Goat In The Meze: A farcical look at Greek life (The Greek Meze Series Book 1)

by Katerina Nikolas

  The guests complained as they tripped over saucers of ouzo left out on the kitchen floor for the donkey. They could see no signs of the feast Vasilis had promised them and turned their noses up at the big pan of foreign red borscht, with a rather suspect scummy surface, simmering on the stove.

  Masha returned dressed to the nines in a silver sequin evening dress with a plunging neckline and a provocative high-thigh side slit, even though it was still only the middle of the afternoon. She towered over everyone in her matching silver platform shoes and in her haste to get ready had only applied false eyelashes to one eye.

  Masha passed round a platter of olives and some boiled sweets she found in the cupboard saved for donkey treats. She poured everyone generous glasses of vodka and cursed Vasilis for leaving her in this predicament. “The old fool malaka not tell me of party,” she said.

  “That’s because it’s a surprise,” Mrs Kolokotronis told her, passing her a brown paper parcel containing one of the hardware shop’s hideous old lady dresses.

  In no time at all Masha had unwrapped a total of nine hideous old lady dresses and could not muster the grace to feign delight or say thank you. “Why yous all bring me these hideous dresses,” she complained “they are so ugly and shapeless and sweaty?”

  Adding insult to injury Masha knew the hideous dresses hadn’t even come from a proper dress shop but rather from the local hardware store, where the creepy owner Bald Yannis spent all his time thumbing through women’s underwear catalogues.

  The other women began to feel ashamed, secretly agreeing with Masha the dresses were everything she described and no one under the age of eighty should be obliged to wear one. They hated receiving them from their own men folk and they cursed Bald Yannis, the malaka, for putting them in temptations way. It wouldn’t have hurt them to buy Masha something nice and thoughtful like a new nail polish, a box of chocolates or a bunch of flowers.

  They realised Masha hadn’t any warning of a house full of guests and she had done her very best to offer them refreshments on such short notice. She went up in their estimation when they realised she kept a clean house and all the mirrors were gleaming with polish. They reached the conclusion that the old fool Vasilis had treated his young bride abominably by leaving her in this awkward situation.

  “Where has that old fool Vasilis got to?” asked Gorgeous Yiorgos.

  “He go off on donkey at crack of dawn and both of them are probably drunk,” said Masha. “He forget all about my birthday,” she wept with mascara bleeding down her face.

  “But he knew it was your birthday today,” Yiota assured her. “He arranged this surprise party and showed me the big expensive gold brooch shaped like a donkey, with diamonds for eyes, he bought yous.”

  “Po po, the useless drunk give me nothing, nothing,” Masha exclaimed, telling her unwanted guests it was time they took their leave and she hoped that old fool Vasilis fell off the donkey.

  Masha may not have been quite as hard on Vasilis if she knew the truth. He had woken that morning and gone off on the donkey to meet Petros the postman, leaving Masha to enjoy her beauty sleep. He loved his trophy wife and planned to surprise her with the expensive gold brooch in the shape of a donkey and then be on hand to greet the guests he had invited to the party.

  Things took a drastic turn and all his good intentions were foiled when he opened the ominous looking letter Petros the postman delivered. The letter was from the Pappas, informing him Stavroula at the taverna was Vasilis’ secret love child. The letter left him frozen in shock.

  He could not imagine breaking the news to his young wife Masha she was now the step-mother of Stavroula, it just didn’t bear thinking about. Vasilis broke down in hysterical tears as he reached for the ouzo and drank steadily ever since.

  Chapter 46

  A Return to the Lemoni Spiti

  By the time Adonis, Quentin and Deirdre arrived at the party all the other guests had already left. Masha was packing her suitcases in a temper, cursing that malaka old fool Vasilis and his drunken donkey.

  Adonis had collected Quentin and Deirdre as promised to drive them to the party. He had however taken the long scenic route and they ended up at the Lemoni Spiti in the neighbouring village of Rapanaki where Adonis had arranged to meet Achilles the borrowed builder.

  “This goodly ‘ouse K-Went-In,” Achilles declared “lots of room for bigly swimming pool.”

  “I don’t think we’d need a pool as it’s only a few minutes’ walk to the sea,” Deirdre said, before realising that was far too much encouragement for Quentin.

  “Good good,” agreed Achilles “it is bad waste of water to ‘ave swimming pool but lots of yous foreigns like them. I build yous a chicken coop instead and yous ‘ave lots of fresh eggs. ‘Ow many shower curtains you want me to nail up and what colour you want I paint the shutters?” he asked as Deirdre and Quentin started squabbling over blue and green paintwork.

  “Stop,” Deirdre suddenly commanded “why are we even discussing the paintwork Quentin, when we have no intention of buying this ruin of a falling down house?”

  “Let me talk her round,” Quentin whispered to Adonis, who brightened up at the thought of an imminent commission.

  Negotiations came to a halt as they were rudely interrupted by loud screams. Fotini, the old crone next door and the mother of Prosperous Pedros, had taken a nasty tumble from the top of the three-legged wooden olive tree ladder she had been perched on in her efforts to eavesdrop.

  “Adoni get over here and carry me into my ‘ouse,” she demanded “and get on the telephone and tell my useless son to come and take me to the ‘ospital. I have broken my leg and will need a cane.”

  The thin old lady was sprawled scowling on the ground with her skirt in the air. As Adonis leant down to pick her up she slapped him soundly round the head, screeching “don’t you go looking up my skirt yous young pervert.” She jumped to her feet remarkably quickly for an old frail lady with a broken leg.

  “Perhaps it isn’t broke after all,” said Adonis, pushing her into her house and telling her not to be so nosey.

  Shaking hands with Achilles borrowed builder Adonis assured him Quentin and Deirdre would be making use of his services very soon.

  “I think I ‘ave charmed them and they buy this ‘ouse,” he said. “Anyways they will be ‘ere for a while as my cousin Adonis can’t find spare parts for their car. It give me more time to charm them.”

  Chapter 47

  A Passionate Fling

  Before he fell into a drunken stupor Vasilis cast his mind back many years, delving into long forgotten memories. It was fifty years back when he’d had a passionate fling with that flighty young thing Melina, the newlywed bride of Gregoris. The newlyweds were only on a quick visit to Gregoris’ home village of Astakos at the time, having settled in Athens where Gregoris had opened a butchers shop.

  Vasilis, who had been a married man at the time, was quite taken with the charms of the pretty young thing Melina who was already bored of her new and much older husband. Gregoris was an off-putting sight, always clad in a blood stained apron and smelling distinctly of offal. Even on his holidays in the village he loved to spend his time cutting up dead carcases, determined to be a perfectionist in his craft and rise to the level of a master butcher.

  Vasilis and Melina enjoyed a brief and secret liaison conducted passionately in an overgrown olive grove. When Melina returned to Athens with Gregoris she became nothing more than a pleasant memory to Vasilis and by the time he next saw her, decades later, she had aged beyond recognition and there was no longer any spark between them.

  Vasilis had never had any clue Melina’s grown up daughter Stavroula was in fact the fruit of his own loins, as the letter from the Pappas claimed. It turned out Melina had kept her own secret counsel about the true parentage of Stavroula, only making a death bed confession to the Pappas. Stavroula herself had no clue about the true identity of her father, always believing the deceased Gregoris was the one due that titl
e.

  Now the Pappas had sent this horrendous blackmail letter to Vasilis in an attempt to extort lots of money from him. He threatened to reveal Melina’s death bed confession unless Vasilis paid up a hefty sum. Vasilis cursed the Pappas and his blackmailing scheme, but the reason he was devastated to tears by the news was that he had always desperately wanted children of his own. His own first marriage had produced no off-spring and he would have lavished love on Stavroula if he had only known she was his child.

  It particularly pained Vasilis to think he had never really taken the trouble to get to know Stavroula as he hadn’t realised they were related. He’d never even paid her a compliment and if truth be told he considered her a bossy and unpleasant woman.

  Mopping his tears with his sleeve Vasilis decided to head home and tell Masha he had discovered Stavroula was his love child. He would seek her advice on what to do next as she had a sound head above her silicone chest. Masha had been demanding a child of her own of late and he guessed that a fifty year-old step-daughter was not quite what she had in mind.

  Onos the donkey found his way home with Vasilis lurching drunkenly on his back. As he reached the house he belatedly remembered it was Masha’s birthday and fully expected her to greet him in a furious temper as he had forgotten all about it until now.

  Masha was nowhere to be found though. The drawers in their bedroom were flung open and lots of frilly items were scattered around the room. The suitcases usually stored on the top of the wardrobe were gone, as was Masha’s beloved fur coat. Vasilis came to the hasty conclusion Masha had left him.

  Vasilis had actually only missed Masha by a matter of minutes. When Adonis, Quentin and Deirdre had arrived late to the party which had abruptly ended early, Masha was in a rage and throwing things around in a temper tantrum. Even the thoughtful birthday gift of a lovely coral nail polish proffered by Deirdre did not calm her down.

  She demanded Adonis give her a ride to the bus stop as she ranted about the malaka old fool Vasilis forgetting her birthday and how the village women had insulted her by gifting her hideous old lady dresses. In no time at all Masha’s suitcases were secured to the roof of Adonis’ pick-up truck with a length of old rope and the four of them drove off to the bus stop with Masha perched cosily on Quentin’s knee.

  Vasilis was overwhelmed by the empty house and the thought Masha had left him. Coming on top of the Pappas’ blackmail letter and the news that Stavroula was his love child he broke down again. Weeping and wailing in self pity Vasilis got into bed with a bottle of ouzo and drank himself into a comatose stupor.

  Chapter 48

  A Waster in a Dress

  Bald Yannis was disgruntled that he seemed to be one of the few villagers not invited to mail order Masha’ surprise birthday party. Even those peculiar American tourists Adonis rescued on the mountain seemed more popular than him and had received a party invitation, he mused.

  He was pleased to see his next customer was someone even more unpopular than him. The Pappas was gaining a terrible reputation in the village of late as he always seemed to be drunk and, rumour had it, was not very nice to his wife Petula.

  “Yanni, you malaka,” the Pappas proclaimed “this chainsaw you sold me is useless. I want my money back unless you can fix it.”

  “I sold you that chainsaw twenty years ago, not last week,” Bald Yannis said. “Give it me to repair if you like, but don’t expect me to fix it for free.”

  The Pappas grudgingly handed the chainsaw over while muttering “It isn’t right to charge a man of the cloth who does good work in the village.”

  “A no-good drunken waster in a dress more like,” Yannis replied, asking “and when was the last time you did any good works? Not for years now I think. The only good you do is making fat profits for the shop that sells yous your booze.” The Pappas went bright red and stormed out, shouting he would return the next day for the chainsaw and it had better be ready.

  The Pappas had planned to send Petula out for a bit of illegal logging with the chainsaw, but the blade was too dull. He considered he could not possibly go out chopping wood himself as it would not be good for the dignity of his reputation if he was caught. He seemed oblivious to the fact his reputation was going down the pan fast and failed to make the connection between his own bad name and the empty pews in his church.

  If that old fool Vasilis could be persuaded to hand over the blackmail money the Pappas decided he would expand into further extortion attempts. All he needed was some extra juicy deathbed confessions and he would be in a most lucrative business. He felt very smug that he had been clever enough to think up the blackmail ruse, giving no thought to the potentially destructive effect of revealing closely guarded lifelong secrets.

  Cursing Bald Yannis for calling him out as a waster he stormed off to the church and decided to ring the bells early and loudly, thus disturbing anyone trying to enjoy a quiet siesta time.

  Bald Yannis examined the defunct chainsaw, putting it aside to fix the next morning. He had just reached a good bit in the women’s underwear catalogue, having discovered the section on push-up padded bras. His reading was interrupted by a phone call from the hair transplant clinic, confirming his appointment for the day after tomorrow.

  “Most excellent,” said Yannis excitedly. “I cannot wait to have the ‘air on my head once again. I am sure it will make me so ‘andsome that everyone will be jealous and I will be fighting off all the woman.”

  He decided to close the hardware shop early and went off to celebrate by purloining a few items of women’s underwear hanging on the local washing lines.

  Chapter 49

  Fish with a Lemon Dress

  After dropping mail order Masha off at the bus stop Adonis suggested Quentin and Deirdre join him for the evening in the taverna. He would use the time to put his persuasive powers to good use and sell them on the excellent potential of the Lemoni Spiti as a great buy.

  “This will be our treat though,” Deirdre insisted, pulling the large sea bass out of her handbag and telling Adonis she was going to ask Yiota to cook it.

  “Don’t you think you should have left that thing on ice somewhere?” Quentin asked.

  “Oh really K-Went-In don’t make such a fuss, I’m sure it will be fine, it hardly smells at all,” Deirdre declared.

  "Darling Deirdre we have been married forty years and this is the first time you ever called me K-Went-In. I think these quaint Greek village ways are beginning to influence you,” Quentin said.

  “Oh dear, I didn’t realise. I suppose you can always start calling me Did-Rees,” Deirdre laughed.

  Entering ‘Mono Ellinka Trofima’ Deirdre sent Quentin off in the direction of the toilets, telling him he needed a good scrub with soap as he reeked of cheap perfume from having mail order Masha sitting on his knee. As Yiota relieved Deirdre of the large sea bass she assured her “Is no problem you bring your own fish but better next time you gut it first. I no like gutting. I make a nice lemon oil dress for the fish and yous eat it with fried potatoes and salad.”

  “Better use lots of lemon,” Takis advised her as she carried the fish into the kitchen “that thing smells a bit high. Have they never heard of refrigerators in America?”

  “Maybe not,” Yiota said. “Socrates told me American people don’t eat feta but prefer cheese out of an aerosol can. They do have some strange foreign ways abroad.”

  “Ah, we show the nice K-Went-In and Did-Rees our superior Greek ways. We will convince ‘em it is better over ‘ere and they will buy that old falling down ‘ouse and spend their money in ‘ere every night,” Takis said.

  As they tucked into sea bass with a lemon dress Adonis told Quentin and Deirdre that very soon they must come to eat dinner at his hotel and meet his good wife Penelope. The pair declared they would love to, adding “we never even realised you were married Adoni, you kept that quiet.”

  “Well yous never asked,” he replied. “Penelope ‘ave ‘ow you say the working ‘oliday. I send her on cours
e to Athens on hotel management. We go five star this year we ‘ope, what with new shower curtains nailed up and new mosquito eating plugs in all rooms. Penelope tells me she ‘ave learned ‘ow to take bookings on that new-fangled computer thing, so the course was money well spent I am thinking.”

  Talk turned to the inevitable topic of the Lemoni Spiti and Adonis had lots of suggestions to make it more modern.

  “Yous get rid of the kitchen to make living room more bigly,” he suggested. “Yous won’t need a kitchen if yous eat ‘ere every day. K-Went-In I don’t a think you want to chain Did-Rees up in kitchen, no? You build a bigly fence very high then Prosperous Pedros’ mother Fotini cant’s peer at yous as yous sunbathe without the cloths.”

  “Oh I’m sure the old lady is harmless,” Quentin opined, belatedly assuring Adonis neither himself nor Deirdre were into nude sunbathing.

  Tall Thomas was loudly complaining the local council had installed a street light outside his fishing cottage and he couldn’t sleep for the unnatural light. Toothless Tasos had suggested he use a catapult to break the light bulb in it and Tall Thomas had misunderstood and wasted hours hurling the cat up the pole. Now the cat had a headache but the light bulb still glowed.

  “What a waste of our taxes,” Takis agreed “we don’t need any new- fangled street lights.”

  “I ‘eard the council installed them because of the underwear thief,” Yiota explained “all the better for spotting the pervert if he goes out stealing at night.”

  “He needs catching does that one” Takis agreed, announcing to all his customers “Yiota hardly has a single pair of knickers left.”

  Before Tall Thomas had time to tuck into his taramosalata he was disturbed by Prosperous Pedros calling his mobile phone. Prosperous Pedros had pulled into the harbour with a fine catch but was superstitiously worried his fishing luck would be cursed as the Pappas was furtively hanging around the harbour. Prosperous Pedros pleaded with Tall Thomas to pop down to the harbour and distract the Pappas so he could make a quick dash from the boat.