A Stranger in the Village

by Sara Alexi

  ‘In the corner shop’ – he looks across to the corner shop, keenly aware of her gaze – ‘that’s Marina, was married, but has been widowed for many years, one son and a grandson. The baptism is this weekend. It was meant to be a while ago but the priest got ill and then the church was double-booked. But one way or another it has worked out better. So there’s a baptism the day after tomorrow and a wedding the day after that.’

  ‘Oh yes – er, what was her … um, Ellie. From the hotel, and the barman,’ says Miltos, happy to be able to add another slim connection to this place, this new home. ‘They were getting married. I met them.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Loukas,’ says Stella. ‘If you are still here I guess you’ll get to know everyone!’ And, as abruptly as she sat, Stella now stands as someone calls her name from inside.

  Chapter 33

  Miltos eats slowly, savouring the food in the way that only a really hungry man can, and watches with interest the activity in the kafenio, outside the corner shop and by the kiosk on the square. He recognises faces from the last time he was here and the familiarity feels good. The lemon sauce is divine and the food is better than at Stella’s hotel, and he makes a mental note to eat here often. Stella comes out with another beer without him having to ask and returns inside.

  ‘Hello.’ The greeting, in English, makes him start. The speaker’s golden hair is striking, and he remembers her from the corner shop. ‘I thought you had gone,’ she says in Greek as she draws closer.

  Not sure which language to use, Miltos finds he does not answer at all.

  ‘Is Stella around?’ she says, maintaining her Greek. She sounds fluent, and her accent is good, but she is obviously not Greek.

  ‘Inside,’ he says finally.

  ‘Oh, you speak English.’ Her eyebrows lift and she smiles.

  ‘I spent some time there, and in America.’

  She stops walking and stands by the tree, looking into the eatery.

  ‘Where?’ The question is in English but the directness of her delivery and the inflection are all Greek. She must have been around Greeks for a while to pick up the mannerisms. Maybe she lives here.

  ‘Pandou,’ he starts in Greek. ‘London, Leeds, Birmingham, Glasgow, Bradford …’

  ‘Bradford?’ the woman interrupts. ‘I was born there.’ Her attention is no longer on the eatery.

  Her hair is a mane, thick and slightly curly, and Miltos imagines she spends hours trying to tame it. Her dress is long and clings to her figure in places, but without seeming obvious or cheap. It is what his aunt would have called classic. He takes her all in with a quick, well-practised glance. Her toenails are not polished, but they are shaped and trimmed, which delights him: he likes all those little things women do to themselves. She has already slipped one of her flip-flops off and the toes of her bare foot rest on those of the other. Her attitude could pass for Greek but there is something about her that could only be English.

  ‘Nice town,’ he adds non-committally. ‘Er, you want a drink? It’s nicer not to eat alone.’ He looks down at the remains of the chicken.

  ‘Actually, I was looking for Stella.’ She looks inside again.

  ‘There are some fine mills in Bradford,’ he says.

  She gives a little laugh, easy and light. ‘They’re all being converted into flats now, and the town has a new energy. Business capital of the North, they call it. It was a dying town when I left.’ She seems to have lost interest in finding Stella and she takes a step towards his table.

  ‘Please.’ He pulls out a chair and she sits with a grace that he hadn’t expected.

  ‘Juliet.’ She offers her hand and they shake.

  ‘Miltos. I’m pleased to meet you.’

  ‘What were you doing in Bradford? Business?’ Juliet asks.

  ‘I suppose so, in a way.’ He is reluctant to tell her that he was just wandering about, aimlessly, picking up work where he could. Perhaps it will be better to tell her a tale about something that happened to him whilst he was there. Something that will highlight his strengths, paper over his weaknesses, flatter himself in her eyes. He tries to bring something to mind but as he looks out over the village he reminds himself that it is his intention to stay. Whether he likes it or not, the villagers, including Juliet, will get to know him, warts and all. However scary or unnatural it seems, it’s time to do things differently.

  ‘Well, no, actually I was just travelling,’ he says. ‘I was a bit lost, perhaps.’ His words sound awkward to his own ears.

  ‘Oh,’ she says.

  He cannot tell if there is any judgement in her voice, but her gaze is steady and she remains leaning towards him, which suggests she has not judged him negatively.

  ‘I had come back from the Middle East and I couldn’t settle,’ he explains. ‘I had this sort of urge to keep moving, as if I had to find something.’

  ‘And have you found what you are looking for now?’ Juliet asks, a smile playing around her mouth. Her easy manner inspires confidence.

  ‘I’ve travelled much of the world looking for this thing, whatever it is, and I have come to the conclusion that either it does not exist, or it is right here under my nose and it has always been there but I cannot see it.’

  ‘Intriguing.’ She leans back now, her gaze steady. She has kicked off both flip-flops now, and her legs are outstretched, crossed at the ankles. ‘So, what do you think it might be? Tell me more.’

  ‘There is nothing to tell, really. At least, I think there is nothing to tell. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I have a sense of a few of the pieces, and a feeling that if I could get them to join together it all might make sense.’

  ‘Oh,’ says Juliet, and the way she settles deeper into her chair gives the impression that she is waiting for more information.

  Her responses make him feel brave, and he feels inclined to continue. In his stomach is a flutter of excitement, which feels strangely pleasant, and a thrill at doing something he would normally avoid. It feels energising, as if he is taking a risk that could reap him a big reward.

  ‘Well, the only time I have really loved with all my heart was before I went into the army.’ He speaks slowly, lazily, savouring the moment and the changes he is making, ‘Since then, whenever my life feels like it might be on the wrong track I judge where I am against that love. If what I am doing fits with that love then I am doing okay. If the two feel worlds apart or if they seem opposed to one another then I know I am on the wrong track and I need to get out. Does that make sense?’ He does not feel like he has expressed clearly what he is trying to say, but Juliet’s attention is focused on him, and she nods as if she understands.

  ‘Hmm, I like your thinking.’ Juliet’s words encourage him. She brushes her hair from her face.

  ‘So, perhaps love is the first piece. The second is a feeling I get when I go diving, or if I walk in magnificent scenery, or study nature. It is a sort of calm, a peace that tells me all in the world is well, that the world will keep turning despite my existence and not because of it. I need to do nothing to ensure the world’s continuance and it gives me such a sense of peace. So, peace is the next piece.’

  ‘Better and better,’ Juliet replies.

  ‘Oh, yeia sou, Juliet.’ Stella comes out. ‘You want another beer?’ she asks Miltos.

  ‘Juliet, may I buy you a beer?’ he asks.

  ‘Oh yes, why not,’ says Juliet, and Stella trots back inside, returning with two beer bottles but no glasses.

  ‘Do you want a glass?’ Miltos asks, but Stella is inside again, shaking the oil from the potatoes, banging the mesh holder against the deep fat frier.

  ‘No, the bottle’s fine.’ Juliet takes a serviette from the holder and wipes around the top before drinking, as if she is well practised at swigging from a bottle, which surprises him.

  ‘So, any more pieces?’ she asks.

  ‘Did you not want to see Stella about something?’ Miltos reminds her.

  ‘Oh no, it doesn’t matter. I j
ust needed a break from my work, and there was something I wanted to say to her but I can’t remember what it was now. But never mind that – tell me, are there any more pieces?’

  ‘Well, I don’t think there are, apart from something that does not fit.’

  ‘Ooh, what’s that?’

  The way she speaks makes it so easy to reply. There is warmth in her voice, as if she understands, or at least wants to understand.

  ‘As I have said, it doesn’t fit. It is something about excitement, the waiting for a pleasure to come. A waiting that can often be even more enjoyable than the experience itself.’ He sighs and then takes a drink. His plate is empty, knife and fork neatly pushed together. ‘But maybe that is to do with something else.’

  ‘Humm.’ Juliet rubs one foot against the other. ‘So we have love and peace and anticipation. Where was the love you had before the army?’

  ‘Here. Well, there.’ He points down the road. ‘In Saros.’

  ‘Ah, so maybe what you are saying is that you have come back for her, your love, because the anticipation has been long enough, and now you want peace?’

  Chapter 34

  Miltos blinks and swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure, but Juliet’s eyes are on him and he feels exposed. He lifts his bottle to his mouth to create a barrier between them with his arm.

  ‘Are you from Saros then?’

  She continues as if his vulnerability is not visible to her. Maybe it isn’t? There is a tiny part of him that wonders if she is setting a trap to make him reveal his personal details. He blinks. But why would she do that? Is he being paranoid?

  These thoughts are pushed into the background as the urge to tell her more overpowers him. Now he has started along this road he wants to continue; all he is feeling is fascinating. He is astonishing himself with how easy it is to be so open and honest.

  ‘My mama was born in a village around here,’ he begins. ‘Up in the hills. It is very similar to this one.’

  He stops. He has not thought of that village in years. She used to talk about it often, telling him stories at bedtime, but he has never actually been there. She had talked and talked until it became a mythical place in his mind. But it is a real place; it must have actually have been somewhere.

  ‘And you?’ Juliet’s response startles him.

  ‘Yes, er … yes,’ he stammers. ‘I was born in Saros. Moved to Athens when I was five, and came back when I was gone seventeen. Then I was enlisted for my national service at eighteen and I haven’t been back since.’

  ‘Ah, so you are a local.’ Juliet laughs her light and easy laugh again. ‘Is your family still there?’

  ‘No, Mama died when I was almost five, and that was why we moved. My baba needed my yiayia to help with me and she lived in Athens. But then my yiayia died, and he moved back here.’ He is on a roll, there is no stopping him! ‘He was ill, and he didn’t want to die in Athens. It happened soon after, but I was in the army so …’

  He trails off now, reluctant to think about the funeral, and he hopes Juliet will not press for more details: the brief leave he was allowed, the corner plot they put his baba in, the mess of rocks that the gravedigger shovelled on top and the fact that he has never been back to erect a proper headstone. He hangs his head and looks at his feet.

  ‘And your girl? Do we know if she is still in Saros? Married, single, divorced?’ Juliet releases him from the corner plot and leads him to a more pleasant place. He accepts the invitation and looks up again.

  ‘No, she was not from Saros town. She was visiting from a nearby village.’

  ‘This one?’ Juliet asks with great animation.

  ‘You know, I’m not sure.’

  ‘What was her name?’

  ‘Ah.’ He tips his chair back and laughs. ‘Now you’ll think I am making it all up! You see, I don’t know her name.’

  ‘You loved her from afar? How romantic!’ Juliet sits up a little, puts her elbows on the table, interlocks her fingers and rests her chin to look at him.

  ‘Actually, we got pretty close, but, well, names, they did not matter.’

  Juliet lifts her head abruptly.

  ‘What?’ he asks, laughing again, lightly, easily.

  ‘I think I know who she is – or, well, actually, I think she may be one of two people. Oh, how exciting.’

  ‘How can you know who she is?’ He sits more erect.

  ‘It came up in a conversation. Two of my friends here in the village had true loves, but I don’t know if I can tell you. One of them at least keeps it a secret.’

  ‘If it helps’ – he pushes his plate to one side and mirrors Juliet’s position, leaning towards her – ‘I am very good at keeping secrets. After all, who would I tell? And isn’t it half my secret as well?’

  ‘No, it would not be right, but maybe I can tell you about the other one. She had a lover, before she was married, and everyone cannot help but know because …’ Juliet suddenly shuts her mouth and turns red.

  ‘Are you all right?’ He leans towards her, touches her forearm.

  ‘Yes, yes …’ Juliet is stammering. ‘Just, well, no one expects an old lover to come wandering back, do they? I was just wondering how either of them would feel if you really were him.’ She looks across to the corner shop; her cheeks are flaming red and she is blinking rapidly.

  ‘Are they single?’

  ‘Neither of them has a partner.’ Juliet’s pupils have gone very wide and dark and she turns to stare at him like a hare caught in a torch beam.

  ‘Can you tell me the name of the one you think it might be all right to tell about?’

  ‘I could, only now I am not sure.’ She murmurs the name under her breath, but he cannot make it out. ‘But it might not be her, there is another possibility.’ Juliet exhales.

  ‘And you don’t think she would want you to tell me?’

  ‘Well, like I said, I am not sure it would be right to tell you.’ Juliet looks away, towards the kiosk.

  ‘What harm would it do?’

  ‘Well, she has kept it a secret from all the village.’

  ‘Not all the village. You know.’

  ‘True, but – well, I don’t think she would want it to be common knowledge.’

  ‘But the first woman, you could tell me who she is?’

  Juliet looks up to the corner shop. Miltos follows her gaze.

  ‘Is that a clue, the corner shop?’ he asks.

  Juliet looks away sharply and picks up her beer.

  ‘The woman in the blue dress?’ Miltos leans back in his chair again and takes a drink from his bottle.

  ‘Phew, it has calmed down in there. They always seem to want their food at the same time. How are you guys doing? Do we need more beer?’ Stella comes out wiping her hands on her apron, but stops when she sees Juliet’s face. ‘You all right?’ she asks.

  Miltos puts his hand on his chest to try to calm his racing heart. It was one thing telling Juliet his story, revealing his love, but the direction things have gone in is quite another. And now here is Stella. He does not want the whole village to know his business. He should never have started this conversation. If Juliet says one word he will run, just as he has always run when emotions get too high.

  And with this realisation, his dreams of staying in the village evaporate and, already, he finds himself going through a mental list of where he will go to look for work next. Perhaps he should go to England; it has been a while since he was last there. He has distant cousins with a restaurant in Bradford.

  ‘I am fine.’ Juliet responds to Stella’s question and the colour in her cheeks begins to subside. ‘Just chatting.’

  But she says no more, says nothing about his lost lover, does not mention that his family are from around here. His relief is expressed in a big exhalation of breath.

  ‘Does that big sigh mean that you have had enough? I have more chips ready if you want them?’ Stella says.

  ‘No, I am fine, thank you. Just fine.’

  ‘M
iltos is thinking of staying in the village. You know, to live,’ Juliet says.

  ‘Yes, he said. I told him it is as good a place as any.’ Stella picks up his empty plate.

  ‘I think for him it might be the best place of all,’ Juliet replies, looking him in the eye, and then she stands. ‘I’d better get back and finish off the translation I was working on. I only came down here for a break. Now, what was I going to say to you, Stella? Oh yes …!’

  It seems Juliet has many jobs, and one of them is teaching Greek at the hotel. She tells Stella that tomorrow’s lesson is cancelled, unless new clients arrive, as her last student left today. Stella asks her to stop by for coffee and a chat and they both agree that would be nice.

  Miltos takes out his wallet to pay.

  ‘Can I walk you home?’ he asks Juliet quietly.

  ‘I only live round the corner,’ she says.

  ‘I will walk you to the corner then.’ He hands Stella a note and waves away the change she offers. Then he and Juliet take the first slow steps to the corner.

  Chapter 35

  ‘So, Marina, eh?’ he says, looking over at the corner shop. The unshaded bulb inside the Aladdin’s cave of household goods glows orange. Its light seeps out through the window and door, casting long orange rugs across the road to the square to meet the white splashes of harsher light being thrown out of the kafenio.

  ‘But maybe not,’ Juliet says quickly, and she glances at the kiosk.

  ‘And the other person – you feel you really cannot tell me?’

  ‘I must have a word with her first, you understand? Also, I am not so happy that I have told you about Marina.’

  ‘Well, you didn’t, not really. I guessed,’ he answers, and the tension he often holds across his shoulders relaxes a little. If she is discreet one way she will be discreet another. He may not know all he wants but she will not tell all his secrets either. He concludes she is a trustworthy person.