Summer in Greece

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Summer in Greece Page 20

by Patricia Wilson


  Harry studied his watch. ‘Eleven thirty, quick, we’re running late! We have to get back to Syntagma Square for something very special!’

  They raced down to the street, jumped on a packed bus without a ticket and hoped an inspector didn’t get on. When he did, they squeezed through the other passengers and got off from the middle doors, laughing like naughty children. A short taxi ride took them to the houses of parliament.

  ‘You’ll have to jump out at the lights, is not allowed to stop now because the Evzones are changing guard,’ the taxi driver said.

  Harry paid the driver. He pulled up sharply and they both leapt from the taxi, the door nearly taking out an enraged scooter rider. The square was crammed with locals and tourists.

  ‘Let’s see if we can get a better view. Put your biggest lens on the camera,’ Harry suggested. ‘Right, now come on!’ He took her hand and tugged her around the tourists to a policeman on crowd control and Harry spoke to him in Greek. As a result, the officer directed them to a spot with a good view.

  ‘This is amazing, thank you,’ Shelly said. ‘I’ve never seen so many soldiers. Just look at the uniforms, and they’re all so tall and handsome.’

  ‘It’s part of the requirement.’ Harry was beaming with pride. They watched the changing of the presidential guard until Harry said, ‘Come on, it’s almost over, let’s get away before the crowd starts to move.’

  ‘Where are we going now?’

  ‘The best museum in Greece, you’ll love it! Come on, keep up.’

  CHAPTER 24

  GERTIE

  Greece, 1916.

  MY HEART WENT OUT TO Perkins. He put on a brave front, but inside I guessed he was struggling to retain his sanity. I tried to imagine how it must feel to suddenly discover part of your body is elsewhere, missing in action. He frowned a lot now, especially when he thought nobody was watching. But when he caught me looking at him, his cheeky grin that touched me so deeply returned.

  ‘No nonsense now, Corporal. You must get some sleep,’ I ordered, trying to hide the affection in my voice. ‘You’ll need all the strength you can get if you’re going to be out and about tomorrow.’ I kissed two fingers and placed them on his forehead.

  ‘Now I really will have sweet dreams,’ he said, closing his eyes, his face expressionless without the pain. For a moment, I saw a different person, a young man who laughed with the boys, who hugged his mother and shook hands with his father. A man who wanted to play football, and dance with pretty girls. A man who loved his job, took pride in whatever he did, and in his appearance. As I looked down on him, I sensed his alternating euphoria and depression and the confusion that his mood swings caused.

  Josephine had told me many things about amputees and what they went through. Phantom-limb pain, jumpy-stump, acute depression. When I became a qualified nurse, I wanted to specialise in this field, to try to make amends.

  ‘Be careful,’ Josephine said quietly from her desk. ‘Your job is to take care of his body’s healing, nothing more.’

  *

  Later, I walked around the harbour and sat on the chest with one of my letters.

  ‘What are you reading?’ Manno asked, sitting beside me, a little too close for comfort.

  I moved to the edge. It wasn’t correct for a man to sit in such close proximity without so much as an invitation. ‘It’s private,’ I said. ‘From my mother.’

  He moved closer again.

  Annoyed, and determined to hold my claim on the chest, I got up, walked around him, and sat at the opposite end. Manno frowned at me.

  I bit my lip to stop myself grinning. ‘Stay over there, please.’ I pointed at his end of the chest.

  ‘I like you,’ he said, his words stoking the heat already smouldering in my cheeks. ‘Is no problem. You don’t want to talk with me.’ He shrugged and put on a dejected look, which I understood was play-acting. ‘I was thinking to take you to see your dolphin, but if you no want, is all right.’ He turned away from me and stared across the sea.

  ‘What? You know where he is?’ I sat down.

  ‘But of course . . . We are very big friends, me and Delphi.’

  ‘I can’t go anywhere without a chaperone.’ I stretched my neck and looked away.

  ‘I understand, you do not trust yourself alone with me? This is perfectly normal. I have the same problem with many girls.’

  ‘You are too bold, Mr Manno, I suspect you’ve been told that before too. I would love to see the dolphin again, but I have a certain responsibility here. Poor Corporal Perkins has lost his foot.’

  ‘Then he will never marry, poor man.’

  ‘Of course he’ll marry. Why shouldn’t he take a wife once he has a new foot and is back at work?’

  Manno pulled in his chin. ‘Bah! You think so? In Greece, only perfect men take a wife. If there is something wrong with a man, like only one foot, then the family hide him away.’

  Yianni, who sat patiently in his boat, shouted towards us. ‘Manno, ela!’

  ‘I will leave you to your work, and get on with my own,’ Manno said. He stuck his arm out. ‘It is the custom here, if someone saves your life, you shake hands with them each time you meet.’

  This seemed such a charming custom, and I had noticed a lot of handshaking went on between the islanders. I reached out and took his hand. ‘Then I must say: thank you for saving my life.’

  ‘Manno!’ his father called.

  Manno lifted my hand and quickly kissed the back of it, then turned and leapt into the boat.

  ‘Manno! You are so bad!’ I called.

  He grinned, released the mooring ropes then pushed the vessel away from the quayside. ‘Until tomorrow!’ he shouted. ‘I will give your good wishes to Delphi!’

  Yianni cranked the engine and it spluttered into life. The boat turned away from the town and motored down the centre of the harbour. I watched until the fishing boat disappeared past the lighthouse of St Nicholas.

  *

  ‘Goodnight, Gertie,’ Josephine called that evening as I walked out of the school room.

  ‘Goodnight, nurse,’ I called back absently, my head full of Corporal Perkins. I could not get Manno’s words out of my head. Just because Perkins had lost half of his leg, didn’t mean he wouldn’t make a perfectly fine husband. Yet, knowing that some people would think like Manno filled me with sadness. It made me want to hold Perkins to me and tell him things would work out; that I would always care deeply for him.

  I gazed out over the darkening sea, following the path that Manno had taken. My heart filled with romantic thoughts of the fisherman. The evening was heavy with heat even though it was December. My pigeon would be flying through the colourful sky towards Athens. How wonderful it must be, I pondered, to soar through a sunset.

  Tomorrow, my parents would know their daughter had survived. Mother would cry and I could hear Father’s voice as he patted the back of her hand and said, ‘There, there, no need for tears, dear. Our daughter’s safe.’

  A flourish of red light swept over the firmament, dramatically silhouetting Kea’s iconic lighthouse. Manno would soon return from Syros with his fishing nets and sack of mail. Would he be thinking of me at that same moment? I turned towards the schoolhouse. Tomorrow I’d help Perkins to walk with the aid of crutches.

  I returned to Yiayá’s cottage where she pulled me to the table and served me a thick pancake filled with mild cheese, covered with a ladle of golden honey. I can honestly say it was wonderful. I discovered the word for delicious in Greek when I rubbed my belly and gave her an enquiring look.

  ‘Nostimo! ’ she squeaked with clear delight. ‘Nos-tee-mo!’

  I fell asleep thinking about dear Perkins, yet it was Manno who appeared in my dreams. Manno came to my bed, in my imagination. I felt myself drawn into the fisherman’s arms, imagined his kiss heavy on my lips, and felt his arms around my waist pulling me against his body. In my dreams, I would yield to his exploring hands, and I would boldly whisper loving words into his ear.


  Sensations I had never experienced before raced through me, not quite pleasure – not quite pain – something far more delicious exploded in the secret depths of me as sleep carried me away. I longed to feel his hands slip inside my bodice, or under my skirt. But, oh dear, I forget myself . . . yet my feelings for Manno were growing so strong that it seemed I had no control over my thoughts.

  *

  The next morning, I woke, lonely and withdrawn, continually turning over my memories of the awful sinking. With no confidante, I kept everyone at a distance in case, in a moment of self-pity, I dared to confess what I was responsible for. Why did I open the portholes and cause all those people to die such a horrible death? I was so upset, my insides trembled violently. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I could never give Corporal Perkins his leg back, or give those poor unfortunates their lives back. I was condemned to suffer for them all, and then burn in hell.

  The compensation was mine to give, and I could start to even up the scale by making Corporal Perkins as happy as possible. This wasn’t difficult. He kept telling me he was sweet on me. In truth, this gave me a thrill because I liked him too. If Manno hadn’t come along, complicating things, I could have liked Corporal Perkins above all others. Yes, I could even have loved him.

  But I feared Manno had stolen my heart. Perhaps this was my punishment, to relinquish the man I loved for the man I was indebted to.

  Outside, on the quayside, the sun sparkled on the water. A black and white cat romped with its kittens. A seagull strutted across a boat canopy. Women rushed to and from the bakery calling their greetings to each other, loudly, with determined merriment.

  In the bakery, the intoxicating smell of fresh bread made my mouth water. I greeted everyone, as was the thing to do, and bought three loaves. Villagers patted me like a child, touched my uniform and my hair. Their happiness rubbed off, and I gave a loaf to Yiayá, and the other two to Josephine.

  Breakfast, which I ate with Nurse Josephine and Corporal Perkins, consisted of warm, creamy milk over a brown rusk, and strong, bitter-sweet coffee.

  Josephine said, ‘Your pigeon will have arrived in Athens, and they’re probably sending a tickertape to England right now. It will arrive at your home town any minute, Gertie. I’m sure your parents will be relieved to hear you’re in good health.’ She spoke quietly, without her usual smile.

  ‘Thanks to you and your care, Josephine. I am beyond grateful.’

  ‘Just doing my job.’

  ‘What about your parents, do they know you’re safe? Where are you from?’

  ‘Tipton, north of Birmingham.’ She lowered her eyes for a moment. ‘My parents were killed in their beds by a Zeppelin bomb, in January this year.’

  ‘Gosh, how awful. I’m terribly sorry. I can hardly imagine what you’ve been going through.’

  ‘The raid was meant for Liverpool,’ she went on. ‘High winds blew the Zeppelin off track. My parents and sixty other village people perished that night.’ She lifted a napkin and revealed three apples on a dish.

  ‘A dolphin saved me,’ I said, the words coming uninvited, surprising me as much as Josephine. ‘I don’t know why I said that. It was the apple skin, it reminded me.’ I ran my thumb over the fruit. ‘Sometimes those terrifying moments come back so fiercely I want to cry. They are like . . . sobbing around my heart.’ I sighed. ‘That sounds awfully mad.’

  ‘Some doctors are talking about a thing called delayed shock. It’s a real condition,’ Josephine said. ‘When your brain tries to deal with something that is too awful, or too illogical for it to cope with. The anguish will fade with time.’

  I looked into her eyes and saw she was talking about herself as much as me. ‘How much time?’

  Josephine shrugged. ‘It’s different for everyone.’

  Perkins interrupted. ‘Can we try the crutches yet?’

  Josephine gathered herself with a stretch of her neck. ‘It’s early days, Corporal. We’ll adjust them for you after lunch. They have to fit perfectly, and we have to check your arm too, then we’ll move on to your mobility.’

  ‘Blimey, talk about the walking wounded, eh, nurse.’ The joke on his lips wasn’t reflected in his eyes.

  The door banged open. The hall was full of people peering into our room. Pavlo rushed in with no regard for the quarantine sign. ‘Nurse Gertie, a pigeon has come! There is a message for you in English. The mayor, is coming to read it. A ship comes for you.’

  ‘Thank God. At last,’ Josephine muttered.

  ‘Let’s hope they’re taking us back to civilisation,’ Perkins said. ‘I’ll go crazy if I have to stay in this damn room much longer.’

  ‘No point speculating,’ Josephine said. ‘I’m hoping to get to Lemnos, my sister’s nursing there. There’s been no news for months. Every day I wonder how she is. I don’t even know if she’s heard our parents have died.’

  She sighed so deeply I wanted to put my arms around her.

  Poor Josephine, I’d been so wrapped up in myself, I hadn’t considered her.

  ‘They’ll probably want us back home,’ Perkins insisted. ‘There’s bound to be an inquiry.’

  I sensed a hint of malice about him and with a jolt of fear, I turned and rushed out of the room, straight into the mayor. Panicked – I feared they had discovered the truth and were about to handcuff me. I tried to sidestep him but the teacher caught my arm. ‘Wait, we have news for you,’ he said, keeping a firm grip. Pointing at the QUARANTINE sign, he asked, ‘Is it safe to go in there?’

  I nodded, my mouth too dry to speak. The teacher steered me back into the classroom. The three Greek men stared at us, unsure how to proceed with such important information. The mayor cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and made what sounded like a formal announcement. Pavlo started to translate but the schoolteacher placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder before giving us the news himself.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, HMS Redemption has arrived in Syros to embark the remaining British survivors. You will go to Syros with the mail boat in the morning.’

  This is it; I’ll be in prison by Christmas, hated by those who lost loved ones, and my dear family shamed.

  CHAPTER 25

  SHELLY

  Dover, present day.

  THE TAXI PULLED UP OUTSIDE White Cottage. Shelly, lost in thoughts of Harry and her amazing holiday, stared at the house. The driver cleared his throat.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ she said, pushing the fare and a tip into his hand. ‘Daydreaming.’

  ‘I’ll get your suitcase. Good holiday, was it?’

  ‘Brilliant, but it’s always nice to get home.’

  ‘It is, indeed. Goodnight now,’ he said, after hefting her case to the gate. ‘Or should I say, ’morning as it’s near on two o’clock.’

  After a dreamless sleep that left her fully refreshed, Shelly entered the kitchen. The room smelled of beer, BO, and bacon. Her father and Bill Grundy were laughing and cooking a fry-up.

  ‘Morning, Dad, morning, Bill!’

  ‘How was the trip?’ Gordon asked.

  ‘I’ll tell you about it tonight, but I’m late for work – see you later,’ she cried, grabbing her bag and keys.

  ‘Ere, Shelly love, don’t you want some breakfast?’

  ‘No time, Dad.’ She kissed him on the cheek. ‘Must run. I’ll bring fish and chips in this evening, OK? Is everything all right? No problems?’

  They both nodded and shook their heads in a way that told her everything was fine.

  ‘See you later then. Try not to get into trouble!’

  *

  Shelly arrived at the surgery at the same time as Eve. ‘You look well,’ Eve said. ‘Did you have a good break? How was the diving, photography – and did you meet anyone outrageously sexy?’ She narrowed her eyes with a look of mischief.

  Shelly laughed. ‘Actually, yes, brilliant on all three counts. What have we here?’ She pointed to the doorstep where a dead goldfish lay belly up in a glass bowl. ‘Oh d
ear, not again.’ She opened a letter taped to the side.

  Deer Vet Shelly, can you make Bob bettor agane. I will come after skool with my mum. Thank you, Ann Jones, age six.

  Eve rolled her eyes. ‘Another poorly goldfish?’

  ‘Poorly as can be; Bob the third, deceased. Nip down to the pet shop when you get a mo’, would you?’

  ‘Only if you promise to tell me every detail of your holiday. It’s been so quiet while you’ve been away.’

  While they went about their work, Shelly recounted the basics, avoiding the subject of Harry, and dwelling on the laying turtle. At one point, she closed her eyes and could see Harry smiling across the restaurant table at her, which reminded her to go through the photos that evening.

  Eve, who knew her better than anyone, laughed. ‘Come on, no holding back now. I know you’re not telling me everything!’ Eve grinned. ‘Was there anyone special?’

  ‘Maybe . . .’ Shelly purposefully turned her eyes back to the appointment book. ‘I see we’ve got Mrs Jackson’s Dobermann in for a teeth clean this morning.’

  Eve nodded.

  ‘Can you prep, make sure we’re OK for Telazol, and that the anaesthetic machine’s set up and ready to go? Check the monitors and get the oxygen feed ready. They’re bringing him in just before we close for lunch so we can get on with the job right away. He’s so big, and has a real nasty streak when he gets anxious, I don’t want him hanging around.’

  ‘Sure, leave me to it. I’ve asked Mrs Jackson to muzzle the dog, after last time.’ Eve paused. ‘So, go on then, was he really gorgeous?’ she persisted, pushing her dark hair behind her ear and turning towards Shelly.

 

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