Greek Island Escape

by Patricia Wilson

  Megan threw her arms around her mother’s neck.

  ‘Mum, I’m sorry, really sorry. I didn’t realise how worried you were. I thought you didn’t care. I thought—’

  ‘Megan, please, please never run away from me again. Whatever happened to make you leave home, we can tackle it together. Do you understand me, Megan? Was it me? Did I do something to push you away?’

  ‘No! No – it was me. My mistakes, my messes and . . . Oh, Mum, I’ve been so stupid, so self-centred and thoughtless. Can you forgive me?’

  ‘I’m so relieved to have found you at last, Megan. There’s nothing, nothing to forgive, but I do need to understand.’

  In her excitement, she had barely noticed the two young men behind Megan, until they began to drift away, and one said gently to Megan, ‘I guess we’re not searching for your granny today then?’

  Zoë lowered her head. ‘Darling, listen, I have to tell you something.’ She struggled, grief filling her up and making it impossible to speak for a second. ‘Granny Anna – Mama – passed away a little while ago. She had cancer – that’s why she left London. She didn’t want me to stop searching for you, in order to look after her. Your poor grandmother had battled with her illness for some time, but kept it to herself.’

  As she told Megan, Zoë felt she had been given permission to grieve for her mother, now that she had found her daughter. How she wished Mama was with them to see this day. She glanced up at the sky, and as her sadness grew, she felt Megan’s arms tight about her.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mum. I’m going to miss her.’ Megan was crying again. ‘I came here to look after her. Josh said she’d been poorly. I thought Granny Anna would help me get back on track, too.’ She stared at her feet. ‘You see, Mum, I sort of lost my way for a while.’

  *

  Zoë slept in Megan’s room, where there were twin beds. She spent a large part of the night propped on her elbow, gazing at her daughter. Occasionally, she felt a twist of anger at the girl who had given her so much grief. If Megan hadn’t run away, would she and Frank still be together? Would she and Josh not have lost their footing for a while? Though their relationship was strong once again, Zoë had learned some painful, and important, lessons. She reminded herself, although it seemed like an eternity of turmoil, it had only been seven months. Megan had just been a kid then, but clearly, she had matured a great deal while learning to stand on her own two feet.

  Zoë knew she could never rectify the upheaval that had gone on between them all, or bring Emily back – no matter how hard she tried – but they could put the chaos and heartbreak behind them and move forward with lessons learned. Their future was as yet unwritten. Tomorrow they could all start afresh.

  CHAPTER 33

  SOFIA

  Korydallos Prison, Athens, 1972.

  THE WORST STORM EVER RECORDED continued to rage. Day or night, we could not escape the deafening roar of the wind.

  My contractions were every five minutes. The fiercest cramp I’d ever experienced multiplied by ten, but just when I feared I couldn’t take any more, they would subside. I walked up and down the ward, and leaned against the wall as I felt the next pain building.

  ‘I can’t take much more, Thina,’ I said when the contractions were coming three minutes apart. ‘I just want it all to stop.’

  ‘You can’t guess how many times I’ve heard that said.’ She smiled encouragingly. ‘You’re doing great, Sofia. Not much longer now. Just remember, every single person on earth arrived in this same way. You’ll be fine, and it will get easier when you start to push baby out.’

  ‘Anna’s out for the count,’ Honey said, appearing from behind the screen. ‘What do you want me to do next?’

  She primped her hair and stroked the bib of her nurse’s apron, pleased to be helping Thina with the deliveries. She had four grown boys herself, all of whom had escaped to Crete, where she hoped they would keep a low profile.

  I sensed a change in my next contraction. As the pain became unbearable, I squatted down with my forehead against the wall. When it was over, Thina and Honey helped me onto the examination table.

  ‘I can’t take much more,’ I whispered.

  ‘Of course you can, you’re doing fine, Sofia,’ Thina said.

  I balled my fists, seriously wanting to throw a punch her way.

  Thina examined me and turned to Honey. ‘Sofia’s fully dilated. She’ll want to push with the next one. Just nip next door to make sure the patients don’t need anything. I can’t be in three places at once.’

  Honey scurried out of the ward. She returned red-faced and excited.

  ‘Markos is in there! He wants to know how Sofia is. Can he come in?’

  Markos!

  ‘Not now,’ Thina said. ‘It’s not as if he can help with those smashed hands, and the fewer people in here the better. Go back and tell him we’ll call him in when it’s time, but reassure him everything’s perfectly normal.’

  Thina turned to me and put her stethoscope to my belly.

  ‘You’re doing great. Good strong heartbeat.’ She nodded towards the fabric screen that stood between the only two beds. ‘I’m going to increase Anna’s medication, keep her asleep and give her another shot to induce her contractions.’ She glanced at my exposed belly. ‘Try not to push yet.’

  I had made the hardest decision of my life: to let our baby go to Anna and escape this hellish place. To say my heart was in splinters was an understatement. My baby was a part of my body, my life. The infant that represented the union of Markos and myself. It seemed obscene to give this embodiment of our love to another woman, and to the evil monster who kept us imprisoned here. The depth of my grief was absolute, and yet I knew it was the right thing to do. I had yet to share this decision with Markos.

  If our lives were over, ruined, at least our child could live and flourish. At least he or she could grow up in peace and safety. I had no idea what Markos would think, though he had left me no choice. My body tingled with the onset of another contraction and as it built, the urge to push was almost overwhelming.

  ‘Pant,’ Honey instructed.

  I felt like my middle was a wet towel being wrung out and twisted against itself. I panted against my hand, trying not to cry out. From behind the screen, on the verge of losing control, I heard the door bang open, and then an officer’s voice boomed into the ward.

  ‘Colonel Despotakis wants a report on his wife’s condition.’

  I bit my lip, drawing my knees towards my chest, desperately, desperately wanting to push.

  ‘Look for yourself – she’s sleeping peacefully,’ Thina replied. ‘Tell the colonel there’s nothing to worry about. We’re taking good care of her. There will be a nurse at her bedside all night.’

  I heard the door close as my contraction faded. Sweat greased my brow. Exhausted, I could not take another contraction.

  ‘You’re doing well, nearly there,’ Thina said matter-of-factly, placing my foot against her shoulder and leaning towards me. ‘Come on now, take some deep breaths – it’s time to start pushing this baby out.’

  *

  ‘Here it comes, Sofia,’ Thina whispered. ‘One big push now.’ She turned to Honey. ‘Go and get Markos, quickly!’

  I pushed with everything I had, from my neck down, and from the soles of my feet up. I clenched my teeth and felt the sinews in my neck strain, as every molecule of strength in my body went into forcing our baby out.

  ‘Well done, Sofia. Now, breathe. Open your eyes and say hello to your child.’

  I lifted my head and looked down between my legs. There was my baby’s head, slippery, black-haired, eyes scrunched and seconds away from birth. Oh, the joy that filled me in that moment was beyond description. The aching and exhaustion that had built over the last hours disappeared. Too tired to laugh or cry, I was simply filled with wonder. Then I realised Markos was beside the bed, staring at his child. Clearly, he had a broken nose, and I wondered if he had done it to himself in order to get into the
hospital at this important time. He dragged the beret from his head and twisted it in his fists. As the cramps across my middle intensified again, he took my hand and watched his baby being born.

  ‘Another push, Sofia,’ Thina said. ‘Here she comes.’

  And in one swift motion, as the contraction climaxed, she lifted our baby.

  ‘A little girl,’ Markos whispered. ‘Zoë,’ he said. ‘Life. She has life.’

  In a flash, Thina cleared out the baby’s airway and she cried, a sound that made my body contract again. Thina tied the umbilical and placed our baby on my chest.

  ‘Darling, Markos . . . say hello to your daughter.’

  Tears filled his eyes.

  ‘I’ll clean her up in a minute,’ Thina said. ‘Just relax, Sofia, and concentrate on the infant while we finish our work down below.’

  Markos replaced his beret, reached over and touched the baby’s cheek with his shattered fingers.

  ‘I wish you a big life and freedom, my baby,’ he whispered. ‘You have life, and I swear to fight with mine to give you the freedom that you deserve.’

  As he spoke those heartfelt words, life and freedom, I knew he would never renounce his struggle for the Greek people. With his own child in the world, how could he stop fighting to make it a better place? He would be a champion for his daughter, and his determination to fight for liberty in his beloved country was only going to increase.

  Honey came around the screen and smiled at the baby before she said, ‘Anna’s contracting, and she’s coming to. Are we ready to make the swap?’

  No! No!

  I wanted to stop the world turning. I had to hold my precious little girl a while longer.

  ‘What do you mean, the swap?’ Markos asked.

  I hadn’t realised I was crying until I tried to speak.

  ‘It’s our only option, Markos. Anna’s baby is dead. We can swap the children – no one will ever know. It’s our only chance to give our baby the freedom, Eleftheria, that she deserves. She didn’t ask to be born into this hellhole, and we have no right to keep her here, my darling.’

  Markos’s face showed his heartbreak. ‘You mean my child will go to a junta officer? No! No!’ His head dropped into his hands and his shoulders shuddered. ‘This has to be the worst torture . . . I can take anything but this – I won’t allow it!’

  ‘But my love, don’t you see? I have kept my pregnancy hidden, but how could I hide a child? They will torture me to make me say who the father is and then they will torture our baby in front of you, to get you to sign. God, Markos, can you imagine? It’s our only way to know she’s safe.’

  His hands were over his face, hiding his tears. Then, as if he realised he hadn’t long to see his daughter, he took our naked little baby from me and held her gently to his chest. She opened her eyes and gazed curiously into his face. Markos stroked her cheek, brushed her cherub lips with his little finger. She latched on and sucked, her eyes never leaving his. The moment was too beautiful to bear.

  ‘She looks like my baby brother who never received a name,’ he whispered. ‘We must name her now.’

  ‘You’ve already done that, Markos,’ I said. ‘Life and Freedom. Zoë Eleftheria.’

  We both wiped our tears away.

  As our baby peered into Markos’s eyes, he blessed her.

  ‘Zoë Eleftheria, I wish you a long and happy life. May you have your mother’s courage and your father’s strength. May you find peace, and love, and good health. May you never know the sorrow of war, and may your children live in contentment and one day learn of their grandparents’ great sacrifice.’

  He kissed her forehead and then kissed mine.

  Thina broke the moment. ‘Keep hold of her until the time we have to make the swap – but then you must hand her over immediately. Do you agree to do that, Sofia? There’s no going back now.’

  My heart was in bits. I’d lost my family, everyone from my past, and now they were going to take away my child, my future.

  ‘Sofia, we’re all risking our lives for your baby’s freedom. I need your word, now!’

  ‘Markos,’ I murmured. Tears raged down my face. ‘It’s the right thing to do. If we love her enough, we must set her free, give her the chance of a good life in the free world.’

  ‘To a junta officer? To the very people that have caused us so much pain? The ones that take me to the brink of death over and over, and just when I’m on the steps of Heaven, bring me back to this hell?’

  ‘It’s the greatest gift we can give her, Markos. Freedom! Life! Isn’t that what you’ve been fighting for?’ The more I tried to convince him, the stronger became my own conviction that this was the right thing to do. ‘Now’s not the time to be selfish. Our sacrifice is for her. Whoever she is with, wherever she lives, will not alter the fact she’s our child.’

  While I said all these things, the tears flowed hard down my cheeks. This was my child, our child, our little Zoë Eleftheria.

  I nodded at Thina, then turned to Markos. He breathed in hard, then nodded.

  We both knew this was the best recourse for our child.

  Markos leaned over the bed and put his forehead against mine; his tears and mine mingled in my eyes and then streamed into my hair. We had no use for words. He rested a mangled hand on the wondrous infant that snuggled against my breast.

  *

  While we held our child, Markos and I listened to the sounds coming from the other side of the screen.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Anna Despotakis mumbled.

  ‘You’ve gone into rapid labour, Anna. Everything’s in order, don’t worry. I’m going to put a surgical screen up, below your chest. I don’t want you to get anxious about anything that’s happening down below. It’s a new way to help the mother in childbirth. You just concentrate on pushing when I say so.’

  ‘Please don’t let me have another stillbirth. Please, I’d rather die.’

  ‘Your baby is fine. She’ll have life, don’t worry. In fact, isn’t that the perfect name? If it’s a girl, why don’t you call her Zoë, or perhaps Eleftheria? Life and Freedom. They’re two beautiful names. Now I come to think of it, isn’t that what you were mumbling in your sleep half the night? Zoë Eleftheria.’

  ‘I was? They are beautiful names, aren’t they? I’ll see what my husband thinks. If it’s a boy, he’ll be named after my father-in-law, of course.’

  ‘Zoë Eleftheria,’ Honey repeated, with a smile. ‘What perfect names, Anna. I heard you saying them in your sleep, too. Just keep repeating them as your little one comes into the world.’

  *

  I lay on the hospital bed with Markos in the chair beside me. Before dawn, my newborn baby girl would be taken away. My eyes fell on the man I loved more than life itself. He had our daughter in his arms, holding her clumsily, his broken fingers sticking out awkwardly. Grief shredded every part of me.

  Markos placed Zoë back on my chest. With her eyes closed, she opened her little mouth like a baby bird, searching for a nipple to latch onto. Filled with the magic of new life, sparkling hope, and the proof of new beginnings, I gazed at our baby. She was everything good and lovely in this hate-filled place. It was impossible to gaze into the face of our tiny infant without feeling a rush of joyful emotion.

  ‘Darling, Markos,’ I whispered, searching for the right words to say to this man that I had seen so little of for the past nine months, while his child turned and kicked and grew in my belly.

  When we arrived at Korydallos, he had still been unbearably handsome. Now, the scars of his constant wounding were ripe and swollen. And yet he was still beautiful to me. I could see there was no sweeter moment on earth than the one in which a grown man melts after meeting his child for the first time.

  ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ I whispered, the knot in my throat making every word painful. ‘She looks like you, Markos. There’s no mistaking she’s your daughter, is there?’

  Markos nodded and I saw his tears still wet between the scars on
his face. Recently, they had wrapped him in barbed wire again, his screams a warning to other dissidents: renounce communism now or this fate will befall you too. They had smashed the fingers that held his baby girl so tenderly. And yet beneath it all, I saw his smile, his eyes, his tenderness, his courage, all shining down on the infant that he placed in my arms. Our baby girl, Zoë, born in the Athens prison of Korydallos, on 1 November 1972.

  At that moment, Thina appeared and gently took baby Zoë from my arms. I gasped and panted to prevent myself crying out Stop! Markos put his head against mine, and we wrapped our arms around each other.

  ‘Oh, God help us,’ I whispered, my body trembling with silent sobs.

  *

  Drained and aching, I slept like a corpse and woke hours later. Thina and Honey had managed to wheel my bed into the opposite corner, and I woke to find the screen around me. Markos was back with the male patients.

  I heard a man’s voice, then a baby’s cry. My womb contracted so violently with that sound that I gasped, then pressed my hand across my mouth to stop myself crying out.

  ‘What’s going on behind the screen?’ I heard Colonel Despotakis say. ‘I told you I wanted my wife to be alone.’

  I shifted so that I could see him through a narrow slit between the fabric and the frame. Dark hair, but pale skin like he never saw daylight.

  As he came towards me, Thina said, ‘It’s Sofia, the nurse who’s been with your wife for eighteen hours, sir. She’s devoted herself to giving Mrs Despotakis and baby Zoë the best possible attention, and refuses to leave her alone for a moment.’

  He stepped around the screen and seemed to be studying me. I kept still, seeing him only as a blur under my lowered lashes. After a moment, he seemed satisfied and nodded.

  ‘Baby Zoë?’ He turned to Thina. ‘When was this decided?’

  ‘Ah, sorry, sir. It’s a nickname that seems to have stuck. Mrs Despotakis kept saying Zoë and Eleftheria while she was in labour. I guess after the last two births, it was the only thing on her mind – that she gave birth to a child with life and freedom. Anyway, the names seem to have stuck. They are beautiful, like your daughter, don’t you think, sir?’