Bald Yannis scowled at these new customers as they demanded he show them his full collection of hideous old lady dresses which they expected to try on before buying. “No one try on dresses before buying,” he insisted, but he had finally met his match in these two indomitable and cantankerous women. They started to brazenly strip off their clothes in the middle of his shop floor, giving him a horrifying flash of their hairy chests, before he hastily showed them into his filthy stock room to try on the dresses they had chosen.
“Oh look, the malaka sells waterproof bedspreads,” Nitsa said, pointing at the shower curtains and giving Bald Yannis another idea for marketing his shower curtain stock.
Nitsa picked up a shower curtain and asked Bald Yannis if he could cut two holes in it for armholes as she thought it would make a most elegant and patriotic raincoat. “Anything to oblige,” Bald Yannis agreed, using his chainsaw to cut two circular holes in the shower curtain. These two elderly ladies were giving him a wealth of ideas for flogging off his surplus shower curtains in imaginative and profitable ways. He was actually smiling as he totted up the total for the sale of several hideous old lady dresses, another waterproof bedspread and a raincoat. He remembered to charge extra for his chain sawing services and then uncharacteristically offered to carry their purchases to their car.
As they walked back to the car Fotini suggested they could have some fun at the expense of those two strange Americans as she had heard they were due back to have another viewing of the ‘Lemoni Spiti’ they had just bought.
Chapter 87
Policemen Return from Nowhere
Heading back to his hardware shop after escorting the two old ladies to their car, Bald Yannis ran into Moronic Mitsos who demanded to know if Shirley Valentine had replied to his billet-doux. Bald Yannis told him Shirley was keen to visit the handsome rich Greek with a yacht, but she expected him to pay for her airline ticket.
“Po po, I thinks the Shirley is after my money,” Moronic Mitsos complained, to which Bald Yannis told him “well you did try to pass yourself of as an almost millionaire. I ‘ave just ‘ad a reply to your fake advertisement from someone who is rich,” he lied.
Moronic Mitsos got suitably excited until Bald Yannis delivered his punch line, telling him the rich suitor was a man rather a woman. “Po po I no want no men after me,” Moronic Mitsos declared “better ask the Shirley how much she need for the ticket.”
Having amused himself completely at the expense of Moronic Mitsos, Bald Yannis had a brainwave and stopped to chat with Stavroula. Ten minutes later she left his hardware shop clutching a large pile of lobster adorned patriotic shower curtains Bald Yannis had convinced her to buy as easily wiped down tablecloths for her taverna.
As Stavroula was putting the new shower curtain tablecloths on her taverna tables she was perturbed to notice the return of the two policemen from the up ‘north village’ of Pouthena, named for nowhere. “I wonder what those malakas want now?” Stavroula muttered to herself while attempting to disarm them with a fake smile.
“’Ave you found Kostas?” she asked, knowing full well unless they had dug up the chicken coop his body would not have been discovered.
“Your ‘usband Kostas appears to have disappeared with no trace,” the policemen told her. “His body was not found in the ravine and while it is true the body could ‘ave been eaten by wild animals there is no evidence to suggest it was there. Katerina is really worried about her brother and nags us endlessly to find out what ‘appened to him.”
Stavroula forcefully made her position clear, saying to the policemen “I told you everything, that no good malaka Kostas playing round with another loose woman hussy and leave me abandoned and alone in ‘up north’ village of Pouthena where I ‘ave no friends. The ‘ouse in my name so I sells it and returns to Astakos where I ‘ave the many friends to comfort me over the philandering ways of the run off ‘usband.”
The policemen were satisfied Stavroula sounded most convincing and hoped she would rustle them up some tasty food in her kitchen. However Stavroula’s patience over the matter was wearing thin as she considered three visits from the constabulary to be excessive and she had no intention of providing them with a third free meal. She launched into a tirade against police ineptitude, telling them they should have put as much effort into catching the perverted underwear thief who had savagely attacked her in her own back garden and was still on the loose. “Left me for dead he did. What yous doing about that, yous malakas?”
The policemen explained the case of the attacking underwear thief was unfortunately out of their jurisdiction, but they were quite aghast this lovely woman who could cook up a dream had been a helpless victim of some kind of pervert. They assured Stavroula they would speak to Katerina and tell her unless some vital new evidence came up they would have to consider the case of the missing Kostas closed.
Stavroula relented as the policemen had evidenced such good sense and served them some freshly cooked yemistas. They admired her new patriotic tablecloths adorned with lobsters and regretted now the case was closed they would miss the opportunity to sample any more of Stavroula’s delicious cooking.
Chapter 88
Goats in the Inheritance
When Gorgeous Yiorgos drove Petula home from the hospital he was on hand to help her receive several concerned visitors. Slick Socrates stopped by, shocked by the lurid bruises still decorating Petula’s face. He was not happy Petula seemed prepared to take the seemingly contrite Pappas back and he knew Petula was unaware of the Pappas’ blackmailing scam, which would have disgusted her.
Mail order Masha arrived, tossing her newly bright red hair extensions. She brought generous gifts of some concealing make-up to cover the lurid bruises and a Tupperware bowl full of her by now infamous borscht. Yiota dropped by with a competing bowlful of tasty stifado and suspiciously sniffed the borscht with an amused expression.
Petula confided to her visitors she was prepared to give the Pappas one final chance, explaining if she left him she would be homeless and destitute. Socrates confirmed the Pappas had tied up his assets in such a way Petula would find it difficult to access them.
Poor Petula still partially blamed herself for the beating she had received from her husband, as she had deceived him by selling her engagement ring and she had been responsible for inadvertently murdering his beloved pet goat Krasi. She decided it would go some way towards mending her sorry marriage if she made a gift to her husband of a new pet goat, and enlisted the help of her visitors to secure a suitably cute animal. Gorgeous Yiogos took it upon himself to find a cute pet goat as it had been his car involved in the murderous accident.
Mail order Masha appeared suddenly distracted as she noticed to her horror one of her new bright red nail extensions was missing. She hoped it hadn’t fallen into the Tupperware bowl of borscht she had brought along to Petula as it would be awful if Petula choked on the nail extension and ended right back in the hospital.
Petula was not the only Astakostan to return to the village that day. Fat Christos returned from the clinic where the surgeon had received a handsome brown envelope to perform the stomach stapling surgery. He was already looking decidedly trimmer and his new diet of only liquidised foods would help him to quickly shed his remaining excess kilos.
Toothless Tasos ran into Fat Christos as the latter headed towards the supermarket to be reunited with his new bride. Toothless Tasos promised to give him plenty of tips on liquidised foods as they had been his staple diet for years, before he had invested in his new false teeth.
Tassia was a little apprehensive about the return of her new groom as she worried his mother would be putting suspicious ideas in his head about the paternity of the baby. She hoped her warning that she was prepared to rescind the invitation of having Mrs Kolokotronis come live with the newlyweds was enough of a threat for the older woman to keep her mouth shut.
Tassia complimented her husband on his drastic weight loss and promised him she would learn to become a wh
izz with the blender. Fat Christos confided as he lost more weight his excess skin could present a problem as his stomach was already sagging down to his knees. Not only was it proving very heavy and sweaty to cart around but it also gave him a nasty itchy rash.
Tassia had a happy announcement to make as she had just received the legal copy of her old uncle’s will. In addition to the supermarket, she had inherited his rambling old house in the neighbouring village of Rapanaki, eight hundred olive trees, a herd of goats and a fishing boat.
“What no cash?” questioned Fat Christos.
He was relieved when Tassia told him her family had a history of hiding cash in obscure places as they didn’t trust banks and there may well be bags full of the stuff hidden in his house, the chicken coop and even the goat pen. She suggested they instigate a search for any cash and this delighted Fat Christos who needed to wangle another brown envelope to bribe the surgeon for an operation to have his excess skin removed.
“I never knew your old dead uncle had a fishing boat,” Fat Christos said.
“He kept it down at Gavros apparently,” Tassia told him “but now we can bring it home and you will be able to fish again whenever you fancy.”
Fat Christos was really happy he would once again own a fishing boat and considered this gave him one up on the meddling tax inspectors.
“I wonder if I can get my plastic relaxation chair back from Toothless Tasos?” he pondered.
He was a tad worried when Tassia said there was no need as she would treat him to a new one, as he did not want her throwing their new found wealth around indiscriminately.
The newlyweds decided to close the supermarket early. They were not heading home for a romantic interlude to make up for missing a proper wedding night. Instead they planned to get the keys to Tassia’s dead uncle’s house and go searching for any hidden bags of cash.
Chapter 89
Picking Weeds
Prosperous Pedros felt duty bound to call on his old mother Fotini and check everything was going well with her and her house guest. Nitsa greeted him at the door and told him Fotini was down the garden perched up on the three-legged olive tree ladder to spy on her soon to be new neighbours. Prosperous Pedros decided with his mother out of earshot this would be a good opportunity to broach the subject of his dead father with Nitsa.
“I would be ‘appy if yous don’t mention to my mother my father is dead as the grief would kill her,” he said.
“What you talking nonsense about, yous father not dead, he gone to Athens?” Nitsa replied. “If he was dead yous would be living ‘ere with yous mother, like what a dutiful son would.”
Prosperous Pedros was greatly relieved Nitsa was actually under deluded the impression his dead father was in Athens. It was in truth the only aspect of her visit that had unnerved him and now he knew she believed the Athens nonsense he couldn’t really care less how much havoc the two elderly ladies could potentially cause. Embarrassment was after all a small price to pay to avoid dutifully moving in with his mother.
“Those must be those strange Americans,” Nitsa said, pointing next door, “be off with you Pedro while I goes and climb the ladder with Fotini.”
Deirdre and Quentin were quite disturbed to discover not one, but two, eccentric old ladies perched up the three-legged olive tree ladder peering down at them.
“Isn’t that the old dear from the old Mercedes taxi who drove into the back of Tall Thomas’ mobile refrigerated fish van?” Quentin asked, nodding to himself as he spotted the now dented old Mercedes taxi parked outside the neighbouring house. “I wonder what they find so fascinating.”
Deirdre was engrossed in conversation with Achilles the borrowed builder who was busy suggesting he build her an outdoor bread oven.
“I think I would prefer an electric one in the kitchen,” Deirdre told him, only to have Achilles reply “but I thought you wanted ancient traditions in ‘ouse. Is old custom to bake bread outdoors. I not understand you Did-Rees, one day yous want the old and I says get modern, then I suggest the old and yous demand modern. Yous is a difficult confusing woman.”
Eager to placate the borrowed builder Deirdre assured him she loved his suggestions and between them they would come up with a compromise she could live with.
“No one in Idaho has ever come up with anything as imaginative as the marvellous things you plan to do with shower curtains Achille. K-Went-In really likes the idea you had of building a secret room off the kitchen to hide from unwanted visitors in, that was a stroke of genius.”
Quentin had indeed liked the idea as he envisaged it would be very handy if any of Deirdre’s relatives turned up uninvited for a free holiday.
Their conversation was interrupted by the uninvited arrival of Fotini and Nitsa who had managed to scale the neighbouring wall without breaking any bones. They made quite a sight in their hideous old lady dresses, with their pop socks revealing hairy legs that matched their moustaches. Armed with plastic carrier bags they made a grab for Deirdre’s arm, gesticulating at the ground and muttering “horta, horta.”
“I thinks the old crones wants show yous how to forage wild greens,” Adonis translated as Fotini dragged Deirdre into the thigh high weeds and started shoving nettles and poppy leaves into her plastic carrier bag.
“Oh how kind,” Deirdre commented. “I have seen Yiota serve horta, but am yet to try it.”
“Is easy,” Adonis told her “yous boil green weeds for three hours and put on the lemon and olive oil dress. This garden give yous free food, very tasty, horta very goodly with road-kill goat.”
Fotini emitted a high pitched screech as she heard the word goat and gambolled back over the neighbouring wall at a terrific pace, taking the bag of wild greens she had picked with her.
“She probably see snake,” Adonis explained, to the consternation of Deirdre who was not used to living in close proximity to snakes.
Nitsa told Adonis to tell the two Americans they should pop by tomorrow to sample the horta once it had been boiled. Quentin and Deirdre warily expressed their acceptance of this invitation though they were not convinced the two eccentric elderly ladies were completely compos mentis.
Chapter 90
The Missing Cat
Toothless Tasos had just received a shock to his system when he discovered the perfect goddess he had put on a pedestal of worship, actually had feet of clay. Thea had called on Toothless Tasos in a bit of a tizzy as she had lost her cat. She was convinced the cat was still inside the house as it hated going outdoors. She was having trouble locating it behind the vast mounds of tat she had impulsively purchased from the home shopping channel before destroying her television set with a hammer. She was worried the cat might suffocate amidst the clutter or suffer some other ghastly fate.
Toothless Tasos was of course delighted to come to the assistance of Thea and hoped it would increase his heroic status in her eyes. He had never before been invited to cross the threshold into Thea’s home and was rather floored by the sight that greeted him. There was not a centimetre of space not covered in piles of tat and Thea’s many excessive impulse purchases.
The realisation hit Toothless Tasos his beloved was a hoarder, a habit he personally deplored, preferring a minimalistic approach to his living space, as his possession of a solitary deckchair demonstrated. The hoarding habit revealed Thea to be a weak willed spendthrift in his eyes. However even with this glaring personal failure revealed he could not stop loving Thea as it was his personal weak willed habit to adore her unconditionally.
Climbing precariously over the top of a sofa piled high with boxes Toothless Tasos hissed “Gata Gata,” in a desperate effort to locate the missing cat. He hoped it would not startle him by springing out suddenly as he had a personal loathing of cats which he considered to be thieving creatures. Far too many of the things had made off with parts of his fishy catch by hovering and pouncing, something he did not appreciate after a hard night’s graft fishing.
“Thea this impossible, it’s
impossible to move, to find anything, to even breathe. Much as it pains me to tell yous an unpleasant ‘ome truth, yous ‘ave way too much clutter. Something must be done to reduce all this tat so yous have space to move and find the cat,” he pronounced.
“Oh I know you are right Taso, but I must confess I had a terrible habit of buying things impulsively from the home shopping channel. All this tat has racked up huge debts and I just want rid of it all. I have controlled the bad habit and buy no more. I don’t want to be a hoarder, will yous help me?” Thea sobbed uncontrollably, embarrassed that her compulsive shopping habit had been discovered.
Toothless Tasos made an uncharacteristically bold move and took the weeping Thea into his arms to comfort her. “Now dry you eyes, I have dealt with worse than this,” Tasos assured her as he scrubbed her face dry with a fishy smelling hanky. He remembered the extraordinary lengths he had been driven to in order to get out of Stavroula’s clutches all those years ago and compared to that Thea’s current problems were miniscule.
“You owes debt money, so we clean out ‘ouse and ‘ave a sale of all this tat to raise money to pay debt money back,” Tasos decreed. “For a start I buy that arm chair with cat hair to replace the decorative plastic chair I got from Fat Christos, as he wants it back to put in Tassia’s dead uncle’s fishing boat.”
With that Tasos hoisted the cat hair covered armchair onto his back and carried it home, returning immediately to help Thea sort through the rest of the junk.
After several hours of hard work sorting through tat the pair returned to Toothless Tasos’ house to catch up with the latest gripping instalment of their favourite soap opera ‘Seven Deadly Mothers-in-Law.’ As they entered his living room Toothless Tasos was surprised to discover Thea’s missing cat was curled up fast asleep in his new cat haired covered armchair. He suspected he may have difficulties in encouraging it to leave.
Goat In The Meze: A farcical look at Greek life (The Greek Meze Series Book 1) Page 18