The unseasonably hot heat wave attracted many customers to ‘Mono Ellinka Trofima’ that evening. Tables were packed as Yiota served plates of vegetarian chicken and bowls of fish soup without fish, a particular local favourite.
The retired former police chief Moronic Mitsos joined the others, causing great amusement when he announced he would be running the hardware shop while Bald Yannis went off to visit his cousin for a short visit.
“He’s had yous,” Tall Thomas said. “Bald Yannis isn’t off to visit his cousin, he’s off to have a hair transplant. Trust yous to be the last one to find out Mitso.”
The ensuing laughter was too much for Stavroula who spotting the full tables as she returned from the bakery to her own, nearly empty taverna, was overcome with angry jealousy.
“Disturbing the peace they are,” she ranted down the telephone to the local police station, demanding to make an official complaint about noise pollution. Pancratius, the village policeman who was off sick with pancreatitis, was very annoyed to be dragged from his sick bed over such trivial nonsense, and yet was nevertheless duty bound to investigate.
Strolling up to Takis who was firing the grill he reported “I have had reports your customers are laughing too loudly and disturbing the peace.”
“Let me guess, that old cow Stavroula has made a complaint again,” Takis guessed. “It’s the same old nonsense every year when we carry our tables outside. My customers don’t make half as much noise as Stavroula herself when she screams at Socrates. Sit down for a bowl of fishless fish soup Pancrati and I’ll step outside and tell them to keep the noise down a bit.”
Pancratius took a table well away from Moronic Mitsos as he was in no mood to hear his endless stories of his glory days as the local chief of police. Moronic Mitsos could bore for Greece once he set off reminiscing about his days in the police force.
“Is it an offence to laugh too loudly in your country K-Went-In?” Takis asked. “Stavoula knows all our laws since she took up with Slick Socrates the lawyer and is forever making complaining phone calls to the police.”
“I am not familiar with any such ordinance,” Quentin replied.
Taverna talk soon turned to the horrendous crime wave Astakos was experiencing, namely the theft of fancy underwear from washing lines. It was the first time Moronic Mitsos had heard of this outrage and he decided to make it his business to discover the identity of the culprit. Deirdre confessed she was missing a bra she had hung over the balcony to dry. The former chief of police assured her he would do his best to recover her smalls, saying “my dear Did-Rees, yous underwear will be safe in my hands.”
“No sign of that old fool Vasilis,” Prosperous Pedros noticed. “It’s not like him to miss an evening in here.” As the talk turned to Vasilis concerns began to be voiced no one at all had seen the old fool since Masha had left him.
“Perhaps someone should call round and make sure the old fool is still alive,” Gorgeous Yiorgos said.
“Very good of you to volunteer,” everyone agreed as it was settled Gorgeous Yiorgos would go the old fool’s house the next morning.
Chapter 54
Gorgeous Yiorgos Makes a Grisly Discovery
News of Gorgeous Yiorgos’ grisly discovery was the talk of the village before noon the next day. The gossip was soon confirmed by the loud clanging of the church bell announcing the sad demise of that old fool Vasilis.
Gorgeous Yiorgos was not short of an audience as he recounted finding Vasilis sprawled out dead on his bed, clutching a glossy photograph of Masha posing in a bikini, in his gnarled and stiffened fingers. The bedroom smelt like a brewery and all Mashas’ frillies were still scattered over the floor where she had thrown them in her haste to pack up and leave Vasilis. Onos the donkey had been wandering about in the kitchen with a miserable hangover, obviously pining for his best friend.
The undertaker was duly contacted and the Pappas was notified and began to make the funeral arrangements. The Pappas was most conflicted as he had really hoped for a good funeral to boost his dwindling congregation, but cursed it was that old fool Vasilis who had gone and kicked the bucket before paying up the blackmail money. The Pappas was too self absorbed to consider his own blackmail scheme may have hastened the early death of Vasilis from the stress.
Chatter was rife as the village folk drank coffee in Stavroulas. “That gold digger Masha she kill him by leaving him,” was one popular point of view, but Tassia was quick to defend Masha declaring she had really loved him.
Mrs Kolokotronis was openly weeping and felt responsible for Masha’s departure. “We insulted her by giving her all those hideous old lady dresses,” she declared “and Vasilis forgetting her birthday must have been the last straw.”
“He die of a broken heart,” Petros the postman opined.
“It is all so dreadfully sad,” Deirdre said. “Masha will be heartbroken I am sure when she hears.”
“She ‘ave no heart, she mail order gold digger,” Stavroula offered. “Still he was far too young to die; he was only eighty four with lots of life still in ‘im.”
The only certainty was Masha must be notified of her husband’s demise. No one knew where she had gone and the last person to see her was Adonis when he left her at the bus stop with her heavy suitcases. “I think she go ‘ome to Russia,” Adonis said “but wherever she is she must be told.”
Luckily Evangelia from the beauty shop had the mobile telephone number of her most frequent customer and the village folks were able to leave a frantic voicemail message breaking the tragic news and urging Masha to return home in time for the funeral.
Chapter 55
A New Look For Toothless Tasos
Toothless Tasos was blissfully oblivious to the passing of that old fool Vasilis. Brimming with excitement over the prospect of his dinner date with Thea that evening he had driven into town to buy some new clothes to impress her. He decided to splurge on a new suit and tie as he wanted to look his very best and found a very shiny blue suit on sale for a massively discounted price.
The only suit he possessed was the one he had worn to his wedding with Stavroula and these days it only got an outing for funerals. Luckily the new very shiny blue suit was in the same style as his old one as Toothless Tasos did not want to experiment with anything too trendy.
He planned to take Thea to the nearby village of Marouli, named for lettuce, as the evening would be a disaster if the folk in Astakos were watching and gossiping about his every move. There was a nice little taverna in Marouli that served excellent souvlaki and best of all it was very cheap. Toothless Tasos was a bit of a skinflint if truth be told and moths were known to emerge from his wallet when he finally prised it open.
He hoped Thea would not mind travelling there in the ancient side- car that was welded onto his now vintage motorbike. He had an idea some women could be a bit funny about wearing a crash helmet on top of their hairdos. Toothless Tasos was very law abiding, as he didn’t want to do anything to draw attention to himself after successfully getting away with faking his own death.
On his return to the village he had an appointment at the beauty parlour for a new hair cut and it was there Evangelia broke the news to him of Vasilis’ death. His first reaction was most selfish as he hoped the bad news would not mean Thea felt the need to postpone their impending dinner date. He decided if she was distressed he would comfort her. He made a mental note to take a newly washed pocket handkerchief along on his date in case he had to mop up her tears of grief.
Evangelia scolded Toothless Tasos on the terrible condition of his hair, persuading him to have a drastic new cut revealing his ears. She sent him on his way with an expensive bagful of hair products he was clueless how to use. She sprayed his hair with enough products it failed to move in the breeze and was very stiff to the touch. She insisted on shaving the straggly beard from his face, leaving the bottom half of his face a sickly pale pallor compared to the rest of his weather browned features.
By the time he was
dressed in his new shiny blue suit he felt quite different, even though he had kept his holey pullover on beneath the suit jacket for comfort. He was unable to assess his new look as his house lacked any kind of mirror and had no idea he looked quite ridiculous, not to mention too shiny.
He called for Thea with a bunch of wilting flowers in his hand. Not recognizing her lovelorn suitor in his very shiny blue suit, sweeping brush stiff hair and newly shaved face, she attempted to slam the door in his face, saying she wasn’t interested in buying any flowers.
“It is I Tasos come to take yous to dinner,” he announced with one foot in her door, causing Thea to do a double take when she realised it was indeed Toothless Tasos and not a shiny, slimy door to door salesman.
She supposed it was a bit of an improvement over his usual bedraggled look but was nevertheless mortified to be stepping out with anyone tasteless enough to wear such an execrable excuse of a shiny blue suit over a holey pullover. As she climbed into his ancient side-car she supposed he had at least made an effort, though she noticed he had made no attempt to compliment on her appearance. Toothless Tasos thought Thea looked like a goddess but he was far too tongue tied to tell her.
The cheap taverna Toothless Tasos had chosen to impress Thea was overrun with cats. Luckily the motorbike side-car was equipped with Tasos’ trusty old water pistol which he used to scare the cats away, thinking he was being most gentlemanly. As Thea was a great lover of cats Toothless Tasos went down even further in her estimation. Tasos stood out like a sore thumb in his shiny new suit as the other customers were dressed in typical farmer gear, having spent most of the day harvesting lettuces.
Conversation naturally turned to the death of Vasilis as it had been such an unexpected shock to all the villagers. “I wonder if mail order Masha will inherit his ‘ouse and all his money,” Thea mused, contemplating how much money she owed for all the tat she had been buying from the addictive home shopping channel.
“Well he’s no one else to leave it to and she was his wife,” Tasos said, “he never had any children, or at least none we ‘eard of.”
“She’ll only get it if she ‘ears he’s dead and turns up,” Thea suggested. “If she doesn’t turn up it should go to the donkey home as you know how that old fool Vasilis was about donkeys.”
Attempting to keep the conversation going Toothless Tasos asked Thea if any of her underwear had gone missing.
“I think the first date is a bit too soon to be taking an interest in my smalls,” Thea replied.
The conversation dried up as their souvlaki arrived. Thea considered Toothless Tasos was showing no class at all by bringing her to this cheap taverna with only souvlaki, lettuce and keftedes on the menu. Gorgeous Yiorgos had gone to a bit more effort when he took her out and boasted a car with a sunroof, rather than an ancient bike with a side-car.
On the plus side Toothless Tasos was such an old miser he must have plenty of money saved up in the bank. Even if she could stop her shopping channel addiction cold turkey there were still a lot of bills to settle for the piles of tat she had been buying which necessitated her catching a fourth husband very quickly.
Thea suggested they leave early as they had to be up at the crack of dawn for Vasils’ funeral and it didn’t seem seemly to be out having fun so soon after his death. As Toothless Tasos bid her goodnight on her doorstep he gallantly presented her with a bottle of olive oil as a traditional gesture of courtship.
“Oh look,” said Deirdre, hanging over the balcony to get a good view “Toothless Tasos has just taken Thea home, I hope they had a romantic date.”
“Shush, it will be all round the village tomorrow if you say it too loudly,” Quentin said “I’ve never known a place where people gossip so much.”
Chapter 56
The Funeral
Everyone in the village turned out for that old fool Vasilis’ funeral. The Pappas was in a most inappropriately cheery smug mood as the church was for once bursting at the seams and all the pews were full. Most of the congregation fell asleep as the Pappas droned on, and had to be nudged awake when it was time to line up and give the corpse in his open coffin a traditional kiss.
“No sign of mail order Masha,” Stavroula noticed.
“We left plenty of messages on her mobile phone but she didn’t respond,” Slick Socrates told her.
Quentin and Deirdre couldn’t understand what was going on but they joined the line of ‘kissing the corpse’ mourners as it seemed the right thing to do. Handkerchiefs were whipped out of pockets and used to cover noses as the mourners approached the corpse of old Vasilis who reeked of donkey and ouzo. “Do you really think I need to kiss him?” Deirdre whispered to Quentin “after all I hardly knew him.”
“It seems to be the done thing,” Quentin whispered back “just hold your nose and get on with it.”
After the corpse of Vasilis had received its last kiss the lid of the coffin was lowered, sealing Vasilis tightly inside still clutching the glossy photograph of Masha in a bikini. The processional walk to the graveyard, where a newly dug hole awaited Vasilis, was led by the Pappas followed by Onos the donkey adorned with a wreath.
The six pallbearers followed next and then the rest of the mourners. The task of hoisting the coffin on their shoulders fell to Toothless Tasos, Fat Christos, Gorgeous Yiorgos, Prosperous Pedros, Tall Thomas and Takis. They stumbled along under the weight, trying to avoid slipping in the mess Onos the donkey left in her wake.
The funeral livened up a bit at the graveside when a hysterically sobbing woman appeared with her face encased in bandages. Even though the bandages concealed all the woman’s features there was no doubt it was mail order Masha as the enormous silicone chest, long blonde hair extensions and tottering stilettos gave her identity away.
“It’s too late her coming back now when it was her leaving him what killed him,” Stavroula said loudly. “Heartbroken he was over that heartless loose hussy.”
“I never leave him,” mail order Masha cried out. “I only go to the clinic in Athens to ‘ave my lips done. I would have been back sooner if the lips not go ‘orribly wrong.”
Mail order Masha was telling the truth. On the day of her birthday she had intended to surprise Vasilis by telling him he had bought her a pair of luscious new lips as a present and she just had to pop along to the clinic in Athens to have the filler injected. When he had disappeared on the day of the party she had flounced off to the clinic in a temper, leaving Vasilis to presume she had left him. She had always intended to return to her old fool of a husband and would have been back sooner if her lip operation hadn’t gone horribly wrong.
Masha had suffered some kind of allergic reaction to the injection of filler and her lips had puffed up to four times their normal size, leaving her with the most grotesque ‘trout pout’. She could not bear to look in the mirror and had insisted the incompetent clinician wrap her face in bandages until her ‘trout pout’ deflated.
Masha had only received word of Vasilis’ tragic demise the day before as she had been ignoring all her telephone calls, presuming it was Vasilis who she was still very cross at and did not want to talk to.
As the grave digger began to shovel earth atop Vasilis’ coffin, Masha’s mobile phone began to ring. The mourners gave her dirty looks, telling her to turn the phone off as the graveside was no place for such disturbances, and as a supposedly grieving widow, she ought to know better. When Masha went to turn off the phone she thought it must be some sort of sick joke as the number flashing up on her mobile was that of Vasilis.
Frantically shushing the mourners Masha answered the phone and began screaming manically, telling the gravedigger to stop his shovelling. “Dig him up, dig him up,” she screeched like a demented banshee. “Vasilis he on the phone and say he is alive in dark place.”
“Don’t be so absurd,” the Pappas said, but Masha handed the phone to Slick Socrates who soon confirmed it was indeed Vasilis on the phone.
The coffin was hoisted out of the hole an
d everyone watched in collective awe as the lid was prised open. A furious Vasilis climbed unsteadily out of the coffin demanding to know what on earth was going on. It turned out he hadn’t been dead at all but simply pickled from alcohol. The ouzo had knocked him into a comatose state. It was only as the coffin lid closed and he began to be deprived of air he had started to come round in a dreadful panic as he realised he was trapped in a dark box.
The mourners thought a miracle had taken place and began frantically making the sign of the cross and then leaping with joy as though they were in some evangelical gospel meeting. As Vasilis began to understand the predicament he had just escaped from the expletives started at a fast and furious pace as he cursed those gathered to give him a send off.
“Bury me alive would you, you malakas, can’t a man have a drink in peace without being thrown in the grave? And why you no put no photo of Onus the donkey in my coffin you malakas?” Vasilis demanded to know
“We thought you were dead of a broken heart when mail order Masha leave you,” Gorgeous Yiorgos said.
“I no leave yous my love, I am right here,” Masha declared throwing herself into the arms of her husband. Seeing his wife encased in facial bandages Vasilis started to scream, accusing the mourners of beating her up and telling them they were dead men if they laid one more fist on her.
“No one ‘urt me except with insults” Masha assured Vasilis “the bandages are to cover my ‘orrible botched lip job.”
“Remove them at once and let me kiss you,” Vasilis said, but Masha refused, saying “they ‘ave to heal before you get frisky.”
Everyone was horrified when they realised Vasilis had actually been buried alive and was only saved from the grave as he happened to have his mobile phone in his pocket. Slick Socrates commented he must change his mobile phone provider as Vasilis’ phone had remarkable service if it worked from an underground grave.
Goat In The Meze: A farcical look at Greek life (The Greek Meze Series Book 1) Page 11