Secrets Under the Sun

by Nadia Marks

  ‘Everyone makes mistakes, it’s only human,’ she would often lecture her daughters, ‘but these mistakes happen though ignorance, and the consequences are there for life.’

  Yet no matter how tolerant Olga was, when Katerina remembered whose baby she was carrying and the gravity of her own predicament, all her hopes came tumbling down and crushed any glimpse of optimism she had. What if Olga rejected her, found what she had done abhorrent? She couldn’t bear that. This was her own problem, and she had made her decision. I must face the consequences of my actions, she thought, and continued to torment herself with uncertainty until the day the padre came to visit.

  Up until the time she discovered she was pregnant Katerina had managed to keep herself composed when in company, but when she was alone she cried herself to sleep each night. During their last emotional meeting in his house, she and the padre had agreed to take some time to become accustomed to the idea of returning to the friendship they had enjoyed before they became lovers. In his absence her heart ached for him but she had been determined to maintain control of herself, keep her distance and honour her decision. He too kept his promise; he immersed himself in his church duties, spent time with his parishioners and took solace in prayer, whilst Katerina threw herself into supporting Olga and Anita after Ernestina’s death.

  ‘I think your grandmother would have liked us to give some of her clothes to charity,’ Katerina suggested to Anita, looking for small jobs around the house to keep her busy. Ernestina’s sudden death had affected the young woman and there was fear she might fall back into her earlier state of melancholia. The months of retreat, of good food and exercise at the sanatorium had done wonders for her physical health, which in turn had brought about a great improvement in her state of mind, so at last she was beginning to think less about the past and more about the present and her future. To Katerina’s relief Anita had concluded, while in the mountains, that marrying Costas had been a mistake and she should decide what to do about it.

  ‘The only thing I ever wanted from him,’ she admitted to Olga one night when Katerina was still with them at the sanatorium, ‘was the one thing he could never give me … not that I’m blaming him, but I often think that if Mario had lived we would have more than one child by now.’

  ‘Didn’t he make you happy for a while at least?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Not for long. I suppose I was looking for consolation after all I’d gone through.’ Anita let out a sigh. ‘I was naïve, Mother, I should have listened to my heart … it never belonged to Costas, it died with Mario.’

  ‘Oh my girl,’ Olga said and took Anita in her arms. ‘Don’t allow your heart to die. Love and happiness finds a way, and often in the most unexpected manner.’

  So trying to prevent Anita from suffering a relapse was helping Katerina forget her own broken heart until the discovery of her own pregnancy, and then the roles seemed to be reversed. Anita, alarmed to see the usually robust Katerina looking pale and frail, started to fuss over her.

  ‘You are eating like a bird these days,’ she scolded her as Katerina continued to cook for them but hardly ate anything herself. ‘You should follow your own advice, my friend; what is it you always tell me about food being good for the soul?’

  But what Anita didn’t know was that Katerina’s morning sickness was getting the better of her.

  Shortly after Katerina had realized that she was pregnant Padre Bernardino came to visit. Olga had invited him for tea to discuss a memorial plaque for Ernestina that she wanted to install in his church.

  ‘We haven’t seen the padre for a while,’ Olga remarked to Anita and Katerina, ‘and when he comes we must encourage him to continue his visits to us. We know how fond of Nonna he was, but we love him too, and what’s more we need him more than ever now.’

  ‘That is so true – he always knows what to say to us,’ Anita agreed as she and Katerina were busy sorting out Ernestina’s bedroom. She was going through some of her grandmother’s clothes from the big double-fronted oak wardrobe while Katerina was sorting out a tangle of necklaces in a jewellery box. ‘I think I’ve only seen him once since Nonna’s funeral and I do miss him. He is such a comfort to us all,’ she added. At the mention of the padre Katerina automatically brought her hands to her belly, letting go of the box she was holding which landed with a loud crash on the floor, spilling all its contents. She stood frozen, watching a shower of beads rolling all over the parquet. She hadn’t laid eyes on him for three weeks.

  He looked paler and thinner, his robe hanging loosely on his body. Katerina was in the kitchen when Olga let him in through the front door and she caught a glimpse of him in the hall. She felt faint at the sight of him; a mixture of joy and sorrow.

  ‘He’s here!’ she heard Anita call from the hall, then she rushed into the kitchen to help Katerina bring the tea and cakes to the saloni. Katerina stood rooted to the spot as if paralyzed, holding a plate of sesame koulourakia.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Anita looked at an ashen Katerina.

  ‘Nothing!’ she replied quickly, putting the plate back on the table, and she turned away to pick up the teapot, trying to steady her trembling hands. She wanted nothing more than to see him, to hear his voice, to sit by him, be near him, but the thought of it made her feel giddy and nauseous. Calm down, she scolded herself and, taking a deep breath, she turned to face Anita.

  Wearing a smile that hid her true feelings she followed her friend into the drawing room.

  Katerina wasn’t given to emotional outbursts. If she shed tears they were usually in moments of sadness, grief or happiness but she soon recovered her self-control. However, the turmoil that overcame her after the padre left them was alien to her. She managed to keep her composure throughout his visit, pouring tea, serving cake, busying herself in and out of the kitchen and even briefly participating in a little conversation. But the minute he left the house, her poise departed with him and without even clearing up in the kitchen she went to her room and burst into a deluge of tears and sobbing.

  The sound of crying reached Olga’s ears as she passed by Katerina’s bedroom. The noise was entirely unexpected. She was used to her daughters succumbing to tears but that was not Katerina’s way. She eased the door open a little and peeped into the room. Katerina was sitting on the edge of the bed hunched over with her head in her hands, sobbing. For a moment Olga was at a loss as to how to react and stood silently watching. Then pushing open the door she crossed the room and sat by the young woman’s side.

  ‘What is it, Katerina mou?’ she asked, putting an arm around the bent shoulders. ‘What happened?’ she repeated gently, mystified at what could possibly be wrong. Ernestina had been mourned well by all three of them; they had shed many tears since her death, and while at times they might shed a few more in her memory their grief didn’t warrant this outpour that Olga was now witnessing from Katerina. She sat silently holding her and waiting patiently for her sobbing to subside, hoping for an explanation. Whatever it was that was wrong, Olga knew it must be serious. Finally, Katerina turned to face her, eyes pleading.

  ‘I didn’t mean to love him,’ she said through her tears and covered her face again with both hands, ‘not in that way … Please forgive me,’ she whispered.

  ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ Olga asked gently, stroking her hair as Katerina’s sobs shook her body and her tears continued to fall. Olga waited; tears, she always said, had to be shed down to the last drop otherwise they would never dry.

  When Katerina finally stopped, Olga reached across and cupped her face in her hands.

  ‘Whatever it is, Katerina mou, I am here to listen. I am your friend, your mother, please talk to me … together we will find a way through. You know you can tell me; whatever this is.’

  Once she had started to speak Katerina’s secret came pouring out of her like blood from a flesh wound. As she spoke, Olga sat listening intently. What she was hearing rendered her motionless in disbelief, and silent for a long time. Finally,
she spoke.

  ‘Oh my dear girl, my dear, dear girl.’ She sat back and looked at the younger woman long and hard.

  Then she looked deep into Katerina’s eyes. ‘You have to remember one thing, Katerina mou: we don’t have control over who we fall in love with. When the arrow strikes us we are helpless.’

  Olga had lived a life against the grain of convention; she had always been a rebel and a nonconformist and prided herself at dealing with whatever life could throw at her, or her family. She was her father’s daughter. This was far from the easiest problem she had ever encountered, she was well aware of that, but deal with it she was determined she would, and she was grateful, even if she felt slightly guilty to admit it, that her mother was not there to witness this real crisis and potential scandal for the community. That, she knew, would have created a much bigger problem for them all.

  She loved Katerina like a daughter and since that day when she had rescued her from her pitiful life she had pledged to stand by her. This was not just Katerina’s predicament; it concerned them all. The priest was dear to her too, she loved and respected him for his kindness, humility and wisdom; she thought him a good man, which he was – a man. Olga had faith, but she had never shared her mother’s absolute religious convictions. ‘Faith without doubt is dogma,’ she’d argue and although she was born a Catholic, her upbringing in an Orthodox country had exposed her to a different doctrine and she welcomed the permission of marriage in priesthood. She believed that imposed celibacy was not compatible with human nature although she was also aware that if an Orthodox cleric wanted to achieve a high standard in Church then he too had to abide by the rule of celibacy. She was always one for discussion and for putting her views forward but on religious matters she had refrained from discussing too much with her mother; she knew it would distress her.

  She could see that Katerina’s love for the padre was unequivocal, the baby she was carrying was the proof of that love, but she accepted and understood the young woman’s heartfelt plea to keep the pregnancy a secret from him. As always Olga had made up her mind that, one way or another, she would find a solution, and an idea was already starting to take shape in her mind.

  17

  For two whole days Olga said nothing while Katerina waited in torments of anxiety. The head of the household mulled over her idea carefully in her head, examining it from one viewpoint and then from another until finally she was satisfied. Then she summoned Anita and Katerina to join her in the saloni for a talk.

  Still unsteady from the emotional turbulence caused by her confession, Katerina hadn’t spoken to Anita yet, uncertain of what to say, and was biding her time before revealing her secret to her friend. However, unbeknown to her, Olga had decided she must speak to her daughter before the three of them met, to see if Anita considered her idea acceptable; then together they might be able to present it with conviction to Katerina. It was radical, it was daring, she was prepared to hear objections, but Olga could think of no other way to preserve Katerina’s honour and keep the baby.

  The combination of dread and morning sickness made Katerina’s nausea almost unbearable. She sat motionless, her breathing shallow, her head swirling while Olga explained her proposal. A soft breeze blew in from the open window, carrying with it the sound of children playing in the street. Katerina was oblivious to all of it, focusing her mental and emotional energy on listening to Olga and trying to comprehend what she was saying to her. She waited silently until the older woman had finished talking before attempting to say something in response, but when she tried to speak she found she had no voice, or breath, to utter a word. She looked at the two women sitting on either side of her; the suggestion that had just been outlined to her was unforeseen and profound. She could never have anticipated, or imagined it. She was filled, all at once, with a mixture of shock, relief and gratitude in equal measure. These women were her entire world, and now that she needed them more than ever they were by her side again. Her heart swelled with affection for them both. Gradually regaining her voice, she asked Olga to repeat what she had just told her. She needed to hear it all again, to understand fully.

  ‘So you see, my darling girl,’ Olga concluded, unsure of what Katerina made of her plan, ‘this way we keep the blessed baby with us – it will be our child, and we will love and cherish it as it deserves. No one, apart from us, will ever know or suspect that the baby is not Anita’s but yours. All that matters is that we will know and he or she will be loved three times over!’

  Katerina absorbed everything she was being told like nourishment. She sat quietly listening, all her senses on high alert. She needed to think. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine the scenario, an internal monologue going on inside her trying to find possible loopholes.

  ‘What about Costas?’ she suddenly said, as if talking to herself. She knew that Anita hadn’t shared a bed with him for over a year. ‘He would know, wouldn’t he?’

  Olga darted a conspiratorial look at her daughter.

  ‘Yes … well … Costas …’ Anita began, cheeks flushed. ‘There is only one way we can manage this. Whatever my feelings about him now, there is only one way and that is …’ She hesitated for a second. ‘I have to make Costas think the baby is his!’

  The shock that showed on Katerina’s face vividly expressed what she thought of the idea.

  ‘Costas is a mere detail!’ Olga hurried to add, seeing her reaction and intervening before the young woman had time to object. ‘Without knowing it he will help us achieve our aim and I am certain he would not want to rejoin the household and become a family man. He’s far too comfortable with his bachelor life in Nicosia.’ She looked from Katerina to Anita and went on, ‘In fact, I guarantee this will give him all the more reason to stay away!’

  ‘Mother is right,’ Anita agreed, ‘he never wanted children, it was always me who insisted … he has no idea that the effect of my last miscarriage has left me unable to get pregnant again … and in any case I’ve made up my mind. After we have the baby I want to divorce him!’

  ‘So you see, Katerina mou …’ Olga cut in again, eager to explain the rest of the plan. ‘Before your belly starts to grow,’ she lowered her voice and moved closer, ‘you and Anita will go to Vienna to stay with Sonia until the baby arrives. I will tell everyone that Anita has fallen pregnant again and that she will have a better chance of carrying the baby to full term in Austria under their far superior medical care. Naturally you will be going with her to help.’

  There was a lot to consider, but Olga seemed to have thought of everything.

  Katerina sat quietly absorbing the many aspects of this bold plan, looking for possible obstacles. Another thought struck her.

  ‘What about Nicos?’ She took a sharp intake of breath and brought her hand to her mouth. ‘What will we tell him?’

  ‘Nicos doesn’t need to know anything that we haven’t told anyone else!’ Olga rushed to reply. ‘He’s not in Vienna, he’s in Cyprus now, remember? He won’t be a problem. He will know only what we tell him.’

  With everything that was going on it had completely slipped Katerina’s mind that Nicos had recently returned to Larnaka to run the family business following his father’s illness, and of course Sonia would always guard their secret. It was true, Olga had indeed thought of everything.

  ‘I’m not worried about Nicos,’ the older woman went on, ‘he’s far too preoccupied with his own family dramas to pay attention to us. He’ll be pleased that Sonia will have some company.’

  The more they talked about it, the more possible it all sounded. Olga appeared to have worked her plan out well.

  ‘I will travel to Vienna with the two of you,’ she explained, ‘in order to find a doctor and a hospital where you can have the baby. After the birth Sonia will look after you, and then you, Anita and the baby will travel back to Cyprus together.’ Olga looked at Katerina. ‘So you see?’ she said and clapped her hands with satisfaction. ‘Simple! Who will ever know, apart from us, that you gave
birth instead of Anita?’

  In a matter of a few hours Katerina’s life took a turn that she could never have anticipated. All through her sleepless nights and fretful days worrying about how she was going to cope, what Olga had suggested would never have entered her mind as a possibility. She went from preparing herself to face whatever hardships life was going to throw at her alone, to the comfort of knowing she would remain in the loving fold of her adopted family to raise her baby with the help of the women she loved most in the world.

  What does it matter, she told herself, who the child calls ‘Mama’? It will be a lucky baby adored by three women. All that mattered was that her son or daughter would have a loving home and she would be there every day of her child’s life watching it grow up in an environment of tenderness, security and acceptance.

  18

  After Anita’s early pleasure in her marriage to Costas, their initial physical attraction had faded and she had only encouraged sex with him in the hopes of starting a family. Since her miscarriage and illness she had avoided physical contact with him but if they were going to carry out their plan and make it a success she had to change her approach – and make it convincing. Seduction wasn’t a form of behaviour that came naturally to Anita, but she knew there was no other way. She had come to find his presence tedious and irritating and was thankful she only had to see him once in a while as he was now spending most of his time in Nicosia with his ‘dubious cronies’, as Olga referred to Petros and his ilk.

  Anita decided the solution to her predicament must be to somehow revive those early days before she became ill; to think herself back to the time when they had lived as man and wife.

  ‘I did have feelings for him once,’ she told Olga and Katerina when they were discussing how to achieve their aim. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure up an image from the early days.