Staying Out for the Summer

by Mandy Baggot

  Lucie’s dance over, it was time for the main event. Sitting at a plastic table with Meg, Gavin and Simon, she watched as Michalis was helped into a wooden stretcher-cum-popemobile contraption that would definitely not have held up as being structurally sound under UK rules.

  ‘Christ,’ Gavin remarked. ‘I can’t look. He’s a tall guy and he’s wearing literally a whole olive tree on his body, not to mention enough feathers to coat one of Cher’s headdresses. This is all going to end very badly.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ Lucie begged, looking through her fingers at the scene now. ‘Not now we’ve just committed to keeping in touch when we go home.’

  ‘What?!’ Gavin exclaimed. ‘Really?!’

  Lucie nodded, her gaze going to Meg next to her. ‘A very brilliant friend, as well as a lovely family member told me that life shouldn’t wait any more. That sometimes you need to listen to your heart.’

  Meg put her hand over Lucie’s. ‘I am so so happy for you, my Lucie-Lou.’

  ‘I’m happy for you too, Lucie,’ Simon told her. ‘And I want to thank you.’

  ‘You do?’ Lucie said, shifting in her chair to face him and Gavin.

  ‘Yes,’ Simon said, sounding a little nervous. ‘Because, back at the hospital, if you hadn’t told me how Gavin felt about me then I think I would have carried on pushing my own feelings down.’ He reached for his can of Vergina beer and took a quick swig. ‘Because, I know that I told you… I’m not gay… and truthfully now, I don’t know exactly what I am, or even if I need to define how I feel but… I should have been a bit more honest and… I shouldn’t have asked for your phone number.’ He gave a nervous smile. ‘Not that you’re not the greatest fun but… I really don’t fancy you.’ He shook his head. ‘God, that sounded awful.’

  ‘It really did,’ Gavin agreed.

  ‘Sshh, let me say this,’ Simon begged.

  Lucie watched as he turned in his seat and faced Gavin and her heart gave a little leap in anticipation.

  ‘I’m not going to say I know the roadmap for where I’m going at the moment,’ Simon started. ‘But I do know that jumping on a plane and flying to Corfu was the best decision I’ve made in a very long time.’

  Lucie looked at Gavin and she could see that her best friend was starting to tear up. Hold it together, Gavin. Don’t force out an inappropriate innuendo.

  ‘I have had the best time here on this island,’ Simon carried on. ‘And that’s because of you.’ With shaking fingers he reached for Gavin’s hand. ‘And… whatever journey I take next, I know already that I want you to be a part of it.’

  Lucie desperately wanted to squeal and jump across the table to hug them both, but the cuteness of the scene in front of her made her stop and simply watch as Simon leaned in towards Gavin and planted the softest of kisses on his lips.

  Now Lucie moved, jumping up, dress knocking the empty plastic chair next to her over onto the floor, and clapping excitedly. She watched Gavin’s face glowing with happiness and she felt so ecstatic for both of them.

  ‘And now I will speak in the English!’ Melina’s voice boomed over the sound system. ‘It is time to welcome our village saviour! Last year, when the world imploded…’

  A series of firecrackers suddenly fizzed into life and dramatic drumming commenced from the band of school children seated next to the stage – all wearing traditional Greek costume.

  ‘A hero was born!’ Melina shrieked and oddly everyone began clapping.

  It was at this point that Michalis’s bizarre transport – tied to chunky bamboo canes – was hoisted up onto the shoulders of six – hopefully strong enough – village men. Once balance had been achieved, they began a slow and sedate walk into the centre of the square and the performance area as balletic dancers swirled around, half their faces painted a ghastly green with one dark eye, the other half painted bright yellow with that eye decorated like a daisy.

  ‘A man… who saved us from the virus!’ Melina continued. ‘A Greek god… who foresaw what was coming… and gave us the tools to fight it off!’

  The whole village began to cheer, stamp their feet on the ground or bang tables with their hands.

  ‘Goodness,’ Meg exclaimed. ‘What exactly did Michalis do?’

  ‘I don’t actually know,’ Lucie admitted. ‘Whenever I ask him he keeps brushing it off like whatever he did do was nothing. But look at this festival, this new festival, all for him.’

  Her boyfriend. Her more-than-a-holidate. Encased in a wooden cage, dressed like a bad-ass bird who once mated with a tortoise. It was almost too much.

  ‘Doctor Michalis Andino!’ Melina announced. ‘Tonight… and on this day for every year ever after… we will honour you with this festival!’

  There were more cheers.

  ‘And we will never forget how you saved Sortilas! And made it the ultimate health destination… as featured in Travel Europe magazine… one of our sponsors.’

  Gavin burst out laughing. ‘She’s advertising! In the middle of a festival. This is class!’

  ‘Light the flames!’ Melina ordered. ‘And may they burn throughout the night as a symbol of our resilience! And a sign of our appreciation for our new and first village saint. Step towards your throne to be ordained… Saint Doctor Michalis Andino.’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Gavin exclaimed, getting to his feet.

  ‘Almost, I think,’ Meg replied, dabbing her forehead with a serviette.

  ‘Even Sir Sean Connery never got made a saint, God love him,’ Gavin said.

  ‘I’m not sure you can make someone a saint,’ Lucie mused as she watched Michalis’s cage being lowered precariously to the ground and then him emerge to cheers and back-slapping from the crowd around him. ‘Don’t you have to die first?’

  ‘Well,’ Gavin said, eyes still on the action. ‘I was concerned when they mentioned flaming torches. I mean, there’s quite a lot of wood around here.’

  ‘And actually, when I visited Corfu the first time, you weren’t allowed fires of any kind until November. Fires here can be deadly,’ Meg added.

  Lucie was still feeling guilty about their very first barbecue…

  ‘Oh! Phew!’ Gavin said, hand to his chest. ‘Solar-powered fake flaming torches. We’re all saved.’

  Sixty-Six

  ‘Please, remove my head! I cannot stand it any longer!’

  Michalis bent forward in front of his sister, who was stationed behind the stall outside the butcher’s shop as a continuation to their enterprise for this night only.

  ‘Do you need to take it off now to make room for your halo, Saint Michalis?’ Nyx asked with a snort. She put her hands around the headdress and wrenched hard.

  ‘Ow!’ Michalis said, standing up straight and rubbing the back of his neck as Nyx plonked the headdress on the end of her stall.

  ‘I will put it here. It will discourage the flies and maybe scare the children so they do not keep picking up my tortoise pies.’

  ‘Where is Papa?’ Michalis asked.

  ‘Ugh,’ Nyx sighed. ‘He is inside the shop with Amalia. She has persuaded him to put some of his paintings on the wall. He has taken down my poster of the inner workings of a cow and replaced it with a seascape of Apraos.’

  ‘Nyx,’ Michalis said. ‘Please give Amalia a chance. Papa likes her.’

  ‘I am giving her a chance,’ she answered bullishly. ‘I have not threatened her with any of my boning knives. What more do you want?’

  ‘Would it be possible to buy some pork chops?’

  The question came from the Greek man Michalis remembered buying rabbit, steak mince and the cow’s tongue…

  ‘You again?’ Nyx greeted. ‘What do you want pork chops for tonight? We are in the middle of a festival!’

  ‘Nyx,’ Michalis said warningly. ‘How many chops would you like, sir?’

  ‘I think two,’ the man answered.

  ‘No problem,’ Michalis said. ‘Let me take you into the shop and my father will be able to help you.’ He led th
e way.

  Nyx shook her head then simultaneously slapped the hand of a child about to pick up one of her tortoise pies.

  ‘Nyx,’ Lucie greeted. ‘We’ll have some lamb souvlakia and some tortoise pies.’

  ‘I’m so hungry and it smells so wonderful,’ Meg added.

  ‘I will do you some big bags,’ Nyx said with a smile. ‘You can take some for Gavin and Simon. They are so cute together.’

  ‘They are, aren’t they?’ Lucie answered with a contented sigh.

  ‘Much cuter than you and my brother, the saint that looks like roadkill. Ha! I pull off his head!’ Nyx indicated the feathered mohawk on her stall. ‘But good hair style. I might try this.’

  ‘Where is Michalis?’ Lucie asked. She hadn’t seen much of him after the ceremony. The whole village seemed to want to spend time in the company of their new honorary saint.

  ‘He is taking an annoying customer just inside to the shop,’ Nyx informed, putting sticks of slick and delicious-looking skewered lamb into insulated bags.

  ‘Why annoying?’ Lucie asked.

  ‘Oh, he comes in and wants this and wants that and does not listen to my advice. Tonight he wants pork chops.’

  ‘I love pork chops,’ Meg replied. ‘I remember one meal I ate here in Corfu.’ She sighed. ‘It was home-cooked by someone special. I’d told him how much I liked them – my mum used to make them with a honey and mustard glaze and—’

  ‘Mashed potatoes… with all the butter.’

  A male voice had broken into the conversation and suddenly her aunt was quivering next to her.

  ‘I… don’t believe it,’ Meg whispered, her voice breaking.

  A man was standing just outside the doorway of the butcher’s shop, a plastic bag in his hand staring straight at Meg. ‘Are my eyes broken?’ he asked.

  ‘This is him!’ Nyx exclaimed. ‘The one who complains. Is there something wrong with our pork chops now?’

  Lucie looked back to Meg, not understanding at all what was going on. ‘Meg, are you OK? Perhaps you should eat something? Or I’ll get you some water.’

  ‘Is it really you?’ the man asked, almost tiptoeing closer to them like he was afraid to approach too swiftly.

  ‘Is it really you?’ Meg said, tears bouncing out of her eyes and down her cheeks.

  ‘Meggie,’ the man breathed, finally right there.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Meg whispered. ‘You look… just the same.’

  ‘You look… even more beautiful than the picture I carry in my head,’ the man replied.

  And then the pieces started to fall into place for Lucie. There was only one person this could be…

  ‘Oh, Petros… it’s so wonderful to see you,’ Meg said, beaming as she cried.

  Sixty-Seven

  The Andino apartment, Sortilas

  ‘Melina wanted fireworks,’ Michalis said. ‘Like this new festival was more important than anything and we could suddenly forget that we live on an island that in the height of summer is almost as dry as a desert.’

  Lucie laughed. They were sitting on the balcony of the Andino family apartment, alone at last, looking out over the festival still continuing in the square below them. She could see Gavin and Simon in the middle of the dancing, being taught traditional moves by the locals as the band played from the stage. They were both a little red-faced with the frenetic pace Mary and Ariana were setting, leading dancers holding handkerchiefs in a zig-zag formation around a little girl dressed as an effigy of a virus. Earlier there had been an interpretive dance with a troupe of schoolchildren in tortoise costumes battling against another group dressed as dark evil organisms…

  And then there was Meg. Sitting at a table on the terrace of the taverna, eyes only for her dining companion, Petros, looking like all the years were simply rolling back. There was a girlish expression on her aunt’s face that Lucie had never seen before and it was starting to give her an insight into who Meg had been before she took on the responsibility of her sister’s child.

  ‘The solar-powered flickering flames were inspired,’ Lucie answered him.

  ‘Another drink?’ Michalis asked, lifting the bottle up.

  ‘This is mastika, isn’t it? Like the bottle we found in Villa Psomi.’

  He nodded. ‘But, this one, it is a little different.’

  Lucie sat forward in her seat, layers of lace coming with her… but at least she had been able to remove the bonnet. ‘Different, how?’

  Michalis poured them both another small measure of the cloudy liquid then sat back in his chair, picking up his glass and surveying it. ‘It is usually clear.’

  ‘And this one isn’t because…’

  ‘You asked me what I did for the village last year. To try to keep them safe,’ he began.

  ‘And you keep not answering me. As if you’re the mastermind behind a vaccine that is one hundred per cent effective and the rest of the world knows nothing about it.’

  He smiled. ‘I wish for that.’

  ‘Me too,’ Lucie agreed. ‘But if it’s not that then…’

  ‘Take a drink,’ he encouraged.

  Lucie looked at him with suspicion. ‘You are being very mysterious, Dr Andino. Is this part of your role play for the flying tortoise king you’re dressed as?’

  ‘No,’ he answered. ‘This is me about to tell you the only secret I have left to share.’ He took a breath. ‘Once you know this, you will know more about me than anyone else.’ He smiled. ‘Take another drink.’

  Lucie picked up her glass and raised it to her lips. ‘This is a bit like the wine tasting now. Do you want me to smell it?’

  ‘If you like,’ he answered. ‘Tell me what you smell. Then, tell me what you taste.’

  Lucie put her nose over the glass. ‘It smells like trees, like the one we tried at the villa. Trees and earth.’ She took a sip. ‘And there’s a little lemony aftertaste that’s really quite nice.’

  He smiled. ‘There is, is there not?’

  ‘Stop dragging this out! Tell me what this has to do with Sortilas having some gold health status and a tortoise to prove it!’

  ‘If I tell you,’ Michalis started, reaching across the table for her hand. ‘You have to promise me you will never tell anyone else.’

  ‘Anyone? Because sometimes, when I’ve had too much wine, Gavin deliberately leads me down a dark path to confessing anything I’ve previously held back from him.’

  ‘You cannot tell anyone,’ Michalis told her.

  ‘OK,’ Lucie breathed. ‘I get it.’ She swallowed. ‘I promise.’

  He picked up the bottle and caressed the glass as if he was stroking a much-loved pet. ‘This… was all it was.’

  Lucie waited a beat for him to carry on and actually do some explaining but when nothing else was forthcoming she jumped in. ‘What was all it was?’ She frowned.

  ‘This drink,’ he said with a smile. ‘It is mastika, just as the villagers drink it, with a few small additions.’

  ‘You… gave them all alcohol?’ Lucie asked, still not fully getting it.

  He sighed. ‘You have seen how old some of Sortilas is. How old Ariana and Mary from Vouni are. This virus was attacking the elderly and the vulnerable more than anyone else and there was nothing I could do about that. Nothing other than reminding them to wash their hands, to sanitise, to wear a mask and to keep distance.’ He took a large swig of his drink. ‘But the other element of life the Coronavirus attacked… was in here.’ He put his fingers to his temples. ‘That fear, the mentality that the life they know was not accessible anymore. They had no hope. And I decided I could do something about that.’

  ‘Go on,’ Lucie urged.

  ‘I made this vintage,’ he informed. ‘Bottles and bottles of it. Enough for the whole village to have a small shot of it every day over the last twelve months. It contains Vitamin D, basil, lemon, but mainly alcohol.’ He drew in a breath. ‘Some might say it was a placebo. But, it is proven that those ingredients can help the body fight off a virus
and boost the immune system. The fact that no one in Sortilas contracted Covid-19 means that something worked and if Melina wants to believe it was my elixir, then who am I to make argument?’

  ‘Dr Andino,’ Lucie gasped. ‘You are a shaman! I knew it!’ She stood up. ‘I am in love with a witch doctor!’

  She stopped talking as she realised exactly what she had said. Her cheeks reddening, she was caught between sitting back down or perhaps running from the balcony and finding somewhere to hide.

  ‘I—’

  ‘Do not take it back,’ Michalis begged her. He pulled her forward and onto his lap, the heavy skirts almost burying them both.

  ‘Is it too soon?’ Lucie asked, gazing up at him and enjoying sitting against his taut leather-clad body.

  ‘I do not know what we are waiting for,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I have known for some time now that I am in love with you.’

  ‘You have?’ Lucie said, swallowing as her heart took flight.

  ‘Yes,’ Michalis told her. ‘I just apparently needed to be made a saint before I declared this to you.’ He clasped her hand then cleared his throat. ‘I love you, Lucie. And… I know you.’

  It felt like her heart was filling with stardust-coated helium and she could float up onto a cloud. He’d remembered what she’d told him and how much it meant to her.

  ‘I love you,’ she breathed as she moved her lips towards his. ‘And I want to know you. Completely.’

  And then, to the music of the festival band, the chirruping of the crickets and the hubbub of this special Greek village, they held each other tight, knowing that this was a new beginning for them both. A beginning that would hopefully lead to many many tomorrows together.

  Epilogue

  NHS East Hampshire, UK