Game of Scones

by Samantha Tonge

  ‘It was your favourite as a child, Pippitsa.’ Sophia smiled before taking another bite. We both swayed from side-to-side, unable to sit still as Cosmo played a harmonica solo. ‘Of course, you enjoy fancier food in London, no?’ She eyed me up and down. ‘I hope you eat enough, with your busy job.’

  I squeezed her arm. ‘It’s a good thing I don’t live with you, otherwise I’d be curvier than the most revered Ancient Greek goddess. In fact, this is the food of the gods.’

  Sophia’s heart-shaped face beamed. ‘How kind – and you loved Grandma’s puddings…’ She stared at my cheeks. ‘She would rub yogurt into that sunburnt skin.’

  ‘Niko said the same,’ I replied and chuckled. But just like in the taverna on Saturday, when I’d laughed with her son, a strange expression crossed Sophia’s face.

  ‘He… Leila… they seem like a well-matched couple.’ I said and put down my fork. ‘Have they been engaged long?’

  ‘Over one year now. They told us just before Grandma fell ill.’

  ‘Could I see her, tonight? Or is it too late? Will she be tired?’

  ‘Of course. She is impatient to see Pippitsa too.’ Sophia grinned. ‘Did you bring scones?’

  I nodded and stood up, my stomach twisting a little. How much would feisty Grandma have changed?

  After fetching the basket from the buffet table, I followed Sophia up rickety stairs, just behind the bar. We came to a small kitchenette for the family and three bedrooms. The door around to the right belonged to Niko. I recalled the secret childhood tank containing two lizards, its floor lined with bark, plus a big piece of driftwood and bowl of water. A sign on his bedroom door had banned adults from entering his “private space”. Sophia must have gone in now and again to change the bed and no doubt turned a blind eye to the lizards, as long as they were happy and well-fed.

  We stopped by the door to the left of the tidy kitchenette and gently, Sophia knocked.

  ‘I think your visit will do her good,’ she murmured. Without waiting for an answer, Sophia opened the door and popped her head around to mumble something in Greek. I heard my name then the reply of a croaky female voice. Sophia straightened up and gave me a nod. I went in on my own and heard Niko’s mum close the door before going back downstairs.

  What a lovely room, with the simple whitewashed walls, quilted bedcover and colourful ceramic bowls. And what was that distinct grape-like smell? Of course, Grandma’s signature perfume, made from irises, her namesake. Nostalgia wafted over me as I breathed in the floral aroma. Once again, I marvelled how some things never changed. Although, through the dim lamplight… I could avoid it no longer… I focussed on the wizened body of an elderly woman I hardly recognised. My throat ached. Gone were the full cheeks. Yet she still had those fiery cinnamon eyes that would glint when Niko and I got into trouble – and glow when I made her fresh scones or told a joke.

  An arm that looked thin, despite the billowing blue nightie, stretched out. I hurried forward to grip her hand, blinking hard, forcing my mouth to upturn.

  ‘Pippa! My little peach! You came!’ Her eyes lit up. Eventually she let go and patted the bed as she pushed herself more upright. I sat down on the mosaic patterned red and brown bed quilt and put the basket on my lap. She gave a gap-toothed smile. ‘You bring gifts?’

  I parted the tea-towel and lifted out one of the scones. She took it and inhaled. ‘Mmm, chocolate and…’

  ‘Fresh apricots,’ I said.

  She handed it back. ‘Tomorrow I shall breakfast like a king. Efharisto, dear Pippa. Now, hug old Grandma. Speak of your young man. Last winter I was too ill to meet him.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘But I spotted on him out of my window, one day. He is like a very tall, very blonde Cary Grant – the movie star of my day…’

  ‘Spying on young men? Grandma! You shock me!’

  She smiled and for one nanosecond looked about sixteen. I willed my chin not to wobble at the wispiness of her hair and those hollow cheeks.

  ‘… and so, that’s how I met Henrik,’ I said, about twenty minutes later, my fingers still holding hers tight.

  Those cinnamon eyes studied me. ‘He makes you happy, child?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said brightly. ‘But, um, enough about me – I hear there is to be a wedding. Isn’t Leila lovely?’

  Grandma’s face broke into another smile, reminiscent of the dancing grey-haired woman who’d taught me how to make honey soaked doughnuts, the last summer I visited Taxos. ‘Leila’s family comes from my childhood village. Her grandmother and I were school friends. It is a perfect match. Their children will be much loved on both sides. Their union, it…’ Her voice quietened. ‘Without it, I don’t know how I would have kept going, this year. So much has gone wrong… my health… poor business… Here in Taxos – in Greece. We see hard times. A wedding …’ She tried to suppress a yawn. ‘The joining of two families… is like a rainbow casting beauty across a stormy sky.’

  I nodded. ‘And… how are you doing?’

  ‘Better than I expected, one year on – although I feel like such a burden to the family.’

  ‘Pah – nonsense! They love you to bits and wouldn’t begrudge a minute looking after you…’

  She fingered the quilt cover. ‘It’s not just that – not all healthcare is free since things got bad in Greece. The taverna has money problems enough without Georgios and Sophia having to find extra to pay my bills. But enough about me,’ she said, eyelids heavy now. ‘You… you and Niko still get on well? Has time changed your friendship?’

  ‘You are, um tired now,’ I mumbled. ‘I’ll come back again to talk – and perhaps bake more scones.’

  ‘Pippa? You are hiding something, no?’

  ‘Grandma!’ I said and forced a grin. ‘You don’t change, seeing intrigue where there is none!’

  A small chuckle escaped her lips. ‘I can tell it going to do me good to have you here. Everyone else treats me like a dandelion seed head that could be destroyed by just one puff of air. I am so glad you visit our island again. Always… you gave me… joy. Even the times when your cheeky face meant you and Niko had been bad.’ Her lips twitched and I knew she was laughing inside.

  Now that we were silent, chatter and music trickled up from the party below. I brushed strands of hair from her face, and hummed her favourite sleeping cuckoo song. The lines on her forehead smoothed out and her breathing became more even. Having neatened the bedclothes, I kissed her forehead, the scent of her grape-like perfume becoming stronger as I leant forward. After tip-toeing out of the room, I closed the squeaky wooden door behind me and my face crumpled for a moment. I hardly noticed someone come out of the kitchenette.

  ‘Pippa? What you do up here? All okay?’

  I looked up to see Niko wrapping a plaster around his finger. He shrugged. ‘I was a little enthusiastic with the cheese knife.’

  Heart pounding now, I followed him back into the kitchen and stared as he put away the first aid box. I struggled to control a balloon of anger inside my chest that was threatening to burst but oops – Epic Failure.

  ‘You should have written or phone-called,’ I hissed.

  Brow furrowed, Niko closed the cupboard and turned around. ‘Huh?’

  ‘Grandma. She’s so… Things must have been… Why didn’t you tell me? Do all those years of friendship with my family count for nothing? I mean, I know I’ve lost touch a bit, but Mum and Dad still–’

  ‘Whoa, wait a minute – Henrik was here in January. He must have said something.’

  ‘Yes, well, Henrik was only here briefly and probably didn’t even see her and–’

  ‘Look, Pippa, she wasn’t diagnosed until after your parents left last summer and it… is hard thing to write in a Christmas card. And what would you have done? Left your busy London life? We haven’t seen you for nine years.’

  I opened my mouth.

  ‘Pippa – that’s no criticism… We’re all busy. Lives change. You and me, we stopped writing to each other a long time ago. And I’m not much in
terested in the internet – that Facebook thing – when I could be outside in the sun.’ He lifted his hands in the air. ‘Sorry, okay. Perhaps I should have thought – made sure. Although…’ He screwed up his forehead. ‘Wait a minute… Mama mentioned it in a card to your mum for her birthday in March, no?’

  I swallowed and thought hard for a second. March – when I’d been cramming for exams at work. I held my basket tighter. Thinking back now I recalled a telephone call – Mum saying something about Sophia being worried about Grandma. But… okay, I admit it, sometimes my mind wandered when on the phone. This year I’d been so wrapped up in my new job, my career, it was hard to switch off.

  How could I have not been shaken out of my thoughts though, at the mention of the Big C? Had I really become so absorbed in stuff that – in comparison to this – didn’t really matter, like projected profits, sales targets and staff expenditure?

  Niko came towards me but I backed away.

  ‘Okay.’ My voice wobbled. ‘Maybe I got it wrong. It’s just… I hate seeing her like this. Sorry.’ I sniffed, dying to ask if his family needed help paying Grandma’s health bills.

  ‘No need for sorry,’ he said and gave a small smile. ‘Although… If you want to make it up to me, just listen for two minutes to something I want to say about Henrik.’

  I gasped. ‘You don’t know when to give up, do you?’ After plonking the basket on the table, I swung around and headed for the stairs. Quickly I went down into the restaurant, cheerful voices blurred, due to loud music. Henrik, laughing with Georgios, caught my eye and winked. Sophia and old Mrs Dellis ate baklavas oozing with honey. Leila sat on the floor, next to a pile of Nintendos – clearly confiscated – and with a group of children played a board game. Slowly my chest stopped heaving and I glanced out towards the patio, where Georgios was doing the Greek circle dance with guests.

  He jerked his head, beckoning for me to join in. I beamed and gave the thumbs up. You know what? I intended to enjoy this holiday. Blocking all thoughts of Niko, I headed outside. In the corner, just in front of an olive tree, stood two men playing different-sized, pear-shaped string instruments – next to them sat an old woman, clapping. Georgios took his left arm away from Cosmo and made a gap for me. Fortunately, with my height, I was able to drape my arms across their shoulders, unlike the other women who made do with waists. I couldn’t stop smiling as the music slowed for a moment and then got quicker and quicker, until I was almost out of breath. The footwork I’d learned during my childhood quickly came back – as did chef Georgios’ signature aroma of herbs.

  I admired the other women’s colourful skirts decorated with rich floral patterns and laced headscarves. Gasps of breath escaped my lips as the circle moved quicker from side to side. By now we just held hands, at shoulder height, feet moving backwards and forwards and then around to the right… Finally the music stopped and we all clapped.

  ‘No more… I need a drink…’ I said.

  ‘Bah, you youngsters have no sticking power,’ said Georgios and chuckled. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his perspiring bald head.

  I headed indoors, longing for an icy orange granita. However, a hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to see Niko. Before I could object, fingers curled around mine and led me outside to the front of the taverna and the street. I tugged my hand away as the humid night air enveloped my body. The moon shone brighter than a torch in a power cut. Stars peek-a-booed and a deliciously sweet scent wafted over from the white-flowered jasmine plants, either side of the taverna’s entrance. Talk about a perfect romantic setting. I should have been out here hand-in-hand with Henrik… shouldn’t I?

  ‘Just hear me out,’ he said.

  ‘Look, oughtn’t you get back inside to see Leila? Mind you… she looks perfectly happy playing with those children.’

  His face lit up. ‘Yes. Leila will be a wonderful mother.’

  I nodded, knots in my stomach at the pride that crossed his face. Did he think I’d make a good mum?

  I shook myself. ‘Sophia was saying earlier that she helped her parents work the land and looked after neighbours’ small kids – sounds like you’ll both be happy staying in Taxos, like you always imagined…’

  He shrugged, obviously still waiting for permission to talk about Henrik. I gave a big sigh.

  ‘Look, just spit it out. But you’ve only got two minutes. Then I’m going back inside.’

  Niko sat down at one of the nearby outdoor tables. I sat opposite him, my breathing back at its normal pace. The taverna’s blinds were closed. The street was empty apart from a couple of stray cats and invisible chirping cicadas.

  ‘No interrupt then. Please,’ said Niko and took a deep breath. ‘Henrik tells me he’s going to Kos Town on business tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes – to see a client for lunch and close some big deal.’

  ‘That’s what he said to me too – but looking decidedly suspicious. And despite my polite questions, would say no more.’ Niko ran a hand through his black curls. ‘So when he suddenly hurried out to the patio, to answer his phone, I innocently stood nearby.’

  ‘You eavesdropped?’

  ‘Yes. The dancing had not started then.’ He pursed his lips. ‘And it is a good thing I did. Henrik called the person on the line Stavros – so it is the mayor. They have this meeting tomorrow at one o’clock, in some English pub called The Flamingo Inn. I’ve seen it, not far from the famous Hippocrates Tree.’ Niko stared at me. ‘Henrik went on to say the word Caretta. Then mentioned ThinkBig, the name of his employer.’

  ‘So? Look, how long’s this going to–’

  ‘He also said… ’ Niko fiddled with his leather bracelet, ‘“Pippa must not find out.” Something about you loving marine life…’ His eyes widened. ‘I’m convinced ThinkBig has bribed the mayor into helping them get permission to develop on the nature reserve, on the east side of the island – it is one of the few places in Kos where the endangered Caretta turtles still nest every twelve months. Experts think they are considering nesting here in Taxos again, in the cove – but that may not be for another year or two. Until then, every nesting site needs protection.’

  My jaw fell open. ‘There’s no way Henrik would push for the decimation of a reserve. And corrupt or not, surely even the mayor wouldn’t ever get permission?’

  ‘You don’t understand, Pippa – things have changed since the recession. New laws have been brought in that allow rich foreigners to invest in and develop protected land, as long as they replace it by building a reserve elsewhere. It happened three years ago on the southern tip of the island, near Kefalos. The beaches are perfect for surfing, so a holiday firm was allowed to take over that part of the beach and nearby land, at the expense of the turtles and peacocks. The nesting season was ruined and no turtles have been reported since, anywhere along that part of the coast.’

  My chest tightened at the way Niko’s eyes glistened – he loved sea life as much as me. But Henrik knew my views on protecting the natural world. I couldn’t believe he’d be part of such a damaging programme. Yet an uneasy sensation rippled down my body, from head to toe. Henrik was ambitious, even ruthless when it came to business… Like the time one deal meant a forced purchase of several houses in a town up north. One elderly couple had appealed the decision but lost. Henrik seemed to have no qualms that ThinkBig had stolen many of their family’s memories, by knocking down their home – all he’d focussed on was that they’d been given a more than generous payment for their small bungalow

  I stared at Niko… On the other hand, why would my childhood friend make this up? Nausea briefly hit the back of my throat at the thought of builders tearing apart the safe haven of those magnificent turtles. But I owed my loyalty to Henrik who, above all else, was always honest.

  I tutted. ‘This is what happens when people eavesdrop – you don’t get the full story. I’m sure there’s an explanation for all this that isn’t sinister.’

  ‘You should accompany him to Kos Town tomorrow, Pippa
. Pretend to go shopping but really spy on him. This project needs to be stopped before it gets underway.’

  I scraped back my chair and stood up. ‘Are you completely mad? You may disrespect and deceive Leila behind her back, but my relationship with Henrik is based on openness and trust – you ought to try it sometime.’

  ‘So, you told him about our butterfly kisses?’

  ‘No… you see… they were your idea and… took me by surprise. What’s more, I’m not engaged, whereas you… ’ Urgh! How dare he smile? At least I’d already been having doubts about Henrik, whereas he’d committed to a future with his girlfriend. Although a wave of discomfort washed over me, as if I’d been caught out.

  ‘Pippa…’

  I shook my head. ‘You have insulted my boyfriend – and tried to lower my standards to yours, by saying I should spy. I don’t understand all this trouble-stirring between me and Henrik.’

  ‘But–’

  ‘I don’t know who you are any more. From now on, leave me alone!’

  Chapter Seven

  Long arms snaked around my body as I stood in front of the kitchen sink. Gentle kisses trailed a path, up and down my neck. Hands covered in bubbles, I turned around to look up at those familiar slate eyes, crinkling at the corners. Henrik leant down but jerked away, laughing, when I put a dollop of soap suds on his nose.

  ‘We’ll be late for your lunchtime meeting, if you keep this up,’ I said.

  ‘Then stop looking so damn gorgeous,’ he said huskily and firmly held my waist.

  I smiled sheepishly until our lips met, and told myself that the irrational, crazy, all-encompassing, exciting sensations I’d felt when just millimetres from Niko’s face, had simply been a blip. My love for Henrik was solid. Still a bit tingly. And I could rely on him not to deceive me. That magnetised feeling with my old Greek friend was clearly driven by nostalgia for our former friendship.