by Anna Harvey
“The village looks closer,” Rob broke the silence. He furtively glanced at the gathering storm clouds.
Breaking out of her thoughts, Thea finally answered. “I think we need to head towards the beach. It’s a longer walk but we’re more likely to find holiday apartments or a restaurant. Somewhere that has a phone we can use. Judging from today’s experience, I’m not confident that we’d find anything in the village except locked doors.” The rain had now begun to fall again in heavy droplets.
“We’d better get moving then as this storm is closing in quickly.” Rob’s voice had taken on an urgency as another flash of lightning out at sea lit up the sky. This time there was a deep growling of thunder and the juddering vibration of the earth.
They set off down the asphalt road which skirted a steep hill, the edge falling away into a tree-clad valley. The lightning flashes were intensifying but also the growls of thunder. They quickened their steps. Thea glanced across at Rob. Beneath the layer of waterproofs, his solid frame seemed to possess an almost superhuman vigour. It wasn’t long before Rob’s agile strides outpaced Thea. He must have realised as he slowed his pace to allow Thea to catch her breath.
“You know that in ancient times,” Thea said, gasping, struggling to make herself heard through the pelting rain, ”people believed thunder was a sign of the gods’ anger.”.
“Well they seem pretty upset right now,” Rob retorted, a gust of wind carrying away his words. The rain was now sheeting down, the wetness penetrating their waterproof clothing and soaking any flesh or clothing left exposed. ”This storm is getting worse,” Rob shouted above the tempest, his words almost drowned by the heavy downpour. “We need to find shelter.” Thea nodded in agreement. But there was no immediate sign of any building or rocky outcrop to take refuge, only the smooth stretch of road disappearing behind a distant bend.
They had been walking at a fast pace for some time, when at last some sign of shelter came into view. It was where a lush green valley gave way to scrubland; where the road met the edge of the coastal cliffs and where the grey frothing sea waves could be glimpsed. There perched above, overlooking the bay, was a small pension.
“Let’s check if it’s open” Rob said.
Thoroughly soaked, Thea nodded her agreement. They climbed up the marble steps and walked past the patio and swimming pool, where the rain was ricocheting off the paved tiles. The marl stone flags were now awash with rainwater rather than sunbeds, tubes of sun-cream and holiday-makers. The glass fronted doors slammed shut behind them, as they entered the vestibule, announcing their arrival. In the stillness of the guesthouse, their presence felt like an intrusion. Somewhere from within the building, a shrill female voice called out, followed by footsteps and then a middle-aged woman emerged. With her hair swept back behind her face, her appearance was plain, verging on world-weary, but the woman’s welcoming expression transformed her features.
The glass doors banged again from the storm ranging outside, rattling and echoing around the hard floor and bare walls. “I assume you would like me to do the talking and enquire about the telephone,” Thea said to Rob, speaking in a low voice. “I suspect my Greek is slightly better than yours.”
Rob shot Thea a look, but amusement danced in his eyes. “You’re teasing me!” He had just removed his waterproof, to reveal his hair dripping with raindrops. In the circumstances, he looked remarkably relaxed and composed. “On this occasion, I’m happy to let you do the talking.”
Rob stepped back, as Thea introduced them in her politest Greek, explaining their circumstances. The woman gestured Rob over, placing an old phone in his hand.
“She is saying it’s no problem,” said Thea, translating the jumble of words. “You’re welcome to use the phone.” As Rob dialled the number, the woman tugged away his sodden coat from beneath his arm, hanging it on a nearby stand.
“Kafe?” the woman whispered to Thea under her breath. When Thea nodded, she disappeared into the back of the building. It was a relief to find shelter, where they could at least have a hot drink. Thea shivered. Not only did she feel soaked from the lashing of rain, but also surprisingly cold. She walked across the lounge area to watch the storm raging outside, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. Through the wide panoramic windows, the mountain side fell away to the crescent shaped bay. Below was a shingle beach and white circling cliffs, now obscured by mist and rain. On a summer day, with the sun setting over the bay, it would be breathtakingly beautiful but with the storm raging, it felt primordial and menacing, as if there were more powerful elemental forces at work. The sky was suddenly illuminated by a short lightning streak and a quieter roll of thunder. The storm was losing its ferocity.
“I’ve spoken to the car rental office in the main town.” The sound of Rob’s voice startled her as she had not heard him walk up behind her. “They can’t get anyone out here tonight. Not in this weather.” He spoke rapidly to cover any awkwardness, as if sensing this news might displease her. “They promised to come out first thing tomorrow. Unfortunately for tonight we are stranded.”
Thea felt her body stiffen, but she checked her reaction. At that moment, the woman returned with a tray loaded with steaming cups of coffee and honeyed pastries. “Ela,” she beckoned them over, carefully setting down the contents on a small wooden table. “Weather, no good,” she tutted to Rob in sympathy, raising her forehead in disbelief. “Eat please,” she gestured to them both.
Thea smiled and thanked her, taking a mouthful of the coffee. She grasped the hot cup with gratitude, allowing the warmth to spread slowly through her hands and into her body. Rob was watching her attentively, as her body started to shiver in her damp clothes. Except for small traces of pastry and honeyed nuts, the plate in front of him was empty.
“What do you want to do,” Rob asked concerned. “You look cold and wet.” He refilled her cup with hot coffee and handed it to her. “I have another sweater in my bag, if you want it.”
Thea shook her head, hunched over her coffee cup. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured him, deliberately throwing off his concern, although she shivered in her wet clothes. “I didn’t expect we’d get caught in such a storm.” She rubbed her arms for warmth as she quickly considered the options before them. “Let’s see if we can rent a couple of rooms for the night,” she said, taking charge of the situation. “How many euros do you have? They probably accept only cash here.”
Rob reached for his wallet. It was made of soft brown leather, well-worn and scuffed. He tipped out the contents in front of her, placing a handful of notes on the table. Thea silently counted them. Adding her own limited cash, it didn’t appear enough.
“Let me speak with the proprietor and see what I can negotiate,” Thea offered. The woman looked up from the reception desk as Thea approached her. The conversation now flowed easily in Greek, as Thea explained their predicament. But as they discussed the room rental for the night, Thea could feel her anxiety mounting as she gripped the wad of notes tightly in her hand. The response was not what Thea had hoped. Finally beaten, Thea returned to Rob, who had been sat watching the exchange.
“What did she say?” asked Rob. “You don’t look happy.”
“She can offer us room and board for the night, but,” she hesitated slightly, trying to steady her voice, “we’ll have to share.”
“Echei dyo krevatia, to domatio ?” asked Thea turning once more to their propietress, wanting to reassure herself that at least the beds would be separate.
“Echei dyo krevati e diplo, opos theleis,“ nodded the woman, trying to put her mind at ease.
“She can offer us a twin bedded room,” explained Thea, omitting to translate the whole sentence. The beds, either as singles or doubles, could be arranged as they wished. Although she didn’t know why, being deprived of her solitary refuge unnerved her as did being in close proximity to this man.
“Don’t worry. I’m used to bunking up with colleagues down in the Pol.” Rob was sat comfortably on his chair, his a
rms stretched out behind him. ”I’m sure we’ll manage for one night.”
Keen to secure their business, the proprietor now motioned Thea over to accept the offer. “Einai poly oraio to domatio,” she said encouragingly.
“She is saying it is a lovely room”, Thea translated.
“Well at least let’s take a look,” Rob suggested casually and he nodded his approval. They followed their Greek host up an external white staircase. The wind was still gusting and rain spattered the white marble steps. The light in the upstairs corridor was muted but everything appeared clean and well kept. Part way along, the woman unlocked a dark wood-stained panelled door.
“Very nice,” the woman said beaming in broken English, turning to Rob. She obviously recognised him as an ally for the deal that was being brokered.
A single light shade illuminated the room, casting a yellow pallid light. The room was simply furnished with pine furniture, a polished tiled floor and white-painted walls, giving the illusion of airiness. But it was the two beds pushed together in the centre of the room which instantly caught Thea’s attention. The only splash of colour was the pair of curtains, bright scarlet like a warning beacon, which the woman now pulled back to reveal the balcony beyond. The dim light of the dying storm entered the room, revealing the sudden drop to the bay below.
“The view looks stunning,” Thea commented biting her lip, still feeling uneasy at the proposed arrangement and begrudging having to share her personal space.
“This will do fine,” said Rob without hesitation, “let’s take it,” overruling any doubts. He nodded at their host, who broke into a broad grin. The woman busied herself in the wardrobe, pulling out a stack of woollen blankets.
“Kryo,” she said, rubbing her arms and mimicking shivering for Rob’s benefit. “You sleep well tonight,” and she handed the pile to Thea. The transaction completed, the woman withdrew, leaving them alone in the room together.
“Which bed do you want? Left or right?” asked Rob, flinging his wet rucksack on the floor with a heavy thud. At once Thea realised any opportunity to change the lay-out of the room had passed. It would only draw attention to her intense discomfort. The furniture would have to stay in place.
“I’ll take the side nearest the window,” Thea responded, now resigned to her situation.
“You seemed to be talking to our hostess for a while. What were you discussing?” Rob asked.
“I enquired whether we could have help bringing the equipment and samples here. I’m assuming you would prefer not to leave anything valuable in the car overnight. Her husband will be back soon and can give you a lift so you can pick up what you need. You can store the equipment overnight in the storeroom next to the hotel.”
“That sounds good.” Rob grinned at her, fixing his eyes on her face. “Thanks for organising that. If you can translate for the husband, I can manage the rest.”
“Angeliki will have dinner ready when you get back. Do you want to shower first, assuming there is hot water?” Thea paused, looking uncertain before the level-headed part of her took over again. “I noticed there’s a hair dryer. I could have a go at drying some of the wet clothes.”
“Thanks,” Rob said with a broad grin. “I could get used to this.”
*********************************************
Darkness had fallen by the time Thea and Rob took their seats at the small table, set in a corner of the vestibule. The storm had eased to a rhythmic spattering of raindrops on the wide windows panes and squally gusts. The panoramic view was now obscured by black-ink darkness except for the light from a single fishing boat bravely venturing out into the vast expanse of sea. There was the smell of vanilla and wax from a burning tea-light candle, set in the middle of the table and creating a soft warm glow. A jumble of fresh flowers had been displayed on the table along with an assortment of appetisers: a plate of olives, glistening in an oily sheen, freshly cut bread and honey-coloured wine. It was obvious that their hostess Angeliki had gone to considerable trouble. As Thea cast her eye over the laid table registering the markers of intimacy, she felt a lurch in the pit of her stomach. Her skin was now bristling from static energy, the fine hairs stood on end. Was this a left-over from the storm or something about the presence of this man which disturbed her? Whatever it was, she quickly dismissed her anxiety.
It was for only one night, she told herself, and at least she couldn’t be ambushed by any unwanted phone calls.
“So, how did you get involved in finding Odysseus’ palace?” asked Rob, settling into his chair. “You seem pretty obsessive?” He was dressed in the fern-green fleece, half-zipped, he had worn earlier. The flickering candlelight danced on his face, accentuating the copper-blonde streaks of hair and the rugged creases of his skin. In the half-light, his eyes had become glassy and Thea noticed how the blue irises were flecked with hazel and the whiskers on his jaw grew not quite symmetrical.
“You’re not the first person to say that to me,” Thea replied, a memory shooting through her mind. A Sunday afternoon in London, when families or loving couples would be out strolling arm in arm on Hampstead Heath, enjoying the first touch of spring. A dappled light had filtered through the flat window onto her desk and the open books piled in front of her. And then a glance around the door and the stern expression on David’s face speaking of disapproval, before the door had slammed shut. Thea’s preoccupation, the search for a lost palace, had eroded their marriage and pulled them apart as surely as conducting an extra-marital affair. And yet in the early years together, that same academic drive and intellectual work had bound them together.
“It’s a long story,” Thea said, shrugging her shoulders to banish the memory. “I was always drawn to the story of Odysseus. I must have been a child of about nine years old, when my father first read it to me as a bedtime story.” Her face lit up at the memory and she took a sip of wine. “Perhaps it was my father’s story telling but the tales always fascinated me. The account of Odysseus’ travels with the semi-magical places and mythical creatures he encountered like the Cyclops, the snake-headed Scylla and the whirlpool Charybdis. He always struck me as the true leader of the Greeks rather than Agamemnon.” As she spoke more animatedly, she noticed how her skin had reddened under the influence of the wine. No doubt blotches had appeared on her throat and chest and without thinking, she lightly caressed the inflamed skin with her fingers. Rob reached towards her and carefully replenished her wine glass.
“So when Richard asked me to join the project,” Thea continued, omitting Mark’s role in convincing her, “naturally I said “yes”. It was the opportunity of a lifetime.” She looked up at him, smiling lamely and noticed he had been listening to her attentively.
“And is there anything you particularly admire about Odysseus?”
Thea hesitated, looking down for the moment, gathering her thoughts. “His shrewdness,” she replied finally, feeling herself unravelling like flower petals in the sunlight. “His capacity to apply his human intelligence, no matter what the circumstances. For that he is my archetypal perfect man,” she said, speaking unreservedly. The wine was loosening her tongue. “You could say I’m a little bit infatuated.” The blush spread from her neck to her face, as the heat of the alcohol rose up in her body.
Thea glanced across at Rob. His eyes, bright and intelligent, were fastened on her face. The connection with this man sitting opposite struck her again. Thea popped an olive in her mouth, tasting the bitter flesh, as she tried to fathom where they had met before.
Had Richard introduced them at some point in the past? Thea wondered, but nothing readily came to mind.
“So what about you?” Thea asked, shifting the conversation from herself, still puzzled by the sense of familiarity. “How did you get involved with the Odysseus Project?”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “To be honest,” said Rob, his fork poised over his plate, “I don’t quite understand it myself.” He turned his face upwards towards Thea wearing the same puzzled exp
ression from earlier that day. “I’ve known Richard from my undergraduate days, so when he approached me and explained the work, I felt drawn to come.” He paused to take a mouthful of food, before continuing. “Our work is at quite a critical stage, so it makes no logical sense for me to be here.”
“You work in the Antarctic?” Thea asked, her curiosity aroused, recalling Richard mentioning this fact. “What do you do down there?”
“I’m one of the geo-physicists at the Halley Research Centre,” Rob answered modestly without any conceit. “Myself and the team study climate change and its impact on the polar ice-caps and weather systems.” His words did not betray his eminence Mark had enlightened her of.
“That must be interesting. And worthy too,” she added.
A broad grin broke across Rob’s face. “The pole is certainly a very magical place, the last wilderness on earth. In the winter the sun never sets and in summer it never rises.” There was a faraway look on his face, as if recalling an absent lover. “And we suffer severe weather,” Rob continued. “Blizzards that can keep us trapped inside for days until a window in the weather opens. Then we work day and night to collect samples from the field.” A gust of wind suddenly rattled the pane and a door slammed shut deep inside the building. “It’s very methodical work,” he said, his face lighting up with enthusiasm, “not glamorous,” but his expression spoke otherwise.
“So I guess today’s storm was a stroll in the park.”
“You could say that.”
Thea glanced at Rob with renewed respect. For a man living at the extremes of nature and prominent in his field, he rather understated his feats and accomplishments.
“Have you always worked there?”
Rob poured out more wine for them both, a droplet of wine dampening the table-cloth. “Since I got my doctorate, I’ve spent six months each year down there. It can get pretty cramped at times, but we stay connected to the outside world through satellite. And of course it gives me lot of time to computer model things and write academic papers.” He looked up, measuring her response as if expecting her to censure him.