by Mandy Baggot
You killed Jonas. I hope you rot.
He had borrowed Nyx’s moped and headed out, winding around the mountain and then down to here, Kalami Bay. If there was one place guaranteed to settle his soul it was here. So many family times had been spent here, his mum and dad sharing a carafe of wine at this very taverna while he had his first taste of paddleboarding before it became so current. He’d had a bodyboard and a bamboo cane back then and it had sometimes taken him thirty minutes to even get on it and balanced. But once he’d been up there, centred, he’d glided out into the blue relishing the quiet to look for fish.
Now he was sitting at a table overlooking the pebble beach, a glass of ice-cold lemon-flavoured Fanta in front of him… a new SIM card waiting to be inserted in his phone. A brand-new number always felt like a fresh start. And it halted the messages for a while… but somehow never for good. This time though he had to do something additional, something more courageous. It was an action he had been too scared to consider as an option before. He pressed on a name, starting the call to Anastasia. Looking out at the gently rippling water ahead of him, he closed his eyes and prayed she would pick up.
‘Hello.’
As soon as he heard the voice of Thekli’s sister, Michalis was flooded with hard-to-handle memories that stopped him from immediately speaking. Thekli was so close to her sister. Thekli had told him how the two of them had grown up together in a tiny flat in Athens, sharing a single bed, because it was the only apartment their parents could afford. And that physical closeness had led to an unbreakable sisterhood. The family moved to Thessaloniki when Thekli was fifteen and it was only a few months after that when Anastasia met her now husband, Nikos. The bedroom sharing might have changed but the sisters had remained as close as ever during his relationship with Thekli. Anastasia was the first person Thekli had introduced him to and Michalis had liked her very much. It was clear from the outset what a big role Thekli’s sister played in her life and when Anastasia found out she was pregnant, Thekli was almost as excited as the mother-to-be.
‘Hello?’ Anastasia said again.
‘Hello,’ he responded, shifting his position in his seat. ‘Hello, Anastasia. It’s… Michalis… Andino.’
There was a loaded pause he should have expected, and then he realised he really should say more before she had the chance to end the conversation before it began. ‘Please, I know that you do not want to speak to me but…’
‘I do not think I am allowed to speak to you,’ Anastasia replied. ‘I am sure it was a requirement of the document I signed when the hospital paid me money.’
Her words were hollow. If he had thought there would be anger or sadness, or a combination of the two, he had been wrong. There was no emotion at all. Was that what happened? Did the devastation turn you numb?
‘Anastasia,’ Michalis breathed. ‘I know that saying how sorry I am again will not make things right. I know that things will never be right for you anymore but—’
‘What do you want, Michalis?’
The reply was firm, not quite brutal, but hard enough to remind him that he was at the edge of a precipice.
‘I have… heard from Thekli,’ Michalis said.
Another heavy sigh came next and he wondered if the ending of the call would happen now. He held his nerve and tried to focus on the swimmers in the bay and the family drifting out from the shore aboard a pedalo. But still no response came. Michalis adjusted the phone next to his ear. ‘Anastasia?’
‘Thekli… she is not well,’ Anastasia stated. ‘I have tried to get her to… see someone. But, you know, she has lost her faith in the medical profession.’
Michalis closed his eyes. It was not his fault. He had to remember that. He might take responsibility for an element of exhaustion hindering his performance last year, but he had not actually made any clinical mistakes in baby Jonas’s care. The hospital had paid out because they were scared of a scandal, worried a court case would show them in a negative light no matter if there was blame or not. Thekli had been the one to appoint her sister a lawyer. She had also been the one to be horrified at Anastasia taking a deal.
‘What has she said to you?’ Anastasia wanted to know.
‘The details do not matter.’
‘It must matter,’ Anastasia answered. ‘Or you would not be calling me.’
He nodded like she could see him. ‘It is… not for the first time.’ He swallowed as all the words Thekli had sent him washed over his shoulders like the water of the bay had earlier. ‘She has been sending messages and leaving voicemails for the past six months.’ He sighed. ‘To begin with they were regretful words, sad messages full of grief but… then they changed. There was anger. Calls in the middle of the night.’ He swallowed. ‘Threats.’
‘Michalis, I do not know what you expect me to say.’
He winced, the injury from his fall from Bambis reminding him of something else equally painful. The cuts and bruises he had treated with arnica. It was the reason he jumped when there was an unexpected noise. The cause of his searching the shadows, scared of what might be waiting for him.
‘Two months ago, three men attacked me in the hospital car park.’ He waited a beat before carrying on. ‘The next day Thekli, she sent me a video of it and… she said there was more to come.’
He closed his eyes and held his nerve. He wasn’t expecting sympathy. That wasn’t what this call was about. It was about letting a sister know that her sister was struggling more than she probably realised. And it was about trying to make this stop for all of them.
‘Michalis,’ Anastasia breathed. ‘You know I never blamed you for what happened to Jonas.’ There was a pause. ‘For what happened to my son.’
He blinked away rapidly appearing tears. He wanted to believe Anastasia’s words, but the buck had stopped with him whether there was intention and negligence or not. He had been over and over this again since that horrifying night, not sleeping, then when sleep had finally arrived he would wake shivering wondering if any of it was real.
‘And, I think, if Thekli is honest with herself she does not think you are really to blame either.’
Michalis blew out a breath and shook his head a little. ‘I hurt her.’
‘You broke up with her because you were fighting the virus,’ Anastasia reminded. ‘You were exhausted, barely living, I do remember.’
‘Thekli deserved someone who could give her more time.’
‘She knows that. Maybe she does not accept it yet, but she does know.’
‘Anastasia,’ Michalis said. ‘I want you both to be able to try to find happiness.’
There was a sigh down the phone that sounded like her whole heart was deflating. Perhaps this had been the wrong call…
‘You deserve that too, Michalis,’ Anastasia breathed. ‘And I am so sorry Thekli has been doing this to you.’
He didn’t know what to say next. There was so much he could say, but nothing seemed right or felt quite enough. He didn’t want to make this about his absolution. Anastasia had lost so much more than him. A baby. A son. Someone who wasn’t coming back. ‘I am sorry, Anastasia. Every day… I am so sorry for what happened to Jonas.’ His voice broke at the end of the sentence.
‘Thank you, Michalis,’ Anastasia said softly. ‘I think, no matter how hard it is, it is maybe time we all realised that, for whatever reason, it was God’s will that Jonas was called back to Him.’
He hated to believe that. Just like with his own mother and all those millions of people who had died last year – God’s will had a lot to answer for. One of the reasons he had gone into medicine was so he could do something when it was thought all hope was lost. How did you sit with the fact that things might really be out of your hands when you were a doctor?
‘You did the best you could,’ Anastasia whispered. ‘That is all anyone can do.’
Michalis closed his eyes again and took a deep inhale of the sea air.
‘I will speak to Thekli and I will make sure she does not
contact you again. Please, Michalis, I am sorry those men hurt you but… please could you consider not reporting this to the police. I hate to ask you this, but my sister…’ Her voice trailed off and Michalis felt the raw sound of emotion over the connection.
He opened his eyes. ‘I haven’t,’ he whispered. ‘And… I won’t.’
The blows the thugs had delivered that night, as painful as they had been, he’d seen as some kind of deliverance. When fighting back hadn’t been an option, because he was outnumbered, he had simply let it happen and waited until they’d reached exhaustion. Somehow, even as it happened, he had felt it wasn’t random. And afterwards, when Thekli threatened him with more, his thoughts had never been to make a report. It had always been about escaping. Except, as he was trying to find his peace in Corfu, there had always been this fear in the back of his mind that Thekli knew where his family lived. That it might happen again. This phone call would hopefully change things for the both of them.
He spoke again. ‘I just… want to try and find a way through what happened. And I wish that you can find a way through this too. No one deserves to be punished anymore.’
He heard Anastasia’s relief in her breathing. ‘You are a good doctor, Michalis. And people, they will always need good doctors.’
‘I do not know,’ Michalis said. ‘There is only so much we can do and sometimes it simply isn’t enough.’
‘But, the one thing you did achieve was… you gave Jonas time,’ Anastasia said strongly. ‘And you gave me time with him.’ She paused. ‘I know you pushed for medication others thought would make no difference. You did all you could for my son.’
He held onto that simple truth and gripped tight.
‘Goodbye, Michalis,’ Anastasia said. ‘And good luck.’
‘Goodbye, Anastasia,’ he whispered.
Fifty-Six
Villa Psomi, Sortilas
‘No wonder he wouldn’t bloody tell us where she was!’ Gavin exclaimed as they rushed down the short slope then dropped down the steps to the pool and terrace area. ‘She’s here! By our pool! I hope she isn’t expecting a water birth!’
Lucie’s legs were quaking like all her nursing training was dribbling out of her with every step she took. When she had worked in accident and emergency she had never known what to expect when someone was pushed through the door. It couldn’t be that hard to deliver a baby, could it? Except she only had TV dramas to go on. She’d never actually even been present at a birth before. Why would she have been?!
‘Do we need to get water and towels?’ Lucie asked Gavin.
‘Was that a joke?’ Gavin said, turning his head to her as they made their way across the plaka flagstones. ‘The very first thing we need to do is get rid of all these people. There’s almost a village here and… is that a priest?’
Lucie gulped. She couldn’t even see a pregnant woman for all the bystanders at the side of the water. Were they all really expecting experts to arrive and sort out this medical emergency? Pressure grew like a prevalent fungus inside her belly. What if she wasn’t up to the job? Where was the actual doctor? Why hadn’t Michalis answered her messages and calls? She drew her phone out and checked the screen again. Nothing.
‘Right!’ Gavin shouted, holding his hand in the air like he could be signalling to the pilot of an Airbus. With no one really taking any notice of him, he snatched the mati-topped staff from Melina and raised it as if he was commanding seas to part. ‘Listen to me!’
Even Lucie stifled her breathing a bit in case the noise punctured the now still atmosphere. Finally, as people seemed to retreat a little, she could see Maria. The soon-to-be mother was pacing strongly, her hands at the bottom of her very rotund stomach, lips moving like she was talking to herself. Her long dark hair was loose and her beautiful complexion looked a little dewy – probably from the exertion of contractions. They should definitely find out how far apart they were. If things hadn’t progressed too much then there was time for a doctor to get here. Even if the ambulance couldn’t get into the village, paramedics could surely bail out at the blockage and walk the rest of the way like the tourists had to.
‘Right, all of you, you need to leave, right now!’ Gavin insisted. Then he seemed to have a change of heart. ‘Not you,’ he said, one hand on Maria’s shoulder. ‘You’re the most important person here. You and your precious babies.’ He surveyed the others. ‘You, go! You, go! You… you stay.’ He was addressing Melina now. ‘You can boss people around and get us anything we need. I’ll start off the requests. There’s a flagon of wine inside the house. You can get that.’
‘For sterilisation?’ Melina wanted to know.
‘No, for me to drink. Steady nerves are required during labour.’ He looked to Lucie then. ‘I’ve left The Other Sharon Osbourne an urgent message.’ His attention seemed to be drawn to a man stood close to Maria whose manner was giving off all the ‘scared to death’. ‘Who are you and why do you need to be here?’
‘I am Damocles,’ he replied. ‘I am the father.’
‘Hmm,’ Gavin mused, eyes roving up and over him. ‘I’m not sure I believe you. You look very young to be her father.’
‘I am the father of the babies,’ Damocles added.
It was then Maria let out a scream like she was being disembowelled by wolves and clutched her stomach as if the babies were imminently going to burst out of the tight giant beach ball shape under her dress.
‘Time check!’ Gavin shouted and Lucie looked at her watch, ready to calculate what was going on.
‘What are we going to need?’ Gavin asked more of himself than anyone else. ‘Cloths, blankets, gloves…’
Maria’s wailing seemed to calm a little.
‘I have knives.’
Lucie looked up to see Nyx standing a short way away from them. ‘Nyx… where’s your brother?’
She shrugged. ‘He left early this morning. He did not say where he was going. I have tried to call him… but there is no answer.’
‘Is it like him to do that?’ Lucie asked. Perhaps she didn’t know Michalis as well as she hoped she did. ‘To not let people know where he’s going and not take calls?’
‘He is a man,’ Nyx said, like it gave all the answers. ‘And he is stupid.’
‘OK, Maria,’ Gavin said gently. ‘Where would you like to get comfy so we can examine you and see when these babies are going to come along?’
‘We need… to wait for the doctor,’ Maria breathed, seeming to be struggling with pain again.
‘Well, lucky for you, I’m a doctor,’ Gavin stated, looking only at his patient. ‘I’ve got…’
He stopped talking as his eyes went away from the soon-to-be-mother and it was then Lucie noticed five tortoises in single file, strutting along the edge of the pool and demanding the space to walk unheeded into the grounds. She shook her head like it might be a mirage.
Gavin seemed to refocus. ‘I’ve got a golden doctorate from the world renowned… Tur-tell Institute in the UK.’
‘You are a real doctor?’ Maria asked again, her face scrunching up and teeth biting together.
‘Is that another pain?’ Gavin asked, shooting a look that Lucie caught immediately.
‘Ne! Damocles!’ Maria screeched in a tone that could have called dolphins home.
‘How long was it between the pains?’ Gavin whispered to Lucie.
She shook her watch like she really wanted it to be faulty due to a dunk in sea water earlier in the week. But it clearly wasn’t. ‘Barely two minutes.’
‘OK,’ Gavin said, sounding unnaturally calm. ‘Once this one is over we need to examine her and get her settled somewhere, quickly.’
‘I will call Michalis again,’ Nyx said, reaching into her apron for her phone.
Fifty-Seven
Andino Butcher’s, Sortilas
What was it with this village? Every time Michalis left it something happened. His father had told him about the emergency the second he got through the door of the butcher’s and, after
his initial reaction – which was to head straight to his surgery at Villa Psomi – his next thought was… a baby. Babies plural. Hadn’t he just been talking about the loss of one little life that had been in his hands? It was possibly the worst timing ever.
‘What are you doing?’ Dimitri wanted to know.
Michalis looked down at his hands as he loitered in the hallway. His fingers were wound around a set of worry beads he seemed to have taken down from the coat hooks without realising it. His mother’s worry beads. Made from olive wood, they had never been far from Lola’s hands. She had used them for prayer and contemplation right up until the end. And he wished she was here for guidance right now.
‘Michalis?’ Dimitri said, coming closer. ‘Is there something wrong? Did you not hear what I said? About Maria and the babies?’
Michalis nodded. ‘I… know. I heard what you said but… it might be better if we go to get a doctor from Acharavi.’
‘The road is still blocked for cars bigger than the smallest models,’ Dimitri reminded him.
‘I could go… on your moped. Bring someone to the villa.’
‘Michalis,’ Dimitri said seriously. ‘You are the doctor in Sortilas. You are right here. Right now.’
He wet his lips, trying to stop the panic from rising up and turning into beads of sweat on his forehead. ‘I know, but—’
‘Listen,’ Dimitri said, his tone a little stern. ‘This is not the time for a crisis of confidence. You went to school with Maria and Damocles. They are depending on you.’
People depending on him. Him letting people down. But then there was Anastasia, practically pardoning him for his role in what had happened in Thessaloniki. You did all you could. He wasn’t doing all he could running olive wood spheres over his fingers.
‘OK,’ Michalis said, forcing himself to take a deep breath.