The Gold Letter

by Lena Manta

  “Come on!” my uncle responded. “If he doubts what you say, there’s such a thing as DNA! A test can show what’s been hidden for forty years. But I believe you must go and see him.”

  We all returned to the house an hour later, and I was surprised to see Karim sitting on the entrance stairs, his anxiety written so clearly on his face that I felt ashamed. We had relaxed over drinks at Syntagma Square while he was suffering. To make it up to him, we all sat at the table and ate together. I wasn’t hungry, but I took care to empty my plate. Afterward, though, I shooed everyone out. I wanted to be alone. I needed the thoughts that silence brings.

  It was long after midnight, but despite the two drinks I’d had earlier with Paschalis and Melpo, there was no question of sleep. I didn’t even bother to go to my room. As soon as I was alone, I made a strong cup of coffee and went back to what was by now the familiar and loved space of the office to spend the hours until daybreak. I hoped the complete quiet would help me make my decisions. I opened the two windows wide and sat on the sill of one of them with my coffee and cigarettes. I looked at the apartment buildings that rose up around me. Some had light in the windows, some didn’t, and quite a few had completely closed shutters, indicating that their owners had probably headed off for some seashore to spend their holidays. My eyes fell on the deserted street.

  Suddenly, my heart skipped a few beats. I opened and closed my eyes several times, certain that my mind was playing tricks on me. Across the street, in a parked car, a driver was smoking in the semidarkness, faintly lit by the streetlamp. It couldn’t be him . . . There was no reason for his presence outside my house, when he should have been thousands of miles away.

  CHAPTER 17

  Munich, 2013

  With shaking hands and a voice she tried to keep steady, Fenia was reading the fairy tale to little Ino to put her to sleep, as she did every evening. The five-year-old girl, unaware of the drama about to strike their house, listened until her lids finally grew heavy and closed. The woman beside her left the book and turned out the light, having made sure the girl was well covered up. She didn’t hurry to leave the room. The child’s rhythmic breathing calmed her and helped her absorb what she had found out a little earlier but had not been able to take in.

  Yannos had called her into his office, and as soon as the door shut behind them, he almost collapsed in her arms. When he was finally able to explain, she felt the floor giving way under her feet.

  “It can’t be!” she’d whispered. “There must have been some mistake in the tests.”

  “If only,” he said, the tears running down his face. “There’s no doubt. Savina is doomed. The cancer has spread.”

  “But how? Out of the blue? There was nothing wrong with her!”

  “Unfortunately, my wife ignored some signs. If she had told me . . .”

  He didn’t continue, overcome by guilt. Despite being a doctor, he hadn’t noticed, hadn’t done anything in time. She touched him shyly on the shoulder, and this simple gesture brought them close. Arms around each other, they wept, full of pain and hopelessness.

  “Does she know?” Fenia asked.

  “Very little. I didn’t let my colleague tell her the whole truth.”

  “But won’t she find out? The treatments have side effects.”

  “We’ll start with radiation to shrink the tumors. Fenia, I won’t lie to you: all the doctors who’ve seen her say it’s useless. That we shouldn’t even put her through the treatments.”

  “But you can’t just let her die!” Fenia objected.

  “Of course not!” he burst out angrily, then softened. “But we must be prepared. I’ll do anything to prolong her life as much as I can.”

  They came out of his office knowing that, from that moment on, nothing would be the same.

  Savina Pantazis didn’t ask any questions, which Fenia knew was a sign that she understood but was going along with the game of secrecy her loved ones were playing. When Yannos told her in the most natural way he could manage that they’d have to start chemotherapy, Savina smiled calmly.

  “Whatever you think is best. Of course, we’ll have to adopt a new hairstyle!”

  The two people opposite her were expressionless while she smiled still more broadly.

  “Come on now, you two are looking at me like I’m a ghost! It’s hair: it’ll grow back.”

  But Fenia was there ten days after the first chemotherapy session when Savina went to comb her hair and a tuft of it came out in her hand. Her face froze, and her eyes stared at Fenia’s in the mirror.

  “It’s started . . . ,” she said tightly.

  “Yes,” Fenia agreed and then smiled at her. “Like you said: it’s hair, and it’ll grow back,” she went on with a coolness she didn’t feel. “Do you want me to comb it for you?”

  “Why? If you’re the one with the comb, will it be too shy to fall out? Leave it. I’ll get used to it.”

  Over the next few days, Savina had pulled almost all of her hair out, although it took no effort. Fenia was always there to take it from Savina’s hands, and she shuddered when she felt it between her fingers. A few days later, as soon as Yannos had left to take Ino to school and then to go on to the hospital where he worked, his wife shut herself in her room, and Fenia heard the sound of the electric razor. She bit her lip and stayed where she was until the door opened and Savina appeared with a scarf around her head.

  “It’s finished,” she said simply. “Let’s get on with it.”

  “What do you mean?” Fenia asked.

  “I don’t even know. The only thing I want is for this nightmare to end.”

  She marched past Fenia into the living room and settled down there with a book. But soon, Fenia could hear her sobs, loud and clear. She didn’t know what to do—whether to go to her or not. Her feet moved of their own accord, and she found herself kneeling in front of the grieving woman. Savina clung to her, hugging her in despair and continuing to cry until she finally calmed down and remained motionless in the comforting arms.

  “Thank you” was all she said.

  “Savina, I don’t just work here; I love you very much, and you know it,” Fenia told her gently. “So I have to tell you that you’re facing this situation all wrong. Stop being a heroine and trying to give us courage, instead of letting us do that for you. It’s time to weep about what’s happening to you, because if you don’t, you’ll find it ahead of you later.”

  “How much later, Fenia?” she asked, and the complaint in her voice was like a slap. “I don’t say anything, I play along, but I know and I understand. There won’t be any later for me.”

  “What are you saying?” Fenia tried to object, but Savina stopped her, putting a finger affectionately to her lips.

  “Don’t underestimate my intelligence. I agreed to the chemo for Yannos’s sake. So he won’t feel guilty that he didn’t try to save me or at least buy a little time. I found the results of my tests that he hid, and I read them. I know everything. Maybe in a little while I won’t be able to have this discussion with you, because from what I read, the metastasis has reached my brain. And now that we both know, I want you to listen carefully to me. I’m not afraid to die, but I won’t pretend I’m not sad to be dying so young. I’m especially sad for the child.”

  “Savina,” Fenia said, weeping and kneeling at her feet.

  “Fenia, listen to me! I’m sorry I’m leaving, but I’m at peace because you are here in their lives. I want you to swear to me that you’ll never leave them. That you’ll bring up my daughter as if she were your own. Swear!”

  “You know I will,” Fenia said, as steadily as her sobs would allow.

  “Thank you. And not a word to Yannos about this.”

  Savina leaned back and closed her eyes, tired from the effort. Fenia got up, then bent and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. What she really wanted to do was to bow to the greatness of a human soul.

  Time was Savina’s greatest enemy. Her brain betrayed her first. Her speech became
slower; she searched for words that were hidden inside her. Her exhaustion was more and more intense. The chemotherapy cycle ended, but the test results were not good. Savina now spent her time in bed; she seldom got up, and when she did, she needed help. It was impossible for her to stand by herself or to walk to the armchair two steps away. Fenia didn’t know who to help first in the house, and they each had different needs. Ino couldn’t understand what was happening. Sometimes her mother didn’t recognize her, and the child cried pitifully. Yannos tried to be brave for his wife’s sake, but he wept like a child in Fenia’s arms when they were alone. Savina demanded more and more of Fenia’s energy and soon needed care twenty-four hours a day. When Fenia herself was on the verge of collapse, Yannos realized how bad things had gotten and brought in another woman to help.

  The dawn of New Year’s Day 2014 found Fenia awake beside Savina, together with Yannos. Her condition had deteriorated a great deal, and the oxygen mask she wore seemed to bother her. Her chest rose and fell with effort, and each breath was agony for her, each exhalation a terrifying whistle. Yannos got up from the chair where his legs had fallen asleep.

  “I’m going to drink a little water,” he whispered as if he were in danger of disturbing the patient. “Do you want anything?”

  “Bring me some water too,” Fenia answered. “And make sure you eat something,” she added. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

  He nodded before he left the room, but Fenia knew he wouldn’t put a bite of food in his mouth. She turned again to the tired face and froze as she realized that Savina was watching her. A hand, thin as a branch, pushed aside the oxygen mask. A moment of clarity.

  “Where’s Yannos?” she asked.

  “He went to get some water. I’ll run and fetch him,” Fenia answered, jumping up.

  “No.” The woman stopped her. “Better that he doesn’t see me go. Just you. Remember what you promised. You’ll never leave them!”

  Fenia bent over her, and the two women exchanged a look full of love and understanding. Then Savina’s eyes closed, two more rough breaths, and with the third her soul slipped to where it would no longer suffer.

  Absolute silence spread over the room that had, until a short time before, been filled with pain and anguish. Fenia took Savina’s waxen fingers in her hands. Yannos found her in the same position a few minutes later. The glass of water fell and smashed to pieces on the floor. He ran to his wife, who had already begun her journey. Fenia moved aside and let him fall on his dead wife to weep.

  The period that followed was difficult for all of them. Fenia gave all her attention to the child, who kept asking for her mother. As was to be expected, she clung to Fenia with an insistence that was sometimes perturbing. At first, she didn’t even want to go to school for fear that Fenia might leave too. With patience and persistence, Fenia did what her conscience dictated, and slowly the child calmed down. But when she came home, she wouldn’t let Fenia out of her sight. Fenia decided to fill the afternoons with various activities, some of which took the child out of the house. She didn’t know if she was doing the right thing, and Yannos was in no condition to discuss it. He had chosen to fill the void left by the loss of his wife with endless hours of work. The house suffocated him. He looked around and saw Savina. He never set foot in their room but slept in the living room. Again, Fenia took the initiative. She put all his clothes in her room and slept in the couple’s bedroom, having rearranged it. The rare times that Yannos was at home, he shut himself in his office, but he needed her presence. She took a book and sat in an armchair without speaking unless he asked her to. Then Fenia told him about what was going on at home, and about his daughter. It comforted her that he listened attentively and sometimes suggested some solutions himself.

  After some months, a pleasant, calm routine was established; they all needed it. The good weather drove the snow, cold, and gloom far away. Ino felt more secure again and spent her afternoons happily with Fenia. The structured activities continued, and now the child was crazy about her art lessons, her ballet, and her sports team. Yannos seemed calmer, he worked less, and he began to accompany them on some spring walks in the city. Whoever had seen them from far away would have thought they were watching a happy family.

  The familiarity that had grown between Fenia and Yannos didn’t surprise either of them. It came naturally, without them seeking it. When Ino slept, they passed time with a game of chess or watched a film together, eating lots of popcorn that Fenia made. They loved comedies and exciting adventure films and shared a passion for miniseries. Their relationship had changed into one of companionship without them being aware of it.

  A high fever brought the change. Ino came home that afternoon from her art class and complained that her throat was sore. Later that evening, the thermometer climbed to 103, and Yannos called the pediatrician. The pills he’d given Ino to lower the fever hadn’t done much, and he suspected she would need antibiotics. The child was burning up all night, and neither of them left her side. Sitting in armchairs on either side of the bed, they held her hands and almost counted her breaths. Tiredness overcame them at one point. The girl was sleeping peacefully, and without realizing it, their heads dropped onto the mattress and they fell asleep. They jumped up nervously at the same moment because they had forgotten themselves, and their hands met on her forehead. It was almost cool. The tips of their fingers, though, seemed to have caught fire from that touch. They looked at each other and both knew there was no need for shame; despite that, they lowered their eyes like guilty people.

  Ino recovered very fast thanks to the antibiotics, and had no idea that the situation in the house had changed. Fenia pretended nothing was wrong, but when she was alone, she rebuked herself.

  It’s Yannos, you useless creature! she kept thinking. Yannos, who picked you up from the streets and offered you a home. Yannos and Savina! Do you remember Savina?

  She blushed every time she had to speak to him and avoided spending time with him in the evening, pretending she still had housework to do. She had the honesty to admit to herself that her feelings for the gentle, sensitive man had changed. Almost from the first moment, they’d had a special relationship, but the existence of Savina, and Fenia’s love for her, had obscured any other feelings for him. But that touch in the night on the forehead of the child she adored was the fuse for a great explosion.

  For his part, Yannos wondered what had happened to make him suddenly see Fenia in a different way. He had never thought of her as a housekeeper, nor as a nanny for his child. In his mind, she was always a good friend, and now even that wasn’t enough, and his guilt consumed him. He hardly dared to look at his wife’s photograph because of the shame he felt.

  By a common but unspoken decision, they both kept their distance, without suspecting that this was the best way to strengthen their feelings. The calm evenings with chess and movies stopped, and Yannos began to work long hours again, and returned exhausted but still unable to sleep. Mere yards separated him from the object of his obsession, sleeping unawares in the next room. He couldn’t know that she was also awake, counting her heartbeats in disbelief. She’d been sure romantic attraction was not for her. The way she’d experienced sex in her life, first by force and later for money, had made it a terrifying thing, evil. She felt repulsed by herself, by her own body that woke and desired, this time with the participation of her heart.

  One evening, when it was raining very hard, Yannos was late coming home. She put the child to sleep and shut her own door, feeling like a wild animal in a cage. She lay down and tried to lose herself in a book. She wanted a drink more than anything, but she knew it wouldn’t stop at one—she’d spend the night with her arms around a bottle because she couldn’t have what her arms really longed for. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when the noise of something breaking made her jump out of bed. She ran to the child’s room, but the little girl was sleeping deeply. The sound of Yannos’s voice came to her; he was cursing, and something else broke
with a crash. She raced downstairs and saw him in the living room searching in the little bar for a bottle of whiskey. The first one, which had woken her, was in pieces at his feet. She approached nervously; he never drank.

  “Yannos,” she said, and her voice came out in a whisper. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

  He turned and looked at her with bleary eyes. His breath smelled of alcohol.

  “I wanted . . . ,” he began to say to her but didn’t finish his sentence.

  Standing in front of him was the reason for every gulp he had consumed. With her hair untidy from sleep, and her body half-naked under a thin nightgown. The alcohol flowed inside him, all inhibitions had relaxed; he couldn’t even think. Besides, there were those eyes of hers . . . like melted gold. They haunted his nights, and now they were looking at him again, shining in the half-light. He didn’t know if it was the shadows that deceived him, but what he saw there gave him courage.

  He reached out his arms and pulled her to him, as she welcomed something she had never known in her life. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair, then squeezed his shoulders, and she didn’t object when she felt her nightgown being ripped away. With trembling hands she undid his shirt, tearing the buttons off in her own impatience. She felt his arms lifting her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he supported her against the wall. Without his lips leaving hers, he removed all the other impediments so he could lose himself in her body, finally finding hell and paradise together. Fenia felt that her body was about to be crushed between the wall and his strength. His arms gripped her tightly, and she felt herself being raised in the air. She clung to him until she felt her back sink into the soft couch. She arched back to take him deeper, like a flower trying to swallow a bee. She had never experienced anything like it. She realized that she had not lost her innocence until that night; only with Yannos had she known the true, magical dimension of love.