The village men have been queuing up to buy dresses for their good lady wives and their mothers. The village women are daily receiving presents from their men folk without the excuse of a ‘name day’ in sight. As they rushed to rip the brown wrapping paper from the unexpected gifts, many of the village ladies felt their hearts sink.
In addition to being shapeless, drab and unflattering, the old fashioned dresses are made from a thick heavy material guaranteed to make the flesh boil and sweat in the Greek summer heat. Yet what Greek woman could deign to insult her godlike male off-spring by voicing her objections to wearing his thoughtful gift with pride? What good Greek wife could show her ingratitude to such a thoughtful husband, even as she covets the latest fashions from Athens? The village ladies dutifully don the dresses which add ten years to their appearance, huddling in small groups to spit and curse at how useless their men folk are.
“Oh, take a look at that hideous dress,” Deirdre instructed Quentin as they both clapped eyes on this out of place item. Bald Yannis, who was sitting at his cash register polishing a chainsaw overheard and understood her, and decided then and there to overcharge her if she made any purchases.
“Do you sell postcards?” Deirdre asked him. Bald Yannis decided to amuse himself and pretend to speak only a few words of English. “Postcards,” Deirdre enunciated loudly as Bald Yannis held up the shop cat and said “fat cat not for sale.” “Not post cat, post cards” Quentin joined in. “Good cat” replied Bald Yannis holding the cat aloft “very tasty.”
“Thank you very much, I think we’ll leave it for today,” Deirdre said, heading towards the door.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with that hideous dress?” Bald Yannis asked in perfect English, choking on his own laugher.
“That man is stark raving mad,” Deirdre declared when they were safely outside. “And did you notice that he had a lace strap sticking out of the top of his tee shirt? It was very obvious against his hairy chest.”
“I think that’s enough excitement for now.” Quentin said, suggesting they retire to their room above the taverna for a siesta.
Chapter 20
Slick Socrates Insults Stavroula
Feeling most refreshed after their siesta Quentin and Deirdre decided to pop back to Stavroula’s taverna for a late afternoon coffee. Delighted to see the returning customers, Stavroula ushered them to her best table. A rather dapper man in a bow tie and braces was sharing a table with Gorgeous Yiorgos. Stavroula was most eager to introduce the Americans to her live-in-lover lawyer Socrates. However as neither Socrates nor Stavroula could speak more than a handful of words of English the conversation soon dried up.
Socrates told Stavroula he had heard on the village gossip vine that old Mr Antonopoulos up in the mountain village of Katsika, named for a goat, is missing one of his prize goats. “If someone has stolen or killed that goat then Mr Antonopoulos plans to sue them,” said Socrates.
“That old malaka should put up proper fences,” opined Stavroula, before suddenly catching on this could be the elusive goat possibly in the clutches of her rival Yiota’s kitchen.
“Why don’t you call in to Yiota’s taverna tonight,” she suggested to Socrates “and see if there’s anything fishy going on.” She had yet to tell Socrates mail order Masha and that old fool Vasilis were expected for dinner and would rather keep Socrates well out of the way of the other woman. There was no need to put temptation in the way of his roving eye.
“I hear Adonis is hoping to sell a house to those Americans,” Socrates said.
“But they are only ‘ere a few days while their car is repaired” Stavroula told him. “As if that will stop Adonis and his machinations” Socrates mused “they’ll be here much longer than that if Adonis gets his way. He’s desperate to get some property sold before the taxes fall due and we all know what suckers foreigners can be when Adonis turns on the charm.”
“By the way my love bunny, I have a gift for you,” Socrates suddenly remembered, fishing out a brown paper bag and presenting it to Stavroula.
“You spoil me,” Stavroula said, ripping open the bag to discover with horror one of the hideous old lady dresses sold by Bald Yannis at the hardware shop. “Why did you buy me this grotesque skinny woman’s dress?” Stavroula cried in disgust.
Stavroula couldn’t be bothered to go all the way to the kitchen to get a pot to hit Socrates round the head with so she settled for bashing him with her shoe, to the great amusement of Quentin and Deirdre. “Don’t expect me to wear that foul sweat making old rag,” screamed Stavroula, “it’s only fit for lining the chicken coop with.”
Socrates remembered the dire fate of Kostas in the chicken coop and apologised profusely for insulting his beloved, promising to buy her something special from the jewellery shop instead.
Chapter 21
The Papas Plays Footsie
Stavroula blushed a bright shade of red as the local Pappas entered the taverna carrying a briefcase. She was embarrassed he may have seen her bashing Socrates about the head as she always tried to make a good impression around the local priest. If the Pappas knew Socrates had been calling at his house to visit his wife Petula he would have encouraged Stavroula to hit him some more.
Taking a seat the Pappas ordered a large whiskey. He was feeling out of sorts, overheated and had money worries. His long black clerical dress and chimney pot hat were too hot for this weather and it wasn’t even summer yet. Some idiot malaka had put a condom in the church collection box and his wife Petula was demanding driving lessons. He nodded politely at Quentin and Deirdre, thinking to himself what a handsome woman the American lady was.
He cheered up at the thought perhaps he could persuade Stavroula to purchase some of the discounted fake silver cutlery he had in his briefcase. With a flourish the Pappas displayed his silverware. This greatly amused Quentin and Deirdre who never expected a man of the church to be flogging cutlery from a briefcase.
Stavroula felt obliged to support the Pappas and bargained him down from his original price for six fake silver teaspoons. Meanwhile Gorgeous Yiorgos made a hasty exit from the taverna, overcome with guilt that he had been meeting the Pappas’s wife Petula while the Pappas had been conducting his services. He hoped that the lovely Thea didn’t get word of his dalliance with Petula and get the wrong idea before he had a chance to explain about the driving lessons.
Slick Socrates had also been calling on Petula, not to woo her but because he felt sorry for her. He was painfully aware though that if Stavroula ever found out his life wouldn’t be worth living.
Noticing the American woman kept glancing at his briefcase the Pappas took a seat next to her, all the better to impress her with his fake wares. At first Deirdre thought nothing of it as the Pappas’ foot brushed up against her leg. Edging her leg away discreetly she recoiled in horror when his persistent foot followed. Grabbing Quentin by the arm she made a quick exit, exclaiming “I do believe that horrible little priest with the briefcase was trying to touch me up with his foot from underneath his dress.”
Chapter 22
How Tasos Lost his Teeth
As Quentin and Deirdre headed back to their room above the taverna they crossed paths with a rather miserable looking Toothless Tasos. He was still feeling lovelorn from the previous night and was really regretting he had waited for all his new teeth before attempting to court the goddess Thea.
Toothless Tasos arrived at his fishing cottage which boasted few home improvements since he first inherited it many years ago. A large cooking pot was strategically placed to catch any drips from the leaking roof. His few pathetic attempts at home decoration were limited to several wall mounted stuffed fish noses he had decapitated from his best swordfish catches. They left a lingering aroma of dead fish in the air.
A solitary deckchair was sited beneath the large wall-mounted television in the living room, but Tasos’ electrical knowledge was so abysmal he had never been able to get a clear picture. Still he spent many an hour in his
deckchair watching Greek soap operas. His secret addiction was watching re-runs of ‘Seven Deadly Mothers-in-Law’.
Toothless Tasos threw himself into the deckchair to contemplate life. He often dwelled on the night he had lost his teeth, blaming the encounter with a belligerent seal for sealing his fate. He had been drifting at sea after pulling in his nets in an effort to avoid the nagging company of Stavroula. He cursed the stupidity that prevented him returning to shore with his catch rather than falling asleep in the boat.
Tasos had been dead to the world when a sharp jolt shook his boat, waking him from his deep sleep in time to see an enormous seal stealing the fish he had caught. Imagining Stavroula’s wrath if he returned home with no fish to sell he engaged in a ridiculous fist fight with the seal and came off worse. The seal knocked him hard into the rudder, loosening his teeth which fell out with a sickening crunch. Before he had a chance to retrieve them the seal swallowed them.
The cost of his move to Australia which soon followed left him short of the necessary funds for the dental work needed. He remained toothless and over time he got used to eating pureed souvlaki and gyros. It was only when he returned to Astakos he was able to start saving up for false teeth as he no longer had to finance Stavroula’s grasping ways.
Tasos had just had the last new tooth fitted when he heard the news that once again Thea was a widow. He thought his happiness was complete as he attended the funeral. Not only was he rid of Stavroula, but the lovely Thea was now a free woman. It was however a completely inappropriate moment to display his new treasures in a beaming smile directed at Thea over the coffin of her dead husband and he understood his faux pas immediately.
He decided to give it another two weeks before approaching the widow. Sadly it appeared it was now too late and he kicked himself for smiling at the funeral. Ironically it was the first time he had smiled in years.
Chapter 23
Goat on the Menu
“Those church bells don’t half make a terrible din,” complained Deirdre, looking for something suitable to wear for the goat feast ahead.
“I can’t persuade you to attend a quick service then?” Quentin said with a twinkle in his eye as the fresh sea air of Astakos was agreeing with him very nicely. “Goodness no I’ve had quite enough of that ghastly little Pappas and his wandering foot for one day,” Deirdre replied.
Over at the church the Pappas was delighted to discover someone had left a fish in the collection box. He would take the fish home for Petula to cook. It was a definite improvement over the condom someone had left earlier. He had angered the village women by giving it to the children to play with as he mistakenly thought it was a balloon.
The evening service had failed to attract anyone yet again. The Pappas hadn’t had a good turn out since the funeral for Thea’s third husband. He secretly hoped there would be another coffin in pride of place very soon so he could welcome a full congregation. The Pappas decided to take a quick swig of Holy wine and then close up early. As he reached for the bottle he realised it was almost empty. Throwing the fish in his briefcase the Pappas headed to Yiota’s taverna to purchase another bottle to replenish the church stock of wine.
Quentin and Deirdre were already seated in the taverna waiting for Adonis to join them when the Pappas entered. Noticing he only stopped long enough to buy a bottle of wine Deirdre voiced her suspicions aloud that perhaps the Pappas had a drinking problem. “Oh look Quentin that strange priest has got a fish in his briefcase,” she said, as the Pappas opened his bag to accommodate the bottle. “I think we should avoid his church unless it is of special historical interest.”
The Pappas cursed under his breath as he passed Adonis entering as he was leaving. The two men were not friends as Adonis thought the Pappas treated his wife Petula, who just happened to be Adonis’ cousin, badly, always refusing to pay for her driving lessons. He further suspected the Pappas of being a bit free with his fists when in his cups, which was often.
Adonis was delighted to see his new American friends and joined them saying “Yiota telephoned to say she ‘as done the tasty things to the goat so I ‘opes yous are very ‘ungry my friends.”
“Well it certainly sounds better than Stavroula’s snails,” Quentin quipped.
Yiota had spent all morning scrubbing the tyre marks off the goat then rubbing it with copious amounts of oregano and lemon before handing it over to Takis to put on the spit. It was cooked to perfection and Yiota emerged from the kitchen carrying huge platters of the succulent meat to every table.
The tempting prospect of spit cooked goat had attracted many customers to the taverna. Gorgeous Yiorgos was arguing loudly about fishing methods with Fat Christos and another fisherman known as Prosperous Pedros. Gorgeous Yiorgos rubbed his hands with glee at the sight of the succulent goat, but Prosperous Pedros declined his plate, announcing he was a vegetarian. “Oh not this nonsense again,” said Yiota, “you know as well as I do Pedro that goat is a vegetable.”
Chapter 24
Of Course Goat is a Vegetable
Prosperous Pedros was a ‘sometime’ vegetarian. His rejection of meat was a recent thing that was a constant source of amusement throughout the village. He was a fine looking man who took himself seriously and favoured the simple life over worldly possessions. Noticing the beginnings of a gut that had the potential to grow into the style of the ten-month pregnant belly sported by many of the village men of a certain age, Pedros was determined to give up anything that could potentially turn him fat.
Most of the village men of a certain age carried way too much blubber for their health. Their wobbling overhanging bellies were a ghastly sight in the summer when they stripped off their shirts. Prosperous Pedros noticed things had got much worse since there was so much publicity about the health benefits of the Mediterranean Greek diet. It seemed the men had decided to pick all their favourite Greek dishes with no thought to their calorific or fat content and eat extra portions of everything, washing it all down with the line “this is the healthiest diet in the world, even the BBC says so.”
Pedros realised it was true the Greek diet of olives, olive oil and fresh vegetables was indeed very healthy, but the healthy label could not really be applied to massive portions of souvlaki, gyros and cheese pies. He would rather give up meat and turn vegetarian than go on a diet or exercise.
Vegetarianism was an alien concept in the kitchens of Astakos. While it is true the village diet was rich in fresh fish, fruit and vegetables the villagers rejected the notion of vegetarianism as not normal. If anyone ordered a meatless meal they were encouraged to have some meat on it while being assured the dish would still be vegetarian.
As Prosperous Pedros was partial to chicken he allowed the villagers, after much heated debate, to persuade him that chicken was technically a vegetable. When he was in the mood for lamb one night Yiota managed to persuade his impressionably warped mind that lamb was also a vegetable. No one could persuade him though that souvlaki was a vegetable as he often watched Fat Christos devour six portions of the skewered meat and then loosen, with greasy fingers, the buttons that strained against his stomach.
“Of course goat is a vegetable,” Yiota told Prosperous Pedros “it’s from the same family as lamb. Any self respecting vegetarian would be happy to eat goat and this one is particularly tasty.”
Prosperous Pedros pondered the dilemma he faced. The goat looked very tempting but he wasn’t convinced it was really a vegetable and he had been looking forward to a nice plate of wild green horta with a drizzle of fresh lemon instead.
Yiota drew the American pair into the ensuing debate, asking them to confirm that in America a goat was a vegetable. “Goat isn’t a vegetable,” declared Deirdre with confidence, “vegetables grow in the ground and need watering, they don’t gambol around on hillsides looking cute.”
Yiota wasn’t convinced by this argument; pointing out if it was true then chickens would not be vegetables. “Well they aren’t,” said Quentin to the amusement of
the whole taverna that had collectively convinced themselves chickens were most definitely vegetables.
Prosperous Pedros’ dilemma was resolved by Yiota who told him to eat the goat quickly as it was evidence of road kill which must be hidden before the lawyer Socrates arrived. She had just had a phone call to say Socrates was on his way to snoop around on the instructions of Stavroula and find out if the goat was the missing one belonging to Mr Antonopoulos from the mountain village of Katsika.
Pedros agreed they would argue about the origins of goat as meat or vegetable another time and tucked into his plateful of goat with obvious relish.
By the time Socrates made his entrance every table in the taverna had only empty plates and all the evidence had been eaten. “You were very lucky to get away with goat murder my good friend K-Went-In,” said Adonis, absolving himself of all responsibility for driving away with the road kill. “Socrates could have made a bigly fortune suing you.”
Realising he’d had a lucky escape Quentin ordered another jug of wine to be sent over to Prosperous Pedros as a thank you for disposing of the last bit of goatly evidence.
Chapter 25
Socrates is Sent Out Snooping
It seemed to Socrates that Stavroula was in almost indecent haste to send him away from the taverna and out on his snooping over the possibility of abducted goat mission. She didn’t even serve him up a plate of snail stew which was one of his favourites, so desperate was she to remove him from the premises before mail order Masha and that old fool Vasilis turned up. Usually Stavroula disapproved vocally of Socrates frequenting the rival taverna, even though he and Takis were great friends of old.
Goat In The Meze: A farcical look at Greek life (The Greek Meze Series Book 1) Page 4