Staying Out for the Summer

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘It is OK,’ Michalis said, getting to his feet and moving around to her side of the table. ‘Sit back down.’

  ‘What is it?’ She drew in a shaky breath. ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘Lucie, please sit.’

  It wasn’t a stroke. She was sure of that now, because even the wine flagon was wobbling a bit on the table. But the fact she didn’t know what it was terrified her even more. Her eyes went to Gavin, the egg chair rocking back and forth and still he carried on sleeping. Michalis’s hands were on her shoulders now, guiding her into her seat. She felt giddy and disorientated. Michalis took her hands in his. ‘Listen, it is going to be fine. It is just an earth tremor.’

  ‘What?!’ Lucie exclaimed. ‘An earth tremor! Do you mean an earthquake?’

  Already her mind was giving her movie-style scenarios where tall buildings were flattened and people were trapped for days, surviving on dust and excrement until rescue workers responded to their plight by picking up the vague vibrations of a well-known show tune knocked out on underground pipes…

  ‘There,’ Michalis said softly. ‘See… it is over already.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Lucie said, taking a breath. ‘Well… are you sure it’s over? What if it comes back? I… don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Listen,’ he said, gently squeezing her hands. ‘There may be a small aftershock later tonight… or maybe tomorrow… but there is nothing to worry about.’

  ‘In England earthquakes aren’t really a thing. Well, you know, unless you live near Leighton Buzzard.’ She gave a nervous sigh. ‘We have the occasional sonic boom from aircraft… but, you know, not the ground actually quaking.’

  ‘Lucie, I promise you, there is nothing to worry about,’ Michalis told her.

  ‘The house isn’t going to fall down while we sleep?’

  ‘The house isn’t going to fall down while you sleep.’ He hitched his head towards the egg chair. ‘Gavin did not even wake up.’

  ‘He’s a very heavy sleeper,’ Lucie remarked. ‘I don’t think even a hurricane sucking him into its vortex would actually get him to open his eyes. And he snores when he’s on his back. I can hear him from my room upstairs.’

  ‘Oh,’ Michalis said, sounding surprised. ‘You do not sleep together? In the same room?’

  ‘No… well, not usually. Not unless we’ve both had too much to drink, or eat, and we’ve fallen asleep talking… or apparently cut each other’s hair.’ She took a breath and endeavoured to be clearer. ‘Gavin and I aren’t a couple. We’re best friends. The very best of friends.’

  And Michalis was holding her hands in his, protecting her from an earth tremor, looking like he could replace David Gandy on any advertising campaign…

  ‘Loosely! Gaveen!’

  Lucie raised her eyes to the sky as Michalis finally let her go. Bloody Miltos!

  ‘Loosely, are you there? I have vehicle for you. Hey, did you feel the earth move just now?’

  Lucie got to her feet with a sigh and took a second to appreciate the good doctor again. She couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps the earth might have moved even more if Miltos had arrived a couple of minutes later…

  Twenty-Three

  Corfu Donkey Rescue, Doukades

  ‘It’s like one of those coco-taxis in Cuba. That’s what it reminds me of.’

  ‘I stand by my first comment. It’s a go-kart with a larger engine,’ Lucie answered, adjusting her sunglasses as they made their way to the paddock.

  ‘Ah,’ Gavin answered, jabbing his forefinger into the air. ‘No, because it has a roof.’

  Lucie shook her head. Their new mode of transport – provided by Miltos – was not the hire car Lucie had envisaged. Yes, it might have four wheels and an engine and it could seat four people. But, apart from the metal framework and the canvas ‘roof’ that reminded her of a wagon from a western film, it was more dune buggy than automobile. And once Gavin’s girdle bones had been shaken all the way back over the mountain again, Lucie was confident they would be swapping this lemon from the fruit van owner for a peach of a vehicle that included fully comprehensive insurance and actual doors.

  ‘Aww! Look at the donkeys! Cuteness overload!’ Gavin went bounding over towards the shelter, arms spread like he was either going to pick up one of the animals or was expecting an ass to embrace him…

  There were lots of donkeys just ahead, under a canopy that didn’t look so unlike the top of their vehicle. Shaded from the heat of the day, some were nibbling out of large green troughs, others were whipping their tails to relieve themselves of flies. They were all colours – brown, grey, black, white, a mixture of all four – and had varying degrees of hair. Some looked very fluffy, others had short, flat fuzz. All of them were cute, just like Gavin had said.

  ‘Anyway,’ Gavin said, turning his attention briefly away from a mule he was stroking as Lucie entered the enclosure. ‘Never mind your issue with our car, which was almost as cheap as free. I want to know what I missed last night with Dr Delish!’

  ‘What you missed?’ Lucie asked. She was trying to pretend that all her senses hadn’t started to jump to attention quicker than an exploding R rate. Nothing had happened. Michalis might have held her hands and it might have felt warm and protective and she might have had a whole lot of lustful thoughts momentarily but… it had been so long since she had felt anything remotely like it she wasn’t sure she was able to recognise the signposts.

  ‘I believe,’ Gavin began, fingers stroking the mule again, ‘that I was asleep at least an hour before Miltos span the egg chair around like it was part of a funfair and it propelled me into the day bed in a move worthy of an Ashley Banjo performance.’

  ‘We just talked. And I drank more of the flagon wine.’

  ‘Talked about what?’

  ‘Stuff.’

  ‘You are holding out on me.’

  ‘I’m not.’ She was. A bit. And although Gavin was her best friend, if she let on that perhaps she might find Michalis ever-so-slightly-a-little-bit-attractive, then he would take the lead on what happened next. And Gavin was as subtle as the absence of his eyebrows…

  ‘He likes paddleboarding,’ Lucie answered. She swallowed as a vision of the doctor in swimwear took a cruise around her brain.

  ‘I can picture it,’ Gavin said, an intake of breath whistling through his teeth.

  It wasn’t just Lucie having imagery then.

  ‘Did you get round to discussing his relationship status?’ Gavin asked, preening the donkey with a brush he had plucked from the fence. ‘Boys? Girls? Either? Or both?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Lucie admitted. ‘I thought “what’s your sexual preference” might be a touch too much for polite after-dinner conversation.’

  Gavin scoffed. ‘After dinner is usually when we crack out Cards Against Humanity.’

  ‘And I am so so glad you slept,’ Lucie answered.

  She turned her attention to a pretty white donkey with a long fringe, stroking her fingers down its mane. ‘But I did tell him we weren’t a couple. So he knows that “we” doesn’t constitute an “us”.’

  ‘And how did he respond to that?’ Gavin asked.

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘Well,’ Gavin began, dropping kisses on his donkey’s long nose. ‘Did he look longingly at me while I was swaying in the breeze and gently snoring?’

  ‘Gently snoring?’ Lucie said, with a snort of her own.

  ‘Or… did he look at you?’ Gavin asked.

  Her best friend raised his eyes from his new four-legged friend then and looked directly at her. And the heat really began to get to her. It was true, last night, with Michalis, had been the first time her heart had thrummed a different beat. Its rhythm had suggested that she was ready to consider more than nights out and evenings in with Gavin, more than Texas Hold ’Em with Meg, more than bedpans and observations on Abbington Ward. Romance… maybe.

  ‘My God!’ Gavin breathed. ‘You don’t have to say a word! I can see it all over your face
! Whether he’s gay or not… you like him.’

  ‘I… like him, of course. I mean… he did us a good deal on the chicken and he’s… polite and I—’

  ‘Imagined him in pleather shorts dancing to Katy Perry?’

  ‘No, that’s only you.’ Lucie took a breath. ‘I don’t know. Maybe, if any of my senses still work in relation to attraction, then… perhaps there was a small moment, after the earthquake, when he was holding my hands, that… maybe I felt something.’

  ‘What?!’ Gavin exclaimed. ‘What did you just say?!’

  ‘I know! I know! Me, the girl who never finds anyone even visually appealing in the pub, is getting moderately warm under the bra straps after two nights in Greece.’

  ‘Did you say earthquake?’

  ‘Oh, yes, that,’ she sighed. ‘It was quite scary at first, because everything felt wobbly and then I felt wobbly, but Michalis assured me it would be OK. He said they get tremors quite often in Corfu.’

  ‘And then he gave you tremors of a different kind.’ Gavin grinned. ‘I cannot believe I slept through my first earthquake. I mean… how?’

  Lucie began stroking the little white donkey again, fingers swirling in its coat, enjoying the stillness of the animal and the peaceful time to reflect here in the quiet of the sanctuary. She couldn’t help but think this was a gentle pursuit Meg would definitely have approved of.

  Gavin let out a sigh. ‘I’m not mad if that’s what you’re worried about. I mean, all the great, gorgeous guys with to-die-for cheekbones and lush eyelashes and muscles busting the sleeves of their doctor’s coats can’t be into men, can they? Or into men and not into me.’ He shuddered like that was close to an impossibility. ‘And what sort of a bestie would I be if I kept flaunting my none-too-shabby booty at someone who’s made my sister-from-another-mister imagine an earthquake.’

  ‘Well, Gavin, there really was a—’

  ‘No!’ Gavin interrupted. ‘Don’t say any more. We are taking you off the waiting list right now! This is going to be a literal surgical procedure.’ He patted the donkey like it was going to turn around and bray its approval. ‘We are going to irrigate your usual thought process and abort your misconceptions about relationships.’ He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. ‘Let’s think of Michalis as a barium enema, to help you evacuate the ones that weren’t good enough for you out of your psyche for good.’

  Lucie winced at his nursing analogy and put her hands over her donkey’s ears. She didn’t really want to hear it either.

  ‘Besides,’ Gavin breathed, smiling. ‘Even if I don’t pick up in Corfu. I’ve always got Simon and his hot Colombian back at home. I will be absolutely even more irresistible with a tan.’

  Shit.

  Twenty-Four

  Villa Psomi, Sortilas

  ‘Is there anything more, Mrs Spatoulas?’

  ‘There will be more warts?’

  ‘If you use the cream I have prescribed, in the way I have described, then no.’

  ‘I tried to tie a string around it. The string got caught on the door handle. I put a hole in my favourite dress.’

  It was all Michalis could do to suppress a laugh. It had been a long surgery session. Longer than the hours he had written on a notice and pinned to the door. He knew the villagers were taking advantage, but he had expected that for the first few sessions. He was hoping it would tail off.

  ‘Hello! Hello! Am I in time?!’

  As Mrs Spatoulas stood up from the chair, Michalis’s eyes went to the door of the studio and to Nyx, arriving in the room.

  ‘I have warts,’ Mrs Spatoulas announced to his sister like it was an accomplishment. ‘But the doctor says I will be cured.’

  ‘Are they infectious?’ Nyx asked, backing up against the wall a little so the woman had more room to pass. ‘Please say no.’

  ‘Not from two metres away,’ Michalis said, standing up himself. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Spatoulas. It was nice to see you.’ He looked at Nyx. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Not catching a lumpy virus, I hope.’ She pulled a face. ‘Listen, I know I am late. I know that we did not get to talk last night but…’

  Nyx had left the sentence hanging in the air and Michalis had no idea what was coming next. What was this even about?

  ‘He is in your car.’

  Still, Michalis was at a loss. He looked at his sister, confusion reigning. ‘Who is in my car?’

  ‘Papa!’ Nyx gasped. ‘What is wrong with your brain? I know we are a day late. I know we are not at the allotted time but… we are here.’

  His father had agreed to the examination and tests? Perhaps Michalis’s pause outside the church that morning, a hand on the effigy of the golden tortoise, the memories of his mama insisting on a Sunday visit to worship, had worked a miracle. And then his initial pleasure evaporated. ‘Why is he waiting in the car?’ Michalis asked. ‘Why is he not here with you?’

  ‘Ela! Come!’ Nyx beckoned, now backing out of the studio and onto the courtyard.

  Getting up and following his sister, Michalis walked out into the sunshine. It was another hot day and while he had been seeing patients he had also wondered what Lucie’s plans were. Before Miltos had arrived last night with some sort of half-car, there had been a moment, when he had been holding her hands, when something inside him had shifted. It was hard to describe, but those few short minutes of connection had felt warm and exciting and maybe like a sprinkling of opportunity…

  Dodging a large, fat four-line rat snake that shot across his path and slithered off into the garden, Michalis followed Nyx to his car. ‘Why did you drive my car? Could Papa not walk?’

  Nyx didn’t reply, just carried on striding forward and as Michalis rounded the raised bed of herbs, two grasshoppers leaping to another resting place, he realised that his dad wasn’t in the car. He knew this news had been too good to be true.

  ‘Hey, Nyx,’ Michalis began. ‘I do not want you falling out with Papa over this. You did your best, but he is so stubborn and he does not realise that we are only trying to help him.’

  ‘What are you talking about now?’ Nyx asked, flapping her hands in the air.

  ‘Well,’ Michalis began. ‘He has left. Got out of the car and walked back to the apartment.’

  Nyx snorted. ‘What is wrong with you? He would not get in the car at all. He is not gone.’ She sighed and reached forward. ‘He is in the boot.’

  Nyx pulled the lever and the back of the car opened. Dimitri was lying there, his hands tied together with, what looked like, latex gloves. And there was an apple in his mouth as if he were a roasted pig on display. There was also a very angry expression on his face. And Michalis didn’t blame his father at all.

  ‘Nyx! What have you done?’ Michalis yelled. He reached for his father then and, putting his arms underneath his body, Dimitri attempted to sit up.

  ‘What do you mean “what have I done”?’ Nyx scowled now. ‘You ask me to bring Papa here last night. He would not come. I had to resort to special measures today, like I said I would.’

  ‘He looks drowsy,’ Michalis said, as his father tipped forward, attempting to get out of the confines of the vehicle. ‘Did you give him something?’ He plucked the apple from Dimitri’s mouth and waited for a well-deserved onslaught of expletives. Nothing was forthcoming and Dimitri’s breathing was shallow.

  When Nyx didn’t immediately reply Michalis knew the answer. ‘Nyx, what did you give him?!’

  ‘Just a mild sedative.’

  ‘In God’s name!’

  ‘I do not know what you are getting angry about. This was your idea!’ Nyx folded her arms over her chest.

  ‘It was my idea for him to see a doctor. It was not my idea to drug him!’

  Nyx hissed a reply as Michalis aided his father to his feet and carefully walked him away from the car towards his surgery, untying the bindings around his wrists.

  *

  ‘How are you feeling now?’

  Michalis put a hand to his fathe
r’s forehead, observing the movement of his pupils. Dimitri slapped his hand away. A sure sign the man was feeling more like himself.

  ‘I am feeling like I wish I did not have children.’ Dimitri sent a glare across the studio to Nyx. Michalis saw his sister shrink further into the cushion on the cane chair. Her fingernails were in her mouth and she was chewing like she had when she was a child.

  ‘Papa, I am worried about you,’ Michalis stated.

  ‘Huh! Me! I would save your worrying for the person who drugged me, tied me up and put me in the boot of your car!’

  Nyx got to her feet then, pointing a finger at Dimitri. ‘You should not have resisted! All you had to do was turn up for an appointment with the doctor, your own son, and there would have been no force necessary!’

  ‘I do not need an appointment with a doctor!’

  ‘No?!’ Nyx screamed. ‘Well, what is it with the night rides on your moped, the not turning up for work and the eating fish?!’

  Dimitri scowled. ‘Eating fish is a life choice, not a medicine.’

  ‘Ha!’ Nyx said, turning to face Michalis then. ‘There it is! Did you hear it, Micha? Our papa saying the words “life choice”. There is definitely something wrong!’

  ‘Nyx,’ Michalis said firmly. ‘Please wait outside.’

  ‘I will not. Always I am treated like the baby. I am not a baby!’

  ‘Well stop acting like one!’ Michalis blasted. As anger got the better of him he stood, feeling his own blood pressure rising. He bit his lip. He shouldn’t have shouted at his little sister. This wasn’t her fault. He had started this. He took a deep breath.

  Taking a step towards Nyx, he placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Please, Nyx, I am sorry. Just, give me a moment with Papa.’

  Feeling the reluctance through her skin, Michalis dropped his head a little and tried to meet her eyes. Finally, she engaged, gave a small nod and shuffled through the doorway and out onto the courtyard. Michalis pushed the door closed and turned to face his father.