Game of Scones

by Samantha Tonge

  We all looked at each other. Surely no one would do this on purpose?

  ‘Someone must have been careless with a cigarette,’ I said.

  Grandma nodded. ‘We need to control the spread.’

  ‘And I know just how,’ said Georgios, coming outside. ‘I’ve rung Mr Dellis – his fireman brother still hasn’t picked up the drip torches used to burn down some of his land to build those animal pens. He also left the protective clothes… I think we should try to burn a strip of land, closest to the village, to stop the fire heading down here.’

  ‘But that’s dangerous!’ said Pandora, who’d just appeared, in her dressing gown, her usually slick short hair sticking out in all directions.

  We all fell silent for a moment. No one knew more than Pandora that loved ones could be lost, fighting fire. ‘We’re no experts and embers can fly through the air.’

  ‘But it’s a chance – better than doing nothing… A bit like our fight against ThinkBig,’ said an out-of-breath Demetrios who’d just turned up, minus his signature cravat. It was as if Taxos Taverna was now the village hub to deal with any emergency.

  ‘Let’s start by getting everyone to the beach,’ said Grandma. ‘We need the fittest to run and knock on the doors of those closest to the woods.’

  ‘I’ll head off to Mr Dellis’ house,’ said Georgios. ‘Find out how specialised this equipment is. He’ll know if it’s too dangerous for us civilians to use.’

  ‘I need to check on Leila,’ said Niko and turned to Demetrios. ‘I’ll meet you at the Vesteros’ place, yes?’

  ‘I’ll go with you,’ I said to Demetrios. We may not have been dating any more, but I still cared about Henrik and needed to know he was all right. A couple of young men in their twenties, the Angelis brothers, ran with me and the potter. Chests heaving, about ten minutes later, we reached the edge of the woods. The Vesteros’ hotel was to the right as you entered the village, just in front of a row of houses which led down the road to the pottery shop and church.

  Wow. We reached the building to see a path of thick smoke run from the woods to its front door. I couldn’t see flames but heard crackling and the air felt scorching hot, as if someone had just thrown water on the rocks in a sauna. With a cough I took several steps back.

  ‘Henrik!’ I shouted and squinting, saw low flames lick the doorway. A random gust of wind thinned the smoke for a second and I surveyed crumbling remains of the outdoor cedar wood restaurant. ‘Henrik! Are you in there?’ Eyes wide, I stared at Demetrios. With handkerchiefs over their mouths, like two cowboys, the Angelis brothers ran around the back of the hotel. A noise from behind made me turn. Who was that guy creeping away in a black balaclava? He was very thin, had ash all over his clothes and… I swallowed and strode after him. Sticking out the back of the woollen hat was a ponytail.

  ‘It was you!’ I stuttered and pointed a finger. ‘You did this for Stavros – but why?’

  He started running away and I was just about to follow when one of the Angelis brothers shouted. I span around. He beckoned for us to follow him to the back of the hotel. Holding our breath past the thickest of the smoke, Demetrios and I sprinted, turned the corner of the building and… oh my. Several hotel guests knelt on the ground coughing, as more smoke billowed out of the hotel’s back door, like the dirty exhaust of a giant car. I crouched down and rubbed the back of a teenage girl, as she was sick. Mrs Vesteros passed me tissues and a bottle of water. The girl nodded her thanks and wiped her mouth, before heading over to a woman – no doubt her mum – who’d managed to stand up and stop coughing.

  ‘Your boyfriend… he’s a hero after all,’ said Mrs Vesteros, eyes streaming, nose red, hair flapping violently in the wind. ‘He rescued these guests and has just gone in again. We were all asleep – flames spread from outside to the indoor restaurant.’ Her face crumpled. ‘The smoke alarm downstairs no work. I’ve been meaning to change it for days, but what with the plans to reinvent the village, my thoughts were elsewhere.’

  ‘Where is Henrik, now?’ I said, stomach lurching. ‘And your husband?’

  ‘They’ve gone in to look for Stavros. He must be heavy sleeper and hasn’t heard anything. I told them not to…’ A sob escaped her lips. ‘Ceiling beams have already fallen – it is too dangerous.’

  Out of breath, Niko appeared at my side.

  ‘Leila’s fine. People are evacuating the village and congregating on the beach. Mr Dellis and Papa are driving the drip torches to the edge of the woodland – they will try to burn ground and contain the fire, so–’

  He stopped talking and we listened for a second. Thank God – the siren of a fire engine. They must have made it through the woods. Suddenly a head appeared out of a top window. Stavros?

  ‘Where is Henrik!’ I hollered.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Help – my room is full of smoke.’

  ‘This is your fault!’ I screamed.

  Everyone looked at me and I took a deep breath. Now was not the time to confront Stavros. We had to get the mayor out before anything else.

  ‘No worry, Stavros,’ shouted up Niko. ‘We’ll help you down.’ He added on something in Greek, probably more comforting words.

  Then Demetrios hollered up at him in Greek – according to Niko the potter told Stavros to block the bottom of his bedroom door with bedding, to stop the smoke getting in.

  ‘But don’t jump, whatever you do,’ I called. ‘The fire engine is on its way. You’ve got time on your side.’

  Stavros’ terrified face nodded.

  ‘There is a ladder around the other side of the building,’ said Mrs Vesteros, in between coughs.

  Niko and Demetrios nodded and within minutes had it leant up against the back of the hotel, to underneath Stavros’ window. I rubbed my cheek as a searing heat radiated from the woodland – the smoke was still too thick to see whether the trees right near us were on fire. I couldn’t hear loud crackling, just the whoosh of the wind and sirens. All the cicadas and night birds must have fled.

  Niko shouted at the mayor, beckoning for him to come down. But Stavros froze, didn’t reply and then closed his eyes.

  Coughing and spluttering, several figures ran out of the back door of the hotel.

  ‘Thank God,’ I murmured and heart pounding, ran towards Henrik, with a bottle of water that Mrs Vesteros had thrust into my hand.

  ‘Take this,’ I shouted above the now very loud sirens. Eyes and nose streaming, he gratefully drank it down.

  ‘Pips – you all right?’ With a white handkerchief, he tidied up his face.

  I nodded and we gave each other a quick smile. I looked up again at Stavros. Then Cosmo appeared on a bike. He stopped, got off and threw the cycle to the floor. Quickly we told him the problem. Without warning he started to climb the ladder, whilst Niko held it steady. He reached the top, just as a big engine revved nearby and the deafening sirens stop. Cosmo and Stavros chatted briefly and the mayor shook his head. Smoke coming out of the building was even thicker now and the woods surrounding us gave out even stronger heat. Firemen helped spluttering guests around to the front and told those of us standing to leave and head for the beach.

  However, Demetrios and I stood still, watching Cosmo and Stavros. Finally the mayor lifted one leg over the windowsill and lowered it onto the ladder. He wore a vest top and boxer shorts. Then the other leg came over, all whilst Cosmo chatted and patted him on the back. Slowly the two men came down. As they neared I heard Cosmo mutter comforting words in Greek. Finally he reached the ground and then a fireman helped a shaky Stavros manage the last few steps.

  Demetrios passed the mayor a bottle of water. His eyes were bloodshot and voice trembly as we took him around to an ambulance. Now wasn’t the time to confront him about the cause of the fire. Instead I slipped an arm around his massive shoulders and squeezed him tight. He looked at me, but no words came out.

  The paramedic took over and sat him down in the back of his yellow and orange van. Fireman directed the rest of u
s away and a pair headed to the edge of the woodland, carrying drip torches and wearing different outfits to the rest of the crew. I looked up at Henrik who’d appeared at my side, just as I walked past a big red and silver fire truck.

  ‘You should get yourself checked over,’ I said and nausea backed up my throat as I noticed the hem of his shirt was singed. ‘If anything… I mean, I know we’re not together any more but… I’m so glad you’re all right.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll just get this hand checked out,’ he said and showed me a slight burn. ‘You go ahead. Go on. See if Grandma is okay.’

  I felt Niko watch us as we hugged and Henrik went back to the ambulance.

  ‘You’re not staying with him?’ said Niko, without looking me in the eye.

  ‘No. The villagers – let’s get back. We could probably do with handing out drinks and…’

  Niko half-smiled. ‘Don’t tell me – any leftover scones.’

  Quickly we headed down the high street, past the taverna and onto the crowded beach. Families stood in their pyjamas, holding torches, whilst – I should have known – Sophia and Grandma were already dealing with the refreshments. Pandora had also fetched a basket of cakes. Plus a farmer filled numerous takeaway granita cups with his strong homemade wine. Niko went straight to Leila, who was sitting the sand, telling a story to a group of children. He pulled her up and held her tight. She kissed him on the cheek and a stab of pain pierced my chest. Silly really. I’d be gone soon. Niko and exotic Leila belonged together – perhaps he’d go travelling with her.

  With a shake, I walked through the crowd, trying to block out the stink of smoke from my clothes, and told those with good English what had happened at the Vesteros’ hotel – how the fire had spread; how Henrik had been a hero. After what seemed like hours, the chief fireman turned up at the beach, along with a police officer who spoke for several minutes in Greek.

  ‘What did he say?’ I asked as mouths downturned and people started to leave.

  ‘The police have set up temporary beds in the town hall, for those of you who cannot return to their houses tonight,’ said Niko, in quiet tones.

  ‘The fire officers have contained the flames – the smoke was worse than the fire, apparently,’ said Leila, voice flat. ‘The Vesteros’ hotel bore the brunt of the damage.’

  ‘But the worst thing, now…’ Pandora’s voice broke. ‘An investigation into the fire and clear up of fallen trees means that tourists will not be allowed near Taxos for several days.’

  ‘Our bookings..?’ said Demetrios.

  Pandora nodded.

  ‘Our efforts to turn this village around without ThinkBig…? Sophia collecting signatures for the petition from other villages…?’ I mumbled. I stared at the others. They stared back.

  ‘With emergency services tape everywhere and certain areas cordoned off, it will be almost impossible to offer a lot of services advertised in our tourist leaflet, whilst the police and emergency services carry out their duties,’ said Sophia.

  Cosmo sighed. ‘Then we have lost. Thanks to Mother Earth, Stavros has won.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Whilst I might blame Mother Earth, or Mother Nature, for some things – like my propensity to lose weight from my breasts, not my thighs – yesterday’s fire wasn’t her fault. And once the dust – or rather ash – had settled, new flames, made from raging anger, sprang up inside my chest. Yes, I’d felt sorry for Stavros yesterday and was relieved and happy to see him safe. However, overnight I felt bile shoot up my throat at the thought that corruption had come out on top. I started obsessing about seeing him locked up in jail with his ponytailed friend.

  The police hadn’t come over to the taverna to take statements, yet, but when they did, I’d decided to give them a full description and say what I suspected about Stavros’ involvement.

  Not quite sure what to do until then, I sat in Pippa’s Pantry. A lump formed in my throat. My teashop dream was now over, although, in a bit of a daze, I’d still put up the “Open” sign and dusted down the tables.

  I’d slept over at the taverna again as the way out of Taxos was blocked. Firsthand, I experienced the subdued mood of the Sotiropoulos family, when we got up for breakfast. No one talked of boat trips or birdwatching walks and as if on automatic Georgios mopped the floor whilst Sophia got ready for church.

  The door opened and I looked up to see… Blimey, I must have been obsessing over the mayor, because this man looked just like a slimline version of Stavros. He had the same beady eyes and crooked nose. Before I could shoosh him away, he sat down at one of the tables and picked up a menu.

  ‘Sorry… we’re not doing business today,’ I said. What was the point? The village’s hopes had been shattered.

  ‘The sign – it say “Open”.’ He pointed to the door. ‘And I’ve come all the way from Kos Town to sample these scones.’

  Hoping to put him off, I frowned.

  ‘So I try one savoury and one sweet, no? They all sound delicious.’

  Still worn out after last night, I shrugged, not in the mood for an argument or chit-chat to find out how he’d heard of my baking. I went into the kitchen, to see what scones we had left. My head cleared for a few minutes, as I filled a roasted pepper one with feta cheese, and a cherry scone with a generous dollop of almond flavoured yogurt.

  ‘Coffee?’ I said and put the plates down in front of him.

  He nodded and bit first into the roast pepper dough. He closed his eyes. By the time I’d brought through his drink, both scones had gone.

  ‘Super,’ he said and wiped his mouth with a napkin. ‘Tell me… do scones keep well?’

  Was he a fellow baker? Perhaps he wanted to steal my idea for a Greek teashop. Inwardly I thought, so what? Good luck to him, because my plans were going nowhere now.

  I indicated to the seat opposite him and he nodded for me to sit down.

  ‘Yes – they’ll keep for one or two days in your pantry. A week in the fridge. A couple of month in the freezer. Obviously, don’t halve them until the last minute and make sure your fillings are fresh.’

  ‘How you get them to rise so well?’ he said and took a sip of coffee.

  ‘Keep the butter cold, during the mixing process.’

  ‘And the dough so light?’

  ‘Don’t use too much milk.’

  He took another sip and to break the silence I asked his line of business.

  ‘I run a large chain of coffee and ice cream bars.’

  ‘Not Creami-Kos, by any chance?’ I said, that being the only one I’d heard of.

  ‘As it so happens, yes.’

  ‘Wow. Congratulations.’ They’d been going for years. For a treat, my parents would take Niko and me into the island’s capital for one of their tropical fruit sundaes with all the trimmings. ‘So, what brings you to Taxos?’ I said, curious now. ‘Surely not just my baking.’

  He drained his cup and held out his hand. ‘My name is Orion Lakis.’

  Lakis. Where had I heard that name before… I gasped. ‘Talk about a family resemblance, I knew it! You are Stavros Lakis’ brother.’

  He smiled.

  My eyes narrowed. ‘So what are you doing here? In fact, I’m not interested. Get out. No one related to that monster is welcome in Taxos.’

  ‘Sorry. No can do. Stavros wants to see you. In Kos Town. Right now.’

  I snorted. ‘He’s not royalty and I’m not some subject he can summon to his imagined court. And how did you get into Taxos, all the roads are blocked?’

  ‘Being the mayor’s brother opens many avenues.’

  ‘I bet it does!’ I stood up. Well if he wouldn’t leave, that left me no choice, and before he could say one word more, I tore off my apron and swished out of the shop. A walk on the beach would help, all that salty air in my lungs, the squawk of seabirds in my ears, the breeze blowing against my face… And I was just a few metres from the sand when a flash silver car drove up, cut in front of me and stopped. Someone jumped out and yanked open the
passenger door.

  ‘Get in, Pippa,’ said Orion.

  Huh? I backed away, but he clasped my arm. Yet his grip was gentle and his tone softened.

  ‘Look… I know my brother… It must be hard to have faith in the Lakis family name, but trust me, seeing Stavros today, it is for the advantage of you and Taxos. He is waiting for you and Henrik at the Flamingo Inn.’

  ‘Henrik?’

  ‘Yes.’ Orion let go of me. ‘We pick him up on the way back. Last night he slept in the town hall. I can drop you both at the villa. You change, then we head into Kos Town together.’

  ‘What sort of advantage?’

  Orion simply raised his eyebrows.

  I stared inside the car and spotted no rope, machete nor gun. Okay, that was a good start.

  ‘For the benefit of Taxos, you say?’

  He nodded and looked me straight in the face without the air of shiftiness his brother seemed to carry around.

  I bit my lip. Nodded. Climbed into the passenger seat. Orion shut the door and went around to the other side. He got in.

  ‘You like Barry Manilow?’ he said and turned on the engine.

  Copacabana? The knot in my stomach unfurled. That was hardly the music choice of an axe murderer.

  Although I wasn’t sure, as having heard that song almost twenty times by the time we got to Kos Town and parked, I was ready to wield an axe myself. As promised, Orion had picked up Henrik. We’d freshened up and both changed clothes in the villa. It was just as well Henrik hadn’t taken all his belongings to the Vesteros’ hotel. He had no idea what the meeting was about. His burned hand was dressed in bandages, so I helped him button up his shirt.

  ‘So, the villagers’ plans to save Taxos are now in ruins?’ he said, as we both sat in the back of Orion’s car.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that, but, well… Understandably despondency has set in. If tourists can’t access the village, their chances of promoting new ventures are stumped.’ I shrugged. ‘How does it feel to have won?’

  ‘Pippa, please – this is work.’