Island of Secrets

by Patricia Wilson

  ‘Now?’

  Angie nodded again. For the first time, she saw him looking a little unsure of himself, which stirred her unease. She wondered if she should call off the entire event.

  Stavro’s face relaxed. ‘I can’t see any reason why not. I’m sure it would make your grandmother very happy.’

  ‘But what about my mother? I don’t want to hurt her,’ Angie said.

  He thought for a moment, shrugged and shook his head. ‘What harm can it do? It would be quite incredible for us all to see her, but I’m finding it hard to accept that Poppy would call.’

  Angie’s worry that she was making a huge mistake, and knowing she was crossing a line, continued to battle with her determination to ease her mother’s pain and unhappiness.

  The stress of the afternoon, along with Voula’s homemade pasta in fresh tomato sauce, gave Angie a bout of indigestion. Demitri and Matthia returned to the table. The supermarket man offered embarrassed smiles and her uncle glanced daggers at every opportunity.

  Angie was grateful for the distraction when her tablet chimed into life.

  ‘It’s Nick, everybody, my fiancé. He’s at Mam’s. Yiayá, Papoú, come and speak to Mam.’ Angie, ashamed of her bout of jealousy, longed to see Nick, and at the same time, she worried about her mother’s reaction to the videocall.

  Yiayá hadn’t said a word since they all sat together. Her face brightened when Angie slid onto the cushion next to her. All the effort to unite her mother and grandmother was about to come into fruition. Angie recognised this moment as one of the most important times in her life.

  Her insides felt fluttery with excitement and nerves. At last, Maria and Poppy would see each other!

  Matthia pulled a cigarette packet from his pocket and returned to the wall at the end of the garden. Angie smiled in his direction. His grumpiness, bad as it was, couldn’t destroy the bond between them all. He would return, she knew it.

  Once again, Angie thought about her phone call to Nick. She had been stupid. Nick was as honest and trustworthy as she could ever hope.

  Truly sorry she had given him a hard time, she touched her eyes, damming tears as the Skype application chimed. Now, everything would be perfect because her mother and her grandmother were about to be united after forty years.

  Smiling, Angie took a huge breath as the picture came into focus.

  The anxiety on Nick’s face, and the hospital’s Accident & Emergency sign in the background, poleaxed her. ‘What’s the matter, Nick! What’s going on?!’ she gasped, feeling her skin shrink in fear.

  ‘It’s Poppy,’ Nick said. ‘So sorry, Angie, really sorry. I did all I could.’

  Chapter 23

  ‘NICK! WHAT’S HAPPENED!’ Angie cried hysterically.

  ‘They got her back, Angie,’ he said breathlessly. ‘The paramedics, they got her back; restarted her heart.’ He put his hand over his eyes and Angie could see he’d snapped. After a few seconds, he could speak again. ‘Don’t worry. She’s in good hands now. I’m outside the hospital. They made me turn my phone off in the A&E. I’ve got to go back inside and wait for the doctor to come back to me, but I thought you should know straight away.’

  ‘Mam!’ Angie gasped, staring at Nick.

  Matthia returned to the table. Agapi had appeared and squeezed onto the end of the seat. Voula pushed up, squashing Angie against Yiayá, who also recognised the medical background. They all crossed themselves. The men sat opposite and watched Angie. The women’s wide-eyed faces crowded together and peered at the tablet.

  ‘What do you mean, “They got her back”, Nick? Exactly what’s happened, how is she? I’ll get a flight, come back right away –’

  ‘Don’t panic, Angie. The worst’s over. Trust me, I’m dealing with it.’

  ‘I know you are, I know. But tell me?’

  ‘I tried to persuade Poppy to speak to everyone there, like you wanted, but she wouldn’t. I told her the real reason you had gone to Crete was to bring you all together and it was so important to you.’ He pushed at the furrows in his brow and blew his cheeks out. ‘Poppy got upset, all emotional. She started crying and then the colour drained out of her. I’m not kidding, Angie, her face was grey, and she had awful pains in her chest and down her arm. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand. I was afraid . . . God! A nightmare. She looked terrible. I guessed she was having a heart attack so I literally picked her up and carried her to the car. Luckily, the traffic wasn’t too bad. I raced straight to the General’s A&E.’

  ‘Oh Nick, poor you! I’m ashamed, please forgive me. What happened when you arrived? Was it a heart attack?’ she stammered. Her mother had nearly died because of her! This was all her fault! Her conniving, self-centred fault! She had caused Poppy too much distress. The videocall was bound to horrify her, Angie had known it. Convincing herself the result would be worthwhile was no excuse.

  ‘I pulled into the ambulance bay, but she was unconscious and I couldn’t get her out of the car. The paramedics raced over with a gurney and a defibrillator. She’d gone, Angie. Oh my God! The worst moment of my life.’ He choked on the words. ‘Give me a minute, will you?’

  He lowered the phone and, through her tears, Angie could see people rushing into the hospital. ‘But she’s all right now?’ she asked the moment he came back on screen.

  He nodded and sighed and she recognised the awful strain on his face. ‘I wish I hadn’t put you in this situation, darling,’ she sobbed. ‘Thank goodness you were there.’ Things could have been much worse. She shuddered to think of Poppy on the floor, alone. It was four days before Angie would have returned to London.

  Although Nick had done a great job, it should have been Angie taking care of her mother. Would Poppy ever forgive her? In her selfishness, Angie had marched arrogantly on, never contemplating that she might be making things worse.

  One guilty thought after another fell on Angie until she swore to God she would concentrate on being less self-centred and manipulating, so long as her mother recovered soon.

  ‘She’s a bit better,’ Nick said. ‘They’ve taken her to cardiology. Jesus Christ Almighty, Angie, I never want to go through that again.’

  Angie looked up up to see everyone crossing themselves. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she said, glancing around the table before returning to her fiancé on the phone. ‘Then what happened, Nick?’

  ‘They made me go and park the car. By the time I returned, the cardiologist was with Poppy.’

  ‘How’s Mam now?’

  ‘They’re doing tests at the moment.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Call me back in exactly half an hour, Angie, I’ll know more then. My battery’s low. I’ve got to turn the phone off and go back inside now. I don’t want to miss the specialist. Love you, sweetheart. Try not to worry too much.’

  The connection broke. Angie gulped and tried to gather her self-control before she looked into the faces of her Cretan family. ‘Poor Mam,’ she muttered.

  Stavro turned and stared at the horizon. After a long silence, he blew his nose, glanced at his watch and turned to face them again. ‘We’ll call Nick at two o’clock. Voula, make some coffee.’

  Voula scuttled to the kitchen. Stavro demanded everyone’s attention, ‘Listen, everybody! Poppy will be fine. It’s been twenty years since the same thing happened to me and treatment is much better these days. Nick’s right, we should try not to worry.’

  They all stared at him, wanting to believe, afraid, speechless.

  Angie said, ‘Mam’s never had a problem with her heart before.’ She turned to Stavro. ‘Do you think it might be hereditary? I think it’s important that Nick tells the specialist about your heart – I didn’t know about it until now.’

  ‘It could be the same trouble, but then maybe not. We mustn’t jump to conclusions. There’s no reason to think it’s a family weakness, or that there’s any genetic link. After all, your grandparents both seem to have strong hearts,’ Stavro said.

  Voula returned with frappés for everyone. Angie no
ticed an odd look exchanged between her and Matthia. Voula’s shoulders dropped.

  ‘What do you think, Uncle Matthia?’ Angie asked.

  He shrugged and, without answering, stomped off back down the garden to smoke another cigarette.

  Voula handed out coffee and then exclaimed, ‘Somebody should tell Angelika! Perhaps it is hereditary!’ She sounded angry. They all shuffled in their seats, throwing glances at each other before lowering their eyes.

  Angie looked from one to the other. Shut out again. She broke the silence.

  ‘I must check flights to the UK, so I’m prepared, in case the doctor thinks I should go back.’

  Will you ever forgive me, Mam?

  Angie glanced at her watch; time crawled. ‘Can I use the house phone, Yiayá?’

  ‘You can, koritsie. The phonebook’s on the living room shelf.’

  Ten minutes later, Angie came back into the garden. ‘There’s a flight at eight o’clock tonight. I’ll call Nick, see what’s happening.’

  Tension mounted, even Voula remained quiet. Nick answered her call and said the heart specialist had returned. He explained that Angie was Poppy’s daughter before handing the phone over to him.

  ‘We have everything under control and Mrs Lambrakis is stable,’ the specialist confirmed. ‘I’m logging her in for a balloon angioplasty tomorrow afternoon. She may need surgery; we’re doing tests now, just to be on the safe side we’ll be prepared.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Angie replied. ‘I’m sorry, but what’s a balloon angioplasty? How serious is it? Should I get a flight home? Is she in pain?’

  ‘Ah, yes, one thing at a time.’ Angie heard impatience in the doctor’s voice. ‘Briefly, a balloon angioplasty means we’ll insert a small balloon on the end of a catheter and inflate it to widen the arterial lumen. It’s a common procedure for angina.’ He spoke to somebody away from the phone then said, ‘We may fit a stent – a small tube to keep the artery open. Should you come home? Not for me to say. There’s always a certain amount of risk with any surgery – if she does need surgery. You’ll probably feel better if you’re here. Mrs Lambrakis is conscious but sedated and comfortable. I’ll inform the ward sister that you can see her up until her pre-med. That’s if we do decide to go ahead and operate.’

  ‘Does that mean more than the angioplasty?’

  ‘Excuse me.’ He spoke to somebody else again, and then said, ‘Yes, we may decide on something more, perhaps a bypass. It’s impossible to say at this moment. Now, I must go. Try not to worry, it won’t make any difference.’

  ‘Her brother has a stent and had a bypass,’ Angie said.

  ‘That’s useful information.’

  Angie thanked the doctor and ended the call, fearing she had forgotten to ask a terribly important question.

  She worked out her timescale. ‘I’ll have to leave Viannos at about five o’clock. I’ll phone the airport and book a ticket.’ She glanced around the silent faces and remembered Voula’s words.

  ‘Uncle Matthia, will you come with me? Mam would love to see you. I’m insured, so it would be a free ticket.’

  Matthia’s face pinched. ‘Why would Poppy want to see me? She hasn’t bothered for all these years. Go by yourself.’

  ‘Honestly! You and Mam are so alike. Can’t you be nice, just for once?’ Angie snarled, at once regretting it. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean . . . I’m worried . . .’ Hot tears spilled and she swiped them away quickly.

  Matthia glared, struggled to his feet and marched out of the garden.

  ‘He’d love to go,’ Voula said, ‘but he doesn’t have a passport.’

  ‘I’d like to come with you, Angelika,’ Stavro said, ‘but I don’t have the money and – forgive me – I can’t believe your insurance will cover the ticket.’

  ‘Look, Uncle Stavro, your seat will cost less than my room and the car hire for the rest of the week, so please let me get it for you. I think if Mam saw you again, in person, it would do her more good than any medicine. You’d be doing us all a favour.’

  Stavro stood and glanced to where Matthia had stormed from the garden. ‘Give me an hour to decide, Angelika?’

  ‘Of course I will – and don’t fret about your brother. I’ll talk to him.’ Angie’s organisational skills were underway. She could rise to a challenge and keep calm in a crisis. Now over the initial shock, she could handle the situation as sensibly as anyone.

  Stavro nodded and followed Matthia.

  ‘Voula, I need to show you how this works.’ She tapped her tablet. ‘I’m going to give it to Uncle Matthia so he can call us in England.’

  ‘But you can’t leave your laptop, Angelika, they’re so expensive,’ Voula said.

  ‘No, Aunty, it’s a tablet. Don’t worry, I want to be able to call you.’

  ‘Will I be able to see Poppy, Angelika?’ Maria asked. Angie turned to her grandparents, both visibly upset. They hadn’t spoken since Nick’s call. Angie told them exactly what had happened.

  Maria placed her hand on Angie’s cheek. ‘I want to go to England and see my daughter, Angelika, but haven’t a passport either. Anyway, I don’t think I’d make it. Can you fix it so I see her on that contraption of yours? Then I can die in peace.’

  Vassili nodded. ‘Me too,’ he said.

  Angie gasped. ‘Yiayá, Papoú, please don’t talk like that. It frightens me. I promise that even if I have to catch Mam asleep in bed, you’ll see her as soon as possible.’

  Maria stared at the tablet, then her eyes met Angie’s. ‘Will I really see her, Angelika? I can hardly believe it – it’s impossible to explain how I feel.’

  Vassili also nodded at the tablet. ‘You probably take that thing for granted, Angelika, but it’s like a miracle to us. My little girl left here so long ago. Often, I sit here and stare at the bus stop.’ He lifted his head towards the rickety shack on the ridge next to the monument. ‘I imagine how I would feel if I saw her get off the airport bus. And now you say we can speak to her on your television thing.’ He shook his head. ‘Poppy has no idea how much I miss her. Fathers and daughters, there’s always a special bond between them, hey? You’ll see, soon enough.’ He nodded at her belly.

  Angie’s eyes widened. Soon enough? He seemed to be implying she was already pregnant.

  Vassili blew his nose and then told Voula to bring raki.

  When the old folk had calmed, Stavro returned.

  ‘I’d like to accept your offer, Angelika. I haven’t seen my sister for forty years,’ he said. ‘And I’ve never been to London.’

  Angie smiled. ‘Thank you. I’m so pleased.’

  She set up a Hotmail account for Matthia, taped instructions onto the back of the tablet, and then went in search of him.

  She found him in the kafenion.

  ‘Uncle Matthia, please, let’s call a truce. I can’t take this anymore,’ Angie said, approaching him.

  A group of middle-aged men, playing cards, stared at her.

  ‘Uncle Matthia?’

  ‘I heard you, I’m not deaf.’

  ‘How about it, what do you say? I’m worried about Mam and I don’t have time for this aggravation. Can you help me with something?’

  Matthia sucked on his moustache and glared. ‘How could I help you? You seem quite capable of helping yourself.’

  ‘Why are you always so horrid to me?’ Angie pulled out a rickety chair, nodded at the kafenion owner, and ordered a small bottle of raki.

  ‘Uncle Matthia, Yiayá is desperate to see my mother, and between us we have the power and the technology to make that happen. Aren’t they more important than us? Can we put our differences aside, please, for their sakes?’

  Matthia stared at the tabletop.

  He’s like a sulky child, Angie thought, before she tried again. ‘I understand that you love Mam and she loves you. I also realise she’s hurt you. Nobody will explain what it’s all about and, to be honest, I’m totally pissed off at being shut out. I’m family too and I have a right to know what’s go
ing on.’ Frustrated when he didn’t respond, she took a breath and continued. ‘I didn’t come here to cause trouble, Uncle, or make you angry. I just wanted to meet you, and my family, and find out if there was a way to lessen my mother’s heartache. I love her! Can’t you help me?’

  ‘You make us look foolish with your modern ways.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t intend to embarrass anybody.’ Angie put her hand on the tablet. ‘This is new technology and somebody had to teach me how to use it. Now I want to show you.’

  Matthia glanced up to her face, almost met her eyes, but then diverted to his raki glass.

  ‘You can try, but I’m not saying I’ll do it,’ he said.

  Twenty minutes later, a reluctant Matthia had mastered it. ‘Great!’ Angie said, ‘You’ve got it, Uncle. I’ve written the instructions on the back in case you come unstuck. It took a few goes before I understood it, and I got very frustrated, but you’ll probably get it right first time.’

  He seemed placated, and then he shocked her by gently placing his hands over hers.

  ‘I realise you don’t understand, koritsie,’ he said. ‘It’s the past, but it doesn’t go away, all the pain and regret. If I didn’t care, it wouldn’t hurt so much.’

  Angie heard such sadness in his voice. She looked from his hands to his face and saw the bitterness in his eyes replaced by sorrow. ‘Oh, Uncle, I wish I did understand. If only somebody would explain.’ She glanced at the kafenion clock. ‘But I have to go now. Can we part friends? Please?’

  Matthia nodded, slammed his glass down and then raised it. ‘Yammas, Angelika, safe journey.’ His eyes locked on to hers. She had a strong impression he wanted to say more.

  ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘Come back, before your wedding,’ he said.

  ‘I will, as soon as I can.’

  ‘Listen to me, Angelika. It’s important . . . Come back before your wedding!’

  Slightly startled, Angie nodded, kissed his cheek and left him alone at the tin table.

  Back at the cottage, Angie stared at Stavro’s luggage. ‘Sorry, Uncle, I had you down for a cabin bag. I didn’t realise . . .’