The Housekeeper (The Greek Island Series)

by Sara Alexi

  'That must have felt so good, Poppy, to suddenly have some power. But I cannot help but think that this did not turn out well for you,' Juliet says.

  'Ah, you will be surprised at how this did turn out for me, I think! Probably not as you expect, and that is for sure because some things happen in life that change a person, and then what you think could happen changes because they are someone else.'

  'Now you are talking in riddles!' Juliet laughs.

  Poppy shrugs. 'But isn't that the truth? Life is all one big riddle, isn't it? We spend so much time trying to work out the riddle, to find the conclusion, whereas if we just let it unravel it will come to us. Take you and Miltos, for example.'

  Juliet sits up straight.

  'Yes, I know how you feel, this is your personal business and no business of mine,' Poppy says, 'and that's true, but I use it only as an example. The more you look to untangle the riddle, try to understand all the different pieces that make up a person, all the parts that make up a relationship, the more factors you will find that do not fit with the others, and then the riddle looks even more complicated every time you approach it.'

  Juliet says nothing.

  'Oh dear, I feel I have overstepped the mark,' Poppy says.

  'No, sorry, you haven't. It was just the sudden change of tack,' Juliet says. 'You have not overstepped the mark at all. You’ve told me so much about your life that not to touch on mine would be unfair.'

  'Ah, there is none of that in life either,' Poppy says.

  'None of what?'

  'Fairness.'

  'You can say that again.' Juliet laughs.

  'And on that note I think it is time to use one of those dreaded bedpans.' Poppy sighs.

  'Oh, and before I forget, I wanted to let you know that I have invited Stella, Marina and Vasso over for something to eat tonight.'

  Juliet passes the bedpan, helps as much as she is needed, and leaves the room to give Poppy at least a little privacy.

  Chapter 25

  Juliet is on the terrace translating a document that has been occupying her for some time. It is a tedious piece, dry and lifeless, a history of Athens between the wars, and she has no idea why the man who emailed it to her wants it translated into English. Perhaps he is applying for an academic position at some foreign university.

  'Well, good luck to you,' Juliet says, feeling grateful that she does not have to deal with him face to face. Her work completed, she stretches and yawns, and spies a flash of colour approaching up the lane. It is Marina, Vasso, Stella and Miltos, coming up to the house, and as they approach Juliet can hear them discussing the goats that have been driven through the village square again. Vasso is complaining that they ate her newspapers, and that it is unacceptable that she has to rush out of her kiosk every time to protect her wares.

  'But to herd the goats the other way means taking them all the way around the back of the hill.' Stella waves her hand in the direction of the low hill that rises behind the village, topped with a crest of pine trees.

  'Yes, but I have no warning! There are the bells and then suddenly they are upon me, chewing all they can get their mouths on and stampeding over anything on the floor,' Vasso says.

  'Ah, I am lucky to be up three steps, like the kafenio. They seem to just bypass us,' Marina says.

  'Well, I asked Nicolaos not to bring them past me,' Vasso says, as if her harsh words with the goat herder should have been enough to ensure no animal ever sets hoof in the square again.

  'But nine times out of ten it is Sarah who is herding them these days,' Stella says.

  'Where is she tonight? Juliet should have asked her as well. She keeps herself to Nicolaos too much,' Marina says.

  'Or Nicolaos keeps her to him,' Miltos suggests, opening the gate and standing back to let the women through. In his other hand he is carrying a large bag, the weight of which is pulling him slightly off balance.

  'The reality is that she is behind the reception desk at the hotel,' Stella says. 'Hi, Juliet.'

  They all crunch across the drive.

  'I hope you brought wine,' Juliet greets them, shutting her laptop, work abandoned.

  'Of course.' Miltos smiles at her. 'And how is the patient?'

  'Yes, how is Poppy?' Marina chimes in. 'Poppy, can you hear us? How are you?' she calls towards the open window.

  'Poppy, I thought we could pull the table up to the window and that way you could join in, or, if we are feeling strong, we could all link arms under you and carry you out here,' Juliet says.

  'Sure, we can carry her, and I bet a change of scene would be good for her,' Stella says.

  'Ah well, if my back would allow I would help,' says Marina.

  'But Poppy weighs nothing at all, do you Poppy?' Vasso says through the window.

  'There's not much left of me these days,' Poppy agrees.

  'Well, I am going to fatten you up tonight.' Miltos deposits his bag on the table on the terrace and takes out several bottles of wine, then heads into the kitchen with what’s left.

  'Yes, it has been two days now, Poppy. You should move as much as you can, you don't want bedsores!' Stella is leaning through the open window on tiptoe. One of the cats curls around her thin legs.

  'Or deep-vein thrombosis,' Juliet says in English, aware that Vasso and Marina will not understand.

  'Deep-vein throm … what’s that?' Stella straightens herself, back in the sunshine, a hand to her forehead to shade her eyes from the sun.

  'I think it is a blood clot, but inside, deep, as the name suggests,' Juliet continues in English.

  'Well, whatever it is I don't want it,' calls Poppy. 'Come and get me out of here.' She has a laugh in her voice, as if the attention is improving her spirits.

  'Who’s going to help me with Poppy, then?' Miltos calls from kitchen.

  'I have one good leg and I am not drugged any more,’ Poppy calls. ‘I think I can manage with just a shoulder to lean on.'

  It seems she can hear everything from the bedroom; Juliet is reminded of her talks with Miltos on the terrace, conversations that felt intimate because they were getting to know each other, punctuated with awkward pauses, spaces where things were left unsaid. Poppy may have heard it all, and Juliet’s cheeks begin to feel like they are burning. She looks around her but everyone‘s attention is on Poppy, who is hobbling out into the sunshine, leaning heavily on Miltos’s strong shoulder. Marina brings up the rear, carrying a light chair.

  'You'll feel weak,' she tells Poppy. 'I'll follow you with a chair in case you need to sit down suddenly.'

  Poppy seems delighted to be outside, and Stella busies herself opening the wine. Miltos fusses, making sure that Poppy is comfortable, and then retreats to the kitchen again, returning moments later with a large pan straight from the stove. He has wrapped a tea towel around the handles, and he sets the pot down on the table.

  'Who’s hungry?' he asks, removing the lid with a flourish.

  Juliet looks around at the others, trying to gauge their reaction, but no one else seems to have noticed that the food has not been decanted into a serving dish and they do not react to the utilitarian fashion in which it has been served.

  'So, what’s new in the village?' Poppy asks, helping herself to the carbonara.

  'Ah, you missed a meeting,’ Vasso tells her. ‘Maria, opposite the church – you know, Cosmo the postman's Maria – is organising the vets to come down from Athens again. I saw two litters of kittens around the back of the kafenio a couple of months ago and we should try to get them all neutered before the spring.'

  'I don't think they breed in the spring,' Juliet says, topping up everyone’s wine. 'I mean, they do, but not only then. They breed year-round.'

  'So are the same vets coming?' Stella asks.

  'I think the same three, and they will stay with the same people again but, like last year, we cannot expect them to pay for their own travel down. Not when they give their time and expertise so freely. Also, they said to Maria that the cost of the anaesthet
ics has gone up this year.'

  'So how shall we raise what we need?' Poppy asks, concerned.

  'This is good, Milto,' Juliet says. He winks at her and takes another helping.

  The conversation moves on from the vets and the money they need to raise without resolution, and Marina recalls that she was interrogating her friend the last time she was here, and she becomes giggly and starts to pester Poppy for more information.

  'So come on, tell me more about this Kithoni.' She gives Poppy a little nudge with her elbow.

  Poppy looks at the tree by Juliet’s gate that hangs heavy with the ripening fruit. 'Why are we talking about Juliet's kithoni?' She smirks a little as she talks.

  'Not Juliet's fruit tree – your Kithoni,’ Marina protests. ‘Oh, you know exactly what I mean! The boy in the olive grove behind the house you stayed in.' Marina practically squirms in her seat.

  'Oh, that Kithoni. That wasn't his actual name, you know,' Poppy says.

  'Well, of course it wasn’t! Tell us something we don’t know! We know he just loved your quince jam, and that’s why you named him Kithoni.'

  'That’s it!' Stella interrupts the conversation.

  'What’s what?' Miltos says.

  'Well, everyone I know who has tasted it loves Juliet's marmalade, and her trees are ripe with oranges. And Poppy makes great kithoni jam, so that’s the answer.'

  'Answer to what?' Marina asks.

  'To raising the money we need for the vets, for the neutering of the cats.' Stella sounds triumphant. 'Sarah, when she is not working at the hotel or herding her goats, is busy with her hives so maybe she will donate some honey. And I know it isn’t honey or jam, but I could make some bottles of my lemon sauce.'

  'Great idea!' Vasso exclaims and pours everyone more wine. 'I make a wonderful meltzanaki, and fig jam.'

  'We could have a fair, with tables in the big hall down at the hotel,' Stella offers. 'The guests at the hotel would love it! All that local produce. Or how about the schoolyard?'

  'If we print off fliers, explaining that it’s to raise money for vets to come and neuter all the feral cats, we are bound to get good support,' Juliet says.

  ‘Maybe if we raise funds to help rebuild the wall that collapsed it will be easier to get the headmaster to support us,’ says Stella. ‘And you never know, we might end up making more money over all. I mean, not everyone in the village cares about stray animals, but they all have children or grandchildren who come to the school.’

  The women nod seriously at this suggestion from Stella, ever the business woman. All except Marina, whose mind is on a familiar track. 'Ha ha,’ she laughs, with a glint in her eye. ‘Didn’t you say that your Kithoni is from round here? Maybe we can lay a sweet trap, find out if your first love is still here, Poppy.'

  Juliet expects Poppy to wave this suggestion aside as more of Marina’s teasing, but to her surprise she actually seems interested.

  'Do you think he will still be around here?' she asks.

  'Married with thirteen children,' Vasso says, cackling with laughter.

  'Unmarried and pining for you, more like,' Marina says.

  'Lonely and in need of being found,' Stella says, and they all look at her, the prospect is so sad.

  'Well then, it is our duty to find him.' Marina lifts her glass. 'To Kithoni, whoever you are. Yeia mas!'

  Chapter 26

  Poppy sits and looks up at the stars after the women have gone, whilst Miltos and Juliet deal with the dishes. There is a slight chill in the air now the sun has set, and Juliet finds a shawl in her wardrobe, but by the time she comes out again to put it around the old woman’s shoulders, Poppy has nodded off.

  'We‘ll have to wake her to take her back to bed,' Juliet tells Miltos in hushed tones.

  'What do you mean "we"?' Miltos says, but then, just as Juliet believes he has had a change of heart and she is about to take him seriously, he grins at her like a little boy. She is not sure if it is adrenaline or excitement that tickles her stomach.

  He seems happy doing the washing-up, splashing like a child. It pleases Juliet to see that he is careful to turn the spoons upside down so they can drip-dry, but this is counteracted by the state of the kitchen, which he left in a bit of a mess when he finished cooking. Cupboard doors have been left open, and nothing has been put away.

  'You've made a bit of a mess,' Juliet says, and after such a lovely evening she is irritated, and annoyed to find that she is irritated. She would rather be able to just let it go.

  'How do the Americans say? “You have to break the eggs to make the omelette?” Or is that a British saying? No matter, you go and sit and look at the stars with Poppy and I will sort all this out.'

  His easy manner makes Juliet feel bad now for being so uptight. 'I'll just put this away,' she says, and she opens a cupboard to put away a mixing bowl only to find her weighing scales are in there. Frowning, she removes them and opens the next cupboard, where they should be kept, but the space where they normally sit is now occupied by several bags of flour. She takes these out with a sharp movement.

  'Oh,’ says Miltos, who is clearly observing her annoyance. ‘I put the flour in that cupboard because there is a back to it, and the others are open at the back, just pushed against the wall. I thought it might put off any mice interested in moving in.'

  He dries his hands and comes to stand next to her.

  Juliet had not noticed before that this particular cupboard has a back, but Miltos is right – all the others have gaps that a mouse could get in to. And despite the cats, and the traps that Juliet has put down – humane ones, of course – there is evidence that the mice run about the kitchen at night. She concedes that his rearranging her cupboards in this way was sensible, so why does it feel so much like an intrusion? She would have liked him to talk to her first, not just do it. And besides, if she wants to risk mice eating her flour then that is up to her, and who is he to tell her otherwise? It all feels too familiar and the pleasant tipsy feeling she has had all evening has gone and now she just feels tired and a bit grumpy.

  'You know what, why don't we get Poppy to bed, and I’ll finish this lot up in the morning?' Juliet says.

  'It's okay,’ Miltos replies cheerily. ‘I'll put everything back, it will only take a moment.' He seems relaxed and not at all tipsy.

  'No.' The word comes out too sharp, too fast.

  'No, thank you,' she adds, trying to soften it. 'Let’s just get Poppy to bed.'

  But why should she soften it? Maybe her instinct is right and he has overstepped the mark. She has drunk a few glasses of wine and her guard is down; isn't this how it starts? He moves one or two things in the kitchen, in an 'oh-so helpful' manner, then he starts to tell her how to do things – again, just to be helpful – and before she knows where she is it is too late: he is running the show and she is running to the beat of his drum. Isn’t that what happened with Mick? At least there can be no getting tied down by falling pregnant any more; at least that time has passed.

  'Well, if that is what you want. You know, we could put Poppy to bed in the guest room, then you can have your own bedroom back.' Miltos stands, observing her, his head slightly to one side, as if he is trying to work something out.

  'Oh yes …' There – another suggestion that appears to be helpful but which really he has not thought through, and Juliet doesn’t have the energy for the discussion. 'But I think it might be confusing for Poppy when she wakes, and also I would need to change all the sheets. No, not tonight, but maybe tomorrow. I will see how Poppy feels. Poppy are you awake?'

  'Humm, what, who's that?'

  'Poppy, it’s Juliet, shall we help you to bed?'

  'Help me to bed? Do you think I am an invalid?' Poppy tries to stand unaided, and Miltos puts his hand on her shoulder.

  'Hey, are you fully awake, Poppy, or too drunk to remember that you had an accident?' Juliet speaks with feigned laughter in her voice. 'Remember, your leg and hip, shoulder, head – in fact, just about every part of you
got a bump.' Juliet’s speech becomes genuinely kind as she focuses on the old lady.

  'I can give you all the support you need,' Miltos interjects, but because of the mess in the kitchen, although she cannot see the connection, this too irritates Juliet. But there is no alternative, and with an arm around Poppy's waist he takes most of her weight, and Juliet watches them shuffle down the corridor to her bedroom.

  'It’s been a long time since I had a young man in my bedroom,' Poppy says teasingly. Juliet has not heard this side of her before and she smiles.

  'Well, as this is Juliet's room I am not technically in your bedroom,' Miltos retorts, laughter in his voice.

  'And I imagine being in Juliet’s bedroom is not something you expected – or did you?' Poppy gives a wicked chuckle, and Juliet frowns and clenches her teeth. She closes the cupboard doors a little harder than is necessary, listening to Poppy issuing instructions to Miltos as he helps her get settled. She is not sure if she is upset with Miltos or with Poppy, or maybe she has just had too much wine and is tired.

  'There, all done,’ Miltos comes back through and stands next to her. ‘She was tired – she was practically asleep by the time I pulled the sheet over her. I put the blanket that was on the end of the bed over her as well, as I think it might be a bit cooler tonight.'

  'Thank you,' Juliet says, but without feeling.

  'You’re not all right, are you?' he says, and he steps towards her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

  'I'm fine.' She turns away and he loosens his grip, his hands falling limply to his sides.

  'No, you are not. Can I be of help?' His voice is sincere, full of concern. 'You know, having your world suddenly turned upside down with no warning is very unsettling, and Poppy coming here was not what you expected when you went to the market the other day.'

  'No, you’re right, it wasn’t.' Juliet takes a deep breath and lets it out again.

  'Give yourself a break, then. You are allowed to be as you feel.'