by Nadia Marks
‘What it means, Mother, is that Anastasia has a mind of her own,’ Panos said, exasperated, ‘and we shall get to know each other better, unlike most girls around here . . .’
Meetings in cafes with friends as chaperones, with Lambros and sometimes Orhan too, walks and excursions in the countryside, and meals with both their families, soon led the way towards the blossoming of a friendship between Anastasia and Panos.
The young man was the proud owner of a green Ford Anglia automobile which he shared with his father, a rare sight in Nicosia at a time when it was still common to see a horse and cart on the roads. Piling into Panos’s small car for trips to the neighbouring countryside, and sometimes even as far as the foothills of the Troodos Mountains, caused great excitement for them all. Anastasia was enjoying this new friendship, and she soon decided that if she was going to marry anyone, Panos wouldn’t be a bad choice. She was getting her wish; she was going to live her life with a man she had come to know and like. A man who, like Orhan, was fast becoming a good friend. Panos didn’t make her heart race in the way she had heard Victoria describe when Dino was near, or as she had gathered from movies and romantic novels, but then again, she didn’t greatly value that. Love wasn’t lust as far as she was concerned – not that she knew much about lust and its mysterious ways; that would come later, she thought. Love, Anastasia insisted, was a meeting of minds: having fun with someone who respected you and made you laugh. Panos had it all. She loved his company, she loved his character and loved being with him – therefore she loved him.
‘I told you it was only a matter of time,’ Penelope told her sister-in-law. ‘The girl has a mind of her own and she was going to do it her way.’
‘I’m glad you thought so, because I was prepared for her to end up as an old maid with that mind of hers,’ Maroula sighed.
Everyone in the family, with the exception of poor Orhan of course, was delighted with Anastasia’s choice. Even though he understood in his head that he and Anastasia could never be a couple, his heart still clung to a wild fantasy that somehow they could continue living their life together as the ‘old married couple’, to borrow her words. But, he was obliged to concede to himself, if Anastasia was actually going to marry someone, it might as well be Panos.
‘I want your opinion,’ she had said to him before she made her final decision. ‘Your opinion always counts, and I want you to tell me in all honesty what you think of Panos.’
‘He is a Greek, he’s a Christian and he is a good man,’ was Orhan’s reply, which he gave to her in all honesty, even though the lump which rose in his throat made it hard for him to speak the words. ‘I think you are making the right choice,’ he finally added, and hoped she would never ask his opinion on the matter again.
The one other person with whom Anastasia discussed her decision to accept Panos’s marriage proposal was Victoria, who herself had taken the plunge and had given Dino a sign of how she felt. They were now secretly seeing each other.
‘Apart from Orhan, I have never liked a man as much as Panos. Well . . . perhaps one or two others,’ she told Victoria, laughing, ‘but not as much!’
‘That is a very good sign and I’m so happy for you, Anastasia mou,’ Victoria replied. ‘I was really worried that you were set against marriage.’
‘Only because I didn’t want to marry someone I didn’t know.’
‘I didn’t know Dino, but I knew he was for me the minute I saw him!’ The girl’s eyes sparkled with the memory.
‘You were lucky,’ Anastasia said. ‘It doesn’t happen to everyone.’
‘It was like, you know what they say, it was like a thunderbolt! I felt the blood rush to my head.’
‘Well, I can’t say that’s what happened to me when I first saw Panos,’ Anastasia giggled. ‘The blood didn’t rush to my head . . . but I did like his suit,’ she said again and erupted into laughter. ‘But seriously,’ she reflected, ‘he is a good man and he always makes me laugh.’
‘Laughter is good,’ Victoria said and picked up some mother-of-pearl buttons for a blouse she was working on. ‘Dino makes me laugh too, as well as tremble.’
‘To be honest,’ Anastasia replied, looking up from her work, ‘no one has ever made me tremble. Orhan is the only boy I have ever really cared for . . . I sometimes think I could easily marry him if he wasn’t a Turk, we are so well suited, I feel so good when I am with him, but neither he nor Panos has ever made me tremble . . .’
‘Well, they do say that sometimes you can fall in love after marriage,’ Victoria said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. ‘Apparently that feeling can come after the wedding! Obviously you are not going to marry Orhan, no matter how well he makes you feel, but you never know, Panos might make you tremble yet!’
The family were all agreed that Anastasia and Panos would make a good match, including Lambros, who approved of his sister’s choice for a brother-in-law. Even Panos’s parents approved, despite Kyria Froso’s desire that her one and only son should have chosen a bride from the more aristocratic circles in Nicosia.
Once everything was agreed between the two families, the engagement ceremony was arranged swiftly. Amid much anticipation and jubilation, Hatiche Hanoum arrived with Leila a few days before the ceremony, which was held on a Sunday afternoon in late February, just a couple of weeks after Anastasia’s twenty-first birthday. Their local priest was summoned for the religious ritual, which was to take place at the Constandinous’ house, for the blessing of the couple and the exchange of rings, which would each be placed on the third finger of the other’s left hand. The so-called aravones, simple bands of gold symbolizing the couple’s pledge to each other, would remain there until the wedding ceremony, when the rings would be moved to the third finger of the right hand, thus sealing their union forever. A small group of friends and relatives were gathered for the occasion together with Victoria, who was chosen as the maid of honour and who would then become Anastasia’s first goumera at the wedding ceremony, while Lambros was chosen by Panos to be his first goumbaros. Orhan did his best to hide his sorrow; having his mother and sister there gave him some comfort and he started to consider that once his studies were complete, he should perhaps return to the village. He had hoped to find work in Nicosia but the idea of seeing his love with another man was too painful to contemplate.
Anastasia was in favour of a long engagement and wanted the wedding to take place in the summer of the following year, but her mother and aunt vehemently disagreed.
‘Why would you want to wait so long?’ Maroula and Penelope asked with surprise. ‘What benefit can a long engagement have?’
It was typical of the girl, they both thought, to continue to be difficult. But Anastasia had her reasons.
‘I just want to enjoy myself, before I start to have babies,’ she replied, knowing well enough that women were usually with child within a few months of their wedding. ‘Also,’ she added, ‘we’re still getting to know each other.’
‘How much more do you need to know each other?’ her aunt demanded.
‘You’ve known Panos for three months – isn’t that long enough?’ said her mother.
‘We shall get to know each other even better now we are engaged,’ she continued, facing her mother and aunt and ignoring their questions. Anastasia knew that in the eyes of the world a betrothal meant that a couple were permitted to spend time together without a chaperone. Her wish to postpone the wedding for a while was in order to give her and Panos the opportunity to spend some time alone and be able to sample the fruits of sensuality, of which, despite all her modern ways and ideas, she had no experience. A betrothal was like a trial marriage, but full intercourse should take place only after marriage, thus postponing motherhood for a little longer.
Panos’s family house was as substantial as the Constandinous’, if not more so, and since Anastasia’s house was far too busy to give them any privacy, they started to spend time together there on a regular basis. Although Kyria Froso found it painful t
o hand her precious boy over to another, she knew the only normal and decent thing to do after the engagement was to allow the couple time alone.
Panos was gentle, considerate and loving and found Anastasia irresistible, yet took his time in the way of his lovemaking. Anastasia was open, curious and eager to learn and absorb everything that her fiancé had to give her. Physical contact was pleasurable to her, but even more than that she loved everything else that Panos could offer, aside from his kisses and caresses. The wall-to-wall library of books in his study held works that the young woman had never imagined existed. Poetry, history, geography, novels. Panos would spend hours leafing through art books with her, introducing her to the paintings of Picasso, Matisse or Rembrandt, and together they would pore over maps of countries she’d never even heard of.
‘After we’re married we can go here . . .’ Panos closed his eyes and arbitrarily pointed to an exotic place in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. ‘Or here, now this terrible war is over,’ he said again, pointing to Paris, Vienna and Rome.
‘Athens!’ she said with excitement. ‘Can you take me to Athens? Show me all the places you know?’
‘Of course,’ Panos said and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.
Anastasia proved to be an adept student with an insatiable thirst for knowledge. She started to devour any novel that sparked an interest in her; the poems of Konstantinos Cavafy ignited her romantic and erotic curiosity. Above all, what she loved most about Panos was that in him she had found someone who allowed her the freedom to continue with her work and made no objections to her days at Kyria Thecla’s workshop, even if his mother had plenty to say about it.
‘Do you intend to allow your wife to work after you are married?’ she asked Panos, making no attempt to hide her contempt.
‘If that is her wish, why shouldn’t I?’ Panos replied.
‘Because after you marry she should stay at home and raise your children.’
‘But we have you, Mother, to help with that!’ Panos teased, knowing that his comment would infuriate his mother further and possibly silence her. ‘Besides, Maroula and Penelope are there to help with bringing up children, so don’t worry yourself too much about it,’ he concluded, putting an end to the discussion.
Even though she had become engaged to Panos, Anastasia’s plans for the future and the opening of a shop were still very much alive, and while Hatiche and Leila were visiting for the engagement she never ceased to discuss it with them. Mother and daughter had stayed on in Nicosia for several weeks, urged by their friends not to return to the village just yet.
‘After I’m married we can seriously think about starting to look for a shop in town,’ she told Leila. ‘Panos has promised to help us.’
Anastasia had started to take Leila to the workshop with her during her visit and as Kyria Thecla was always in need of extra hands she was grateful to have the Turkish girl helping out.
‘Why go back to the village on your own?’ Maroula had said to Hatiche when the latter insisted that she needed to return home in order to work. ‘Stay a while longer with us, and since Leila is going to work with Anastasia you won’t be out of pocket. We all miss you, and look how happy Orhan is to have you here.’ Maroula’s wish was for her friend to give up the village altogether and come and live with them in Nicosia, but her powers to convince didn’t seem to work. Hatiche’s home was in the village. She was born and raised there and that’s where she and her beloved Hassan had brought up their children, had their workshop, had their life. She belonged in the mountains, not in the city, no matter how much she missed her friend.
‘Leila can come and live with you when the time is right, if the girls set up their business,’ Hatiche told Maroula and Anastasia, ‘but I am happy in the village, and if you can all come and visit me a little more often then I’ll be even happier.’
‘I have promised I’ll come and stay with you before I get married,’ Anastasia said, giving Hatiche a hug, ‘and you know I always keep my promises!’
‘Inşallah,’ Hatiche replied. ‘It won’t be long before the summer is here again and I shall be holding you to your promise, askim mou.’
11
August is the month when everything stops in Nicosia. The heat is unbearable, the commercial quarters of the city quickly empty of people and become deserted as a ghost town.
Those who can, try to escape to the cool of the mountains and one of those was Kyria Thecla, who traditionally closed her workshop for the two hottest months of the year, giving herself and her staff the whole of July and August on leave.
Panos was busy setting up his architectural office and had already been offered a few commissions, so Anastasia reflected that this was possibly the last summer she would be able to enjoy being alone with her beloved Hatiche and Leila. By the following summer she would be married and although that didn’t exclude visiting the village she knew that from then on her life would be different. Maroula was already dreaming and planning her summer escapes with Anastasia and the numerous grandchildren that she was certain her daughter would soon be providing for her.
‘Just imagine how peaceful it would be, you, me, and the babies up in the village with our friends away from this awful heat.’
‘I’m not even married yet, mother,’ Anastasia exhaled deeply, ‘and you’ve already got me with half a dozen children in tow!’ This, she reminded herself, was exactly one of the reasons why she wanted the long engagement.
There had been only one return visit to the village since they had all left and that was for Hassan’s funeral, so Anastasia was now excited to be having a prolonged period of time with her beloved friends under happier circumstances. She looked forward to talks with Hatiche Hanoum who would always listen and advise her without prejudice and judgement, unlike her own mother these days, plus she would spend time with Leila discussing their plans for the future.
‘Why don’t you come with me for a few weeks?’ she asked Victoria while discussing their summer break some days before they stopped work. ‘There’s plenty of space in Hatiche Hanoum’s house.’ Anastasia couldn’t think of anything better than to spend a couple of carefree months in the village of her birth, showing her friend around and reliving something of her childhood before adulthood took over her life completely. But Victoria had other expectations and plans for that summer; she hoped that her relationship with Dino might take a different turn and he might be brave enough to talk to his mother about getting engaged.
‘Well, let’s hope Dino summons up his courage,’ Anastasia smiled, ‘and when I come back we can look forward to another celebration!’
In her eagerness to get away, Anastasia started preparing for her summer trip weeks in advance. This time she would be going to the village alone: Lambros and Orhan were now too busy with their studies, and her mother and aunt were going to be helping with the bakery and the shop. This suited Anastasia fine, she was ready to have some time away from the entire family. Ever since her engagement to Panos, relationships seemed a little strained. Her mother and aunt were constantly giving her advice, her father and uncle were always busy and irritable, Panos was preoccupied with his new business, and Orhan was withdrawn and moody. Lambros seemed the only one who was himself but even he had his nose buried in books these days. The trip to the village couldn’t have come at a better time.
The drive to the mountains in Bambos’s bus was the most enjoyable she had experienced so far. Lambros and Orhan had walked Anastasia to the main square to pick up the bus early in the morning before the heat set in to make the walk with all her bags difficult.
‘Hello, missy!’ Bambos exclaimed, delighted to see Anastasia again as she climbed the stairs into his bus. ‘Aren’t they coming too?’ he asked, pointing with his chin at the boys, surprised to see her travelling alone. ‘Why aren’t your brothers coming with you?’ he carried on, his curiosity getting the better of him. ‘How come they send you off on your own?’
‘I’ve escaped at last!’ Anastasia replie
d, laughing, positioning herself in the front seat next to Bambos, so she could have a clear view of the landscape that would soon be unfolding in front of her. She looked out of the window at her brother and Orhan who were still standing on the road waving, and with a beaming smile she blew them both a kiss. At that moment as the bus rumbled away, her heart filled with joy and anticipation. This, she told herself as she settled into her seat, sliding under her feet the basket of food her mother and aunt had insisted she must take with her, this was going to be the jolliest of journeys and her best summer ever.
No sooner had they left the plains of Mesaoria and started the ascent towards the Troodos Mountains than Anastasia reached for the food basket and began tucking into fresh bread, olives and ripe tomatoes which she shared with Bambos. When she didn’t have a mouth full of food she sang along with the other passengers, a common habit among long-distance travellers to pass the time and fend off travel sickness.
On the way they picked up more passengers from small villages and towns, all greeted like long-lost friends. Anastasia, joining in with the rest, revelled in her sense of independence. Here she was, travelling alone for the first time in her life, heading up to her mountains and the forest, to her home, her people, to a place of childhood and innocence. She imagined herself running wild and carefree with Leila as they had done when they were girls, shrieking with delight. They would climb trees and run into ravines, collect flowers from the meadows and fall asleep under bowers of honeysuckle. Come nightfall they would sit in the square to watch the shadow theatre, and walking home afterwards they would marvel at the diamonds that filled the sky. The first time Anastasia had seen the night sky over Nicosia, she fancied that thieves had robbed the heavens.
All through the journey she daydreamed of how the summer would be, smiled with anticipation at the plans she was making in her head and could hardly wait to experience them. But nothing she had imagined while sitting on that bus that day was ever going to match the reality of what happened once she arrived.