need a doctor! You’re stirring up a hornet’s nest, Yannis. Giving away a house that someone has considered their own for years is going to upset everyone.’

  ‘It might just make them realise that I’m serious about repairing them. If they think I’m going to do it and then hand them over they’re mistaken. If I do the work, I say who lives in it. If they bestir themselves and repair their own that’s fine by me.’

  They stood in silence waiting for Panicos to return. When he did so he had a wry smile on his face. ‘Yiorgo has agreed. The two of us, Costas and Lambros.’

  Yannis clasped Panicos’s hand. ‘We’ve made a start, we’ve really made a start.’ He turned to Spiro and held out his hand. ‘Thank you, my friend.’

  ‘Dare we go in and collect your mattress?’ asked Spiro, masking the sudden emotion he felt.

  A bought of coughing delayed the reply. ‘There’s no time like the present,’ Panicos tried to joke.

  The mattresses were heavy and unwieldy, but between them the two men managed to manhandle them out of the confined space and towards the door. Once outside they paused for breath.