The Flow

by Effrosyni Moschoudi

  Akis seemed frozen to the spot. His light-heartedness was gone. He shook his head, then began to wave his hands about. Both of them soon resorted to shouting out the odd sentence, and although not much of it reached the remote table, the body language was loud enough to betray that whatever they were discussing, it was an object of disagreement between them. It was evident that she was getting upset, but he seemed unwilling to do much about it.

  And then, Tracey jolted upright and rushed away from the bar, away from him. Akis shouted out her name only once and then just stood there, looking lost, as Tracey passed by the table of the three. Without acknowledging them, she kept running, disappearing down the promenade. In the few seconds it took her to approach the table and then rush past in a blur, they all sought her eyes. They were pooled with tears. The inevitable had happened. Even if Akis hadn’t broken her heart all this time, now it was official.

  Chapter 26

  The next morning, when Sofia walked into the bar at Karavi, all she had to do is take one look at Akis to know he wasn’t being himself. His smile was numb, his words few, and even the usual spring in his step as he rushed around had given its place to a shuffle that suggested he didn’t even want to be there.

  “What’s wrong, Cousin?”

  Akis shrugged and looked away. “Can’t stop thinking about Tracey, if you must know.”

  “What? You love her?” Sofia asked, feeling hopeful.

  “Don’t be daft,” he retorted. “If I loved her it’d be easy. She’d never have had to run away like a bat out of hell the way she did yesterday. You were there, didn’t you see?”

  “Yes, of course I saw. But it’s only what I saw. I don’t know what it was you two spoke about.”

  “Oh come on, Sofia. You and Loula have been on my case since last summer about my mistake with Tracey, okay? Point taken! I learned my lesson. Not all girls are for fun. I know that now. I will be careful from now on.”

  “Really?” piped up Loula, her brows arched. Up until now she’d been wiping washed glasses with a dishcloth and purposely not speaking.

  “Loula, just don’t. I am not in the mood.”

  “No, I’m serious. It’s good you’ve finally seen the light,” the girl said, putting out a sincere hand.

  “Right. I’m sorry. I’m a bit edgy.”

  “Why? What’s the matter?” asked Sofia. “She loves you and you don’t. I get it. You had to let her down. But don’t judge yourself too hard. As you said, you know now. Hopefully you won’t break another girl’s heart.”

  “Yes, it was hard. Boy, that was hard!” he repeated, shaking his head as he wiped the counter clean. “Sofia, I must have flirted with at least a hundred girls over the years and with dozens of them I’ve even had a bit of fun, if you know what I mean, but that kind of thing had never happened to me before. It was a wakeup call. It made me feel, well, like a beast in a way.”

  “And it serves you right!” spurted out Loula then. “I bet you will think twice next time before taking all girls lightly.”

  “Loula, stop! That’s not right!” Sofia scolded her. Before her, Akis chastised himself so much for his mistake that he didn’t even seem to have heard Loula’s words, let alone mind them.

  “Why? Look at what happened with you and Danny. You are Tracey in a way. What gives them the right, Sofia?”

  “No, it’s not the same. And can we please have this conversation another time? It’s not fair to scold Akis like that. You can see he is sorry. Don’t make him feel worse.”

  Loula took a look at Akis, who worked silently, his head hanging low, like an exhausted beast on the treadmill. A huge sense of guilt washed over her then. She pressed her lips together and cringed. “I am sorry, Akis. I was out of line.”

  “Doesn’t matter, Loula. Whatever you say, I deserve it in a way. I just hope I’ve heard the last of it. This girl is not all together, if you know what I mean.”

  “No, what do you mean? She is upset surely, but what else is she going to do? She’s hardly going to stalk you. Don’t worry, you’re not that much of a looker,” said Loula, rolling her eyes and trying to tease him to alleviate the mood.

  “No, you don’t understand,” he said, “I fear she might hurt herself.”

  Sofia snorted and issued an incredulous grin. “Now, you’re letting your imagination run away with you. This is nonsense! What on earth makes you say that?”

  “She said it in a way . . .” he mumbled, looking up from the counter, the dishcloth sodden in his hand, but he’d kept wiping the surface clean needlessly all this time, his mind turning round and round the same dreaded thought. It hadn’t let him catch any sleep last night. The same dread burned in his eyes when he raised them to stare into Sofia’s.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “Yes, Akis! What the hell?” asked Loula.

  Both girls were hanging from his lips now, but all he did is scratch his head and turn around. He reached under the far counter and drew out a crate of cans of lager. As he refilled the tall fridge beside it, he felt their eyes burning on his back and shook his head, but he never turned to face them. To talk about it would be like his fear were coming true. “Don’t mind me, I’m just being paranoid,” he said instead.

  ***

  An hour and a bit later, Loula was manning the bar when Jeff walked in with Sofia. The two of them had just had a cooling swim and Jeff was in a quiet mood, which wasn’t a big surprise, since this was his last day. Sofia often liked to say that there was only one thing wrong with holidaying in her village: no matter how great a time you have, it’s bound to end in tears. Over the years, she’d seen hundreds of young Brits crammed in big coaches on their way to the airport for their return flight home. So many of them, and not just the girls, had met her gaze through the glass as the coach set off, their eyes welled up with tears. Some were even clutching hankies and all, sobbing.

  Feeling the sadness of his impending departure rising inside him slowly, Jeff’s mood was quietening down by the minute that morning. Unwilling to sunbathe, and preferring the shade instead, he’d offered Sofia the chance to sit at the bar with Loula for a chat and a drink.

  “So, last day, Jeff,” said Loula as she handed him a pint of lager.

  “Oh no, don’t remind him! Makes it worse, don’t you see?” joked Sofia, after taking a few gulps from her fruit juice.

  Jeff didn’t speak; he only gave a faint smile and cast his glance at the open sea.

  “Come on, don’t be so down! There’s always next summer,” said Loula.

  “Ah, yes. The problem is the annoying eleven months in between,” he said matter-of-factly causing the girls to laugh.

  A few minutes later, Loula moved further down the bar to answer the call of a bunch of young Italian boys. They looked barely out of puberty. None of them spoke a word of English so they used hand gestures to communicate. As they flailed their arms about and pointed here and there with a volley of loud Italian, Loula hurried back and forth to fetch their orders of beer, soda, and crisps.

  During that time, Jeff turned to Sofia, his face serious. How about I buy you a drink tonight? Last night and all that.” He pinned his eyes on her with hope.

  “Sure, I’d love to.”

  Jeff grinned from ear to ear and tee-heed. “Excellent! Something else to look forward to before I leave. Shall we meet up early? How about a nice long stroll to Messi?”

  “No.” Sofia drained with the straw the last remnants of her drink. “I feel rather tired,” she lied.

  “Oh, never mind. It’s ‘The Parallels’ then? Like last time?”

  Sofia shrugged her shoulders. “Sure.”

  Out of the blue, Jeff leaned towards her, put a hand on the nape of her neck and planted a firm kiss on her cheek.

  A flicker of alarm fleeted past Sofia’s eyes. “What was that for?”

  “Nothing. Just wanted to do it, that’s all.”

  “You do realise this is my uncle and aunt’s place, right? Hanging
out with you here is one thing, but anything more than that and I could get in trouble. You know I avoid village gossip like the plague. You’re not helping.” Her tone was terse.

  Jeff cringed, then looked away. “I am sorry. I was just being friendly.”

  “Friendly is okay, Jeff. But I think we both know this is how it should stay.”

  He whipped his head around, an urgency in his expression. “But how can you say that? I thought we . . . I mean, after that kiss . . .”

  “No!” Sofia put up a hand. “That was a mistake. I want to be clear on that.”

  “Sofia, I know you liked that kiss too. I felt it.”

  “Look Jeff, I was caught in the moment. I was wrong. I am sorry to give you the wrong impression. I am sorry to say, it meant nothing for me.”

  “Be blunt, why don’t you?” he said, smiling wryly, then looking away.

  “There’s no point in gilding the pill, Jeff. I’d rather be fully honest with you than lead you on. I am only interested in your friendship. Take it or leave it.”

  For a few moments, Jeff stared at her aghast. When he finally regained his voice, it had lost its usual cheerful cadence. It sounded strained, as if it pained him to speak. “Sofia, I forget sometimes that English is not your first language. Your command of it never ceases to astound me. And yes, you’re so right. Better not gild the pill and all that,” he said, then tipped his head back, pint glass on his lips, to drain the last dregs noisily.

  Sofia watched him, saying nothing. Once he was done, he fixed her with a stare of confidence that seemed seriously out of place. “Right. I have been officially told. No problem. I’ll refrain from touching or kissing you again if that’s what you want. You can have a drink with me tonight without dreading the infamous village gossip!” He put an accent on the last two words with widened eyes, as if speaking of something spooky. It was his British way of laughing it off, to indicate he was all right with all that, but of course, the truth was that her words had stung. Yet, he refused to give up hope. Who knows what time will bring? After all, she’s coming to England.

  Sofia watched him as he shifted on his stool, pretending to marvel at the sea view. She was rummaging through her brain for something to say now, any trivial remark or question that could break this awkward silence, when she spotted two young police officers rushing through the entrance. The police? Here? That’s a first! Her mind drew a blank, but it wasn’t for long. The policemen, with nobody around except for Loula behind the bar looking like a staff member, walked straight up to her. At the time, she was making two tall glasses of chilled coffee for a young Greek couple.

  “Hello, miss. We’re looking for a man called Akis Aspiotis. We understand he works here.”

  Loula gawped at them for a few moments. “Yes . . . He is the son of the owners,” she finally managed.

  “Can you take us to him please?”

  Sofia bolted upright and went up to them. “Loula, carry on with your work; I’ll do it. Officers, please follow me.”

  Loula looked ashen. She didn’t even acknowledge Sofia’s intervention, but instead she stood, holding the coffee shaker like a dead weight in her hand, as she watched Sofia stride along the cemented patio to the kitchen with the two uniformed men. What the . . . ?

  Sofia stood by the kitchen door and gestured to the men to walk in. Mystified, she didn’t leave but stayed pinned to her spot.

  The policemen approached the broad bench where Akis and his parents were working, chopping vegetables, making mixes for biftekis, keftedes, and courgette and cheese fritters. From the oven, tantalising smells of roast meat delighted everyone’s sense of smell. When they saw the two officers walk in, Akis and his parents froze with curiosity and apprehension.

  From the threshold, Sofia kept watching as the policemen handed Akis a note, then said something that had him howling with distress. Soon, his parents were shouting, panic on their faces and in their voices, clutching at their chests, and putting their hands on their son, who simply stared at the note speechless, tears rolling down his cheeks.

  “She didn’t! She couldn’t have!” said Uncle Nikos waving his hands in front of the officers’ faces.

  “Are you sure? It could be another girl,” Aunt Leni spurted out, her face ashen like the sight of the flour she’d placed in the bowl before her for the cheese fritter mix.

  “I am sorry, madam,” said one of the officers. “We double checked with her travel agent and the hotel she’s booked in. Our onsite detective got a copy of her passport from the scene as well. The name of the deceased is Tracey Hatton. That is the name of the girl you know, isn’t it?” they asked, causing Akis to nod slowly, but his eyes never left the note, the note she had left for him, the note she’d written in her familiar, neat handwriting before killing herself in her hotel room with a sleeping pill overdose.

  “But how do you know this is about unrequited love? What does the damn note say, Son?” burst out Uncle Nikos, his worry and angst causing him to lose patience.

  “It’s addressed to me, and she’s making it quite clear why she did it. Let it go, Dad. This is not a mistake,” was Akis’s response in a wavering voice. He kept his eyes glued to the note.

  “Poor girl! And she was so young, so pretty,” said Aunt Leni, bringing a hand to cover her mouth, tears streaking down her face.

  “What does this mean for my son? He’s not in trouble, is he? Clearly, this is not his fault!” shouted Uncle Nikos, placing a protective hand on his son’s shoulder. His touch was firm and full of feeling. As Uncle Nikos squeezed his son’s shoulder, the lack of words said a lot. His touch told him it was going to be okay; that he was there for him.

  “No, definitely not in trouble, of course,” said the taller of the two officers. “We just need to take him in for questioning, that’s all.”

  “Take him in? For questioning?” said Aunt Leni, her face a mask of horror. “My son, arrested by the police?”

  “No, no, madam!” said the other officer, putting up both hands. “It’s nothing of the sort, I assure you. It’s just procedure. Your son’s part of the story will help us type up the record and put it to bed. That’s all. It’s a sad affair . . .” He shook his head.

  Aunt Leni sighed with relief, and Sofia did the same from the threshold. That was when the older woman noticed her niece standing there. As she put out a hand to rub her son’s back reassuringly, she issued Sofia with a thin smile of thanks.

  “So, I am not arrested,” said Akis, finally lifting his eyes from the note.

  “No, sir. But we do need you to come with us and give us your side of the story.”

  “Give me a minute.” He took off his apron and white cap, then shoved the note down the pocket of his knee-high shorts. Before anyone could say or ask him anything, he rushed to the door, brushed past Sofia and ran outside, disappearing down the promenade. With the sound of his mother’s wails ringing in Sofia’s ears, the image of Akis’s eyes caused dread in her heart as he sprinted past her. Those eyes carried far more guilt than she could ever think imaginable. Wherever he was going, they had to find him . . . as soon as possible.

  Chapter 27

  The next few hours unfolded like a bad dream. The police tried to locate Akis further down the beach, then at the main road, but to no avail. In the meantime, Sofia’s aunt and uncle had to appear collected as they explained to the patrons that Karavi was closing for the day due to a family emergency. Next, they were all in Uncle Nikos’s car, Jeff squeezed in the back seat between Loula and Sofia, heading for the house, in the hope they’d find Akis there.

  Having found no sign of him there either, they all scattered around, alerting everyone they knew, and that’s literally every local. Like in all villages, all kinds of news, especially the dramatic and upsetting variety, spread there like wildfire. Sofia and her friends went from door to door to find that the people seemed to already know about the dead girl, plus, in most cases, the police had already knocked on their door too to ask if they’d seen Akis
.

  It seemed they’d found his running away somewhat suspicious, but Sofia knew it was only his upset that had caused him to seek his solitude. Wherever he was, he was alone, and that’s obviously what he wanted.

  In the early afternoon, and after a short stop at a café to have a grilled toast and a coffee on the hoof, Sofia, Loula and Jeff were leaning against a fence at the village square. They had been up and down the main road numerous times, they had called on every village house on the hilltop, and they’d wandered around fields and even paced the whole seafront all the way to Messi and back. By now, they had run out of places to look. Sofia ran a hand through her hair and tried not to panic. Where has he gone?

  Loula placed a hand on her friend’s arm and squeezed gently. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Or maybe, he’ll turn up on his own.”

  “What a crazy way to spend my last day on the island!” piped up Jeff. As soon as he said it out of genuine amusement, he realised it must have come across as insensitive. He was about to open his mouth again and apologise when he noticed the girls were gazing back at him with sympathy.

  “Why don’t you go now, Jeff? You’ve done enough. Go have a swim and enjoy your last day, whatever’s left of it,” prompted Loula.

  “I agree. You should go, Jeff. It’s not fair on you. You poor thing,” said Sofia, patting his arm.

  “Are you kidding? And not find out what happened to your cousin? He may not be family to me, but he’s a nice bloke. I want to help!”

  “Are you sure?” asked Sofia.

  “Of course. And don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be home by nightfall. He just needs a few hours alone to digest the horrid news, that’s all. He seems like a sensible lad. He won’t let you and his parents worry much longer. Do you want to go to his house and wait? I dare say he’ll be there soon if he’s not there already.”

  “You think?” said Loula, hope colouring her cheeks.

  “Of course,” he said, and they all dashed to his front yard, new hope cradled in their hearts. The house was close by, in the same building as Sofia’s grandparents’ house, but the façade was on the other side.