The Flow

by Effrosyni Moschoudi

  The three of them took the steps down and sat together on the shingle, looking out to the West Pier for a while.

  The first thing Sofia asked was about the murmuration of starlings that never seemed to distance itself from the Pier. The tiny birds seemed to form a cloud that permanently hovered over the derelict edifices, twisting and swirling back and forth as a single organism.

  “The starlings are a permanent feature of the Pier,” answered Danny. “There are so many of them, aren’t there?” He gave a chortle. “That’s why I said that if you were to feed the birds here you’d have a bit of a job on your hands.”

  Then, Danny pointed at the Concert Hall and the Pavilion, telling her all he knew about their grand past. Once again, as he’d done the previous summer in Vassilaki, he told her about the various features of the Pier in its heyday, like the professional divers, the motor track, the paddle steamer cruises, the arcade, the slot machines, the fortune tellers, and so much more. Also, he made sure to stress that it was WWII that had contributed greatly to the Pier’s initial damage and gradual decline.

  After the war, and over the passage of time, more parts of the Pier deteriorated or got destroyed by neglect and a series of storms. The severe storm they’d experienced just last year in November was one for the books, and it had brought even more devastation to the Pier.

  Sofia listened to Danny and wished she could have seen the Pier in the old days, even once, with her own eyes. As soon as she expressed that wish in her heart, an apparition, the same as two days before, materialised itself before her eyes again. It was the same vague shadow at the railing, the one that moved as if it were human, as if it had purpose. Eerie, it hovered by the railing, swinging to and fro, as if following the movement of the wash underneath, right by the Concert Hall. The vision caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end, and she gasped despite herself.

  “What is it?” asked the boys in unison.

  “There! There by the Concert Hall. Do you see it?” she asked, her voice pinched and wavering as she lifted one hand to point. The shadow was long and lithe, swirling and twisting. It looked like the outline of a woman with long hair clothed in a long dress that billowed in the wind. If she had to say it reminded her of one thing, she’d say it looked like The Lady from her dreams. But it was just a shape. A long, black shape. There was no face on it, but it seemed eerily human somehow. This is mad! What am I looking at? And why aren’t they saying anything?

  “I can’t see anything. What do you see?” said Steve, bewildered.

  “It’s a black shadow, a long black shadow. There, by the railing,” pointed Sofia again, but by now, she felt deflated. Her answer had come out uncertain this time. If anything, she was hoping she could take it all back. They’ll both think I’m crazy if I elaborate any further . . .

  “I don’t see anything either,” said Danny. “Unless you mean The Lady of the Pier?” He sniggered and winked at her playfully.

  Sofia knitted her brows. “Who?”

  “The Lady of the Pier. How long have you been here? Two days? And you’ve already heard the urban myth! I’ll give you that, you’re one clever girl. You nearly had me there for a minute!”

  Sofia rested her eyes upon the vastness of the sea, too afraid to glance at the Pier again, in case the shadow still waited for her there. The fact she could see it and others didn’t made her now even more mystified than before. Of course, she knew nothing of The Lady of the Pier. Whatever does he mean? What urban myth is he talking about? But the last thing she wanted to do is make the boys think she was some kind of weirdo that could see ghosts. Her silence was better. Danny had provided her with the perfect excuse. She might as well go for that. It had been a godsend. As for the urban myth, she’d have to ask around.

  ***

  Half an hour later, Danny made sounds about feeling peckish, while Steve announced he had an errand to run to give them the chance to be alone. After the two said goodbye to Steve, Danny led Sofia to a nearby café for a hot beverage and a snack.

  He sat at the tiny table across from her, then leaned back and let out a luxurious sigh as he rested his eyes upon her. He thought she was the most glorious sight he could ever hope for. “This is just amazing. I still can’t believe you’re here, Sofia.” He was smiling but only partly. The look in his eyes seemed rather serious.

  Sofia gave a nervous smile, never breaking his gaze. “I know, I am still quite incredulous myself.”

  A waitress turned up promptly, and they ordered tea and sandwiches. They both went for exactly the same thing— Earl Grey and a prawn cocktail sandwich—and Sofia found that hilarious for some reason. She giggled with mirth over it and didn’t elaborate, but secretly, it made her think of Annika and her fifty-question shortlist.

  While they waited for their order to arrive, Danny asked Sofia after everyone he knew back in Vassilaki, and even after her parents whom he’d never met. Sofia offered all the information but withheld only two things: Dora’s accident and Tracey’s return and suicide. This was such a perfect, long-awaited miracle of a day in her life, that it seemed impossible to mar it with even the slightest mention of upset.

  Steve had already told Danny that Loula was coming soon, and he seemed very excited about the prospect of the four of them together again.

  “Blimey, this girl can giggle! I really miss her,” he said tittering and Sofia joined him.

  “I think it’s great she’s moving here to start a new life with Steve,” Sofia said spontaneously.

  “And you? Why are you here, Sofia?” he asked then, taking her by surprise.

  “Why, for my studies of course! Art and Design. What else?” she said with a little smile, shrugging a single shoulder, then tossing a strand of hair behind it with a nervous flick of her wrist. His eyes bore into hers, but she looked quickly away. Is it something else he’s hoping to hear? And if this is so, does he even want to hear it? What a mystery you are, Danny!

  “Art and Design . . .” he said slowly then, allowing her to venture another look at him. A crooked grin played on his lips right then, taking her back to his delightful moods on the beach in Vassilaki. All that was missing from the picture was the straw hat on his head. But that’s back in Athens now, in that bag where you made me put it to avoid the pain . . . oh Danny!

  Rather than voice any of that, Sofia pretended his playful grin hadn’t triggered any thoughts or feelings at all. Instead, she summoned all her self-control to eye him impassively. Her head was screaming though, thoughts twirling madly in her mind. In their midst, sat a single hope: the hope there was something there, deep down, behind all the playfulness on his face, and that this time, somehow, he might do something about it.

  She looked outside the window at the passing crowds and as she twirled a hot-red curl among her fingertips, she spared a thought for what Steve had confessed to her about Danny back on Corfu. I wonder if he’s still seeing his therapist. Will he ever trust me?

  “What is it, Sofia? You seem miles away. Hope I didn’t bore you stiff, blathering on about the West Pier earlier?”

  “No, on the contrary, I loved it,” she replied, turning to face him again with a bright smile.

  “You know, I love your hair like that, longer I mean. The curls really suit you,” he said, looking at the curl between her fingers for a tad longer than was expected, as if mesmerised by the twirling motion of her fingers around the silky strands.

  Sofia wanted to share her mystification about the strange novelty in her hair, as it had only been this summer that it had started to curl on its edges like that. But in the end, she decided against it. “Thanks. I prefer it like that, too. Yours has grown as well. Not so spiky any more. You even have a long fringe now.” She tilted her head and smiled. “I like it.”

  “Yes,” he said, lifting the long fringe that reached his eyes to push it roughly backwards with one flat hand. It fell back down to reunite with his eyelids. He blinked frantically and blew at it with mock-annoyance, causing Sofia
to giggle. When he heard her crystal laughter, it reminded him of so many happy times on Corfu, and he tittered with pride, as if he’d managed something impossible. “I reserve my cool and sexy spiky look for my exotic escapades only,” he burst out then in his classic matter-of-fact manner that had caused her so much amusement the previous summer. “What you’re now experiencing is the boring old me back home, which is nothing short of a plonker to be honest,” he joked, flashing her his pearly whites, looking simply irresistible.

  Sofia’s heart skipped a beat or two and luckily that’s when the waitress came with their order, to save her from the intense look in his eyes.

  One hour later, they parted outside the café with the promise to meet again, next time with Loula. She was arriving the following day, and Steve was going to invite them to go out together after that. Sofia walked along the promenade on her way back to Grand Parade with the feeling of Danny’s goodbye kiss lingering on her cheek. Of course, she’d left it up to him about whether or not they were going to kiss and how, and he had opted to leave a single kiss on her cheek for goodbye. It had been a disappointment to her at first, thinking that maybe the fact he hadn’t kissed her on the lips was a bad sign.

  But now, as she kept walking, the blissful, fresh sea breeze caressing her face tenderly, the strong sunshine brightening her world, she thought it would be perhaps best not to think of any more signs, to just let things unfold without expecting anything. Just to go with the flow, and see what happens.

  When she opened the door to her room, she found Annika lying on her bed, listening to music from her Walkman. She looked spent from her morning spent outdoors.

  “Did you have a good time with your friends, Sofia?”

  “Yes, thank you. Did you have a good morning?”

  “Can’t complain. A long swim at the pool, then down to the park for a look around. This place is heaven. Which brings me to the next question: sea or mountain?”

  “Sea, Annika. Sea! You’re not one of those mountain enthusiasts now, are you?” she joked, taking it for a fact they didn’t agree on that score either. The dismay on her roommate’s face was unmistakable.

  “Dammit! I’ll get you next time,” groaned Annika and stuck the headphones back on her ears.

  Chapter 41

  1940

  “Oh, Maggie, thank you for coming! I can't bear to be in here on my own,” managed Laura with a soft sob. Her friend had just walked in to find her crying in the drawing room. Laura had called her just an hour earlier, to ask her to come sooner than her normal time.

  As soon as Maggie sat with her, Laura informed her that Freddie wasn’t at home. His father had taken him to Lakeview after breakfast, and they were going to be away all day till late in the evening. It was a decision he’d made on the spot after yet another row with her at the breakfast table. These days they could barely be in the same room without eyeing each other scornfully. They’d bicker over the smallest things, eager to release their growing frustration with yet another squabble.

  “So, what’s happened?” Did you and Charles have a quarrel?” Maggie’s face was animated with concern, and Laura found the touch of her hand on hers and the look of love in her eyes, a true balsam for her aching heart.

  “Yes, we did,” she whispered, and broke down crying again.

  “But why?” Maggie put her arms around her.

  “Because accepting to marry him was a mistake, that’s why! I did it for the sake of my child, and only now I see how wrong that was,” she lamented, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.

  “Come now, Laura, don’t be so dramatic! Men can get quite unfathomable sometimes, don’t you know? But they always come round! You’ll see . . .”

  “It’s not that simple, Maggie,” she insisted with a quivering voice that was heavy with regret.

  “But it’s only a silly fight, surely. All married couples do that, dear. Go on tell me, what did you fight about? I bet it was something trivial.”

  “You don’t understand, Maggie. We’ve been like this for a while.”

  Maggie gasped. “You have?”

  “Yes . . . We’ve been fighting for quite a long time and by now, he seems to enjoy it. Just to spite me he decided to go to Lakeview for the whole day today, taking our child with him.”

  “Didn’t he ask you to come along?”

  “Of course not!”

  “But why? What’s happened between you two?”

  “He knows about Freddie,” she replied, finally looking up to meet her friend’s eyes.

  Maggie tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  Laura gave a deep sigh. “Maggie, none of us has ever talked about it, but surely you’ve noticed,” she put to her as she searched her eyes. “Come on Maggie; it’s impossible not to! The resemblance is uncanny. And every day that passes, it becomes more and more evident. I’m surprised Charles only noticed it a month ago.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I do admit,” faltered Maggie, for some reason unwilling to say it first. She needed Laura to do that; it felt more right.

  “Surely Maggie, anyone who’s ever led eyes on Christian could see Freddie is his spitting image. His eyes, his smile . . . and the way he sets his jaw when he gets stubborn. Sometimes I look at him, and it’s like a tiny version of Christian is looking back at me.”

  Maggie twisted her lips. Finally, it’s out in the open. “And you say that Charles knows?” She was cringing now. Her whole body tensed at the thought of what this must mean for their marriage.

  “Remember that morning last month during breakfast? He got dazed all of a sudden and made some excuse about a bad back from playing golf?”

  Maggie nodded in silence, her eyes glazed over.

  “I’m quite sure that’s when he noticed it the first time.”

  “How do you know that? Has he told you?”

  “He confronted me about it the same day, not in so many words, but he implied it clearly.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow. I’m sorry, Laura. Have you actually talked about it?”

  “No. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. But let me tell you Maggie; he changed overnight ever since.”

  “But how? I’m here every day, and I haven’t noticed any tension between you two.”

  “That’s because he’s hardly around any more. And the few times that you do get to see him, well, he’s hardly going to have a row with me in your presence, is he?”

  “I guess he’s been awfully quiet. I hadn’t realised until now.”

  “Only quiet? Did you not notice how he’s stopped playing with Freddie altogether? He mostly ignores him now. And when he doesn’t, he scolds and shouts at him. Again, he won't do it in front of you, but on many occasions when we’re alone he’s been talking to him roughly. It’s like he cannot tolerate the mere sight of him.”

  “But, if he doesn’t want to be with the boy, then why did he take him along to Lakeview?” Maggie was still trying to process all this. Most of all, she found it hard to grasp how her friend’s marriage had deteriorated so quickly under her very nose.

  “I told you, Maggie! He did it out of spite to leave me on my own. Besides, he wouldn’t deprive his parents of their grandson. We all know how they adore him. He’s probably there now, acting like nothing’s happened here, playing the part of the happy husband and father, whose wife had to stay behind because of a migraine or something of the sort.”

  “Oh come on, Laura, you’re imagining things!” replied Maggie, her logic telling her that surely, it can't be all that bad. “I’m sure he’ll be back by lunch and apologise for going away like that.”

  Laura shook her head, unwilling to even entertain the absurd possibility.

  “You’ll see, he’ll apologise and take you out to make it up to you.”

  “That’s preposterous!” Laura burst out. “He hasn’t taken me out for a month. Even on our first wedding anniversary we all stayed indoors, exchanging angry glances all evening until I’d had enough and went to bed
early, at which point he went out again.”

  “You didn’t go to Lakeview the night of your anniversary? I thought his parents had offered to host a celebratory lunch for you.”

  “That’s what we told you . . . what we told everyone . . . but in the evening he changed his mind, just like that, said he’s not going to go through with the charade and had me call his parents and make up an excuse to cancel. I said Freddie was under the weather. It was a disaster. They had invited so many people and although they went on with the dinner anyway, the mood was spoiled for everyone.” Laura sighed deeply, her eyes glazed over with a glistening veil of sorrow.

  “Oh Laura, I’m so sorry . . .” Maggie put out a loving hand and caressed her friend’s hair. Laura let out a soft sigh and allowed more tears to course down her cheeks.

  “You poor, poor thing! I’m so sorry. But don’t worry. Maybe it will work out in time.”

  “Dear Maggie, forever the optimist . . .” Laura gave a wry smile as she wiped her tears with her sodden handkerchief. “Honestly, this can only get worse. Freddie is Christian’s son. Charles knows now, and he’s hardly spent time with him since the day he noticed. How do you suppose things will get better?”

  “But what if he’s still trying to come to terms with it? Maybe that’s why he hasn’t talked about it openly yet. Give it time, Laura. It’s not like he’s going to divorce you, is he? He adores you, we both know that.”

  “But he’s hardly at home any more. And most nights, he’s out. God knows where and with whom. His friends include people from all walks of life, and not all of them are gentlemen. Oh, you wouldn’t believe!” she rolled her eyes with indignation. “Most of the time he comes back drunk, slurring incoherently on the landing, mumbling to himself, as he stumbles to his room. I hear him when he passes outside mine . . . He doesn’t even care to keep quiet for Freddie’s sake.”