She nodded, gathered up her bag and jacket and stood there, staring at the floor. It was sad to see.
It was a subdued walk down to the quayside. The rain had stopped and watery sun was breaking through clouds. There was only a gentle wind and no one hiding from the rain in the cafés. It was sparkling, with the clean air that only a heavy overnight downpour can bring. The sea was a paler blue today but still topped with white caps which chased each other up onto the sand as we rounded the corner. Leo brushed my hand with his fingers as we walked and I felt a pleasurable twinge, low in the groin. I smiled at him. Later, Romeo.
I took a deep breath to calm down before the five of us trooped into the taverna and stood in a huddle until Maria pushed two tables together in the window. I knew I needed to think about what had happened to Cassia’s brother, and to figure out a bit more about Leo’s business plans, but there was time for that later.
Maria came back out from the kitchen with a tray of freshly-baked cheese pies balanced in one hand. She glanced at the clock. ‘Short lesson today? Are they so good they don’t need you anymore, Cassia?’ She stopped short when she saw Cassia’s face and spoke in rapid Greek to our teacher, who responded equally quickly. I caught most of it.
Then Maria just dropped the tray on the counter, shouted to Spiros up the stairs and they disappeared into the kitchen when he staggered down. He looked like he hadn’t slept. Maria had looked like she was about to explode while she waited for him at the foot of the stairs and she did, all over him once they were shut in the kitchen. Pity I couldn’t hear it, but the intent was clear. It was low and vicious on both sides. I’d heard my parents arguing like this when I was a kid, and I hadn’t understood it then either.
‘What just happened, Cassia?’ I asked.
Cassia dropped her heavy bag on the floor and sank into a chair. She shrugged. ‘I told her who did it.’ She got back up and went to the ladies’ bathroom.
‘She knows? Can’t we call the police?’ I looked to Leo but he was focused on the door where Spiros had disappeared into the kitchen, and was tapping his chin with his fingers. I felt a cold shiver on that warm day. Surely that could not be true? Not Spiros. But Leo met my gaze, and there was no humour in his eyes. He shook his head at me, so I didn’t say anything.
Alex took my elbow. ‘Here, sit down and we can order when one of them returns. Cathy, take a seat.’ He too, looked grim.
I sat, Leo pulling his chair close to mine. I could smell the cheese pies, an aroma that would normally have me salivating, but I felt a bit numb. I’d found out far more this morning than I wanted to know about this island and some of the people on it.
Maria bustled out of the kitchen, took our orders without a comment or a sly glance in my direction. She served us quickly and disappeared back into the kitchen. Something was definitely wrong.
The cheese pies were, of course, delicious, and even Cassia cheered up when Cathy suggested taking a couple for her brother. We were quick, and Maria wouldn’t accept any money for the food and drinks, she simply ushered us out of the taverna. I’d seen some of her black moods over the past few weeks, but this was different, she looked furious.
‘Cassia, why was Maria so angry with Spiros?’
Cassia dipped her head. ‘I cannot say, Anna. I cannot say.’ She checked her phone for messages to avoid talking to me.
That wasn’t the same as ‘I don’t know’, was it? Not remotely the same.
7
As a child on holiday I had travelled all over the island with my mother and grandmother on buses. I’d had no idea who they were gossiping about, or who we were going to visit, so I would stare out of the window at the wild scenery of the central island. There is no such thing as a straight road here. As soon as you get off the main coast road, terrain determines direction. The mountains are steep and the granite rock so hard that roads can’t go through them; instead they go over and round, in a mad zigzag which offers stunning views, and an upset stomach if you happen to be travelling in the back of a car.
Returning as an adult, I saw it all with very different eyes. The fields and farms, rock walls and canyons told of a tough, hard past, where the people hacked their living from the stone. Now, goats grazed along the paths and up the sides of the hills, fields were tamed, with fruit and olive trees supplementing their income. Tiny spring flowers, white and yellow, pushed their way through snow as we reached the top of the mountain road. Old broken-down huts, once the winter homes of shepherds, stood empty and neglected, slowly going back into the land. ‘It’s so cold up here.’
Cassia said, ‘There is snow in the mountains until May or even June sometimes. You will learn that Crete has its own climate, Anna. I would not get caught out in the mountains without suitable clothing. Many tourists get into trouble up here.’
‘I’ll remember that. It is beautiful, though, isn’t it?’
‘It is, and a very different place to the towns. It is, in a way, the real Crete, away from the tourists. Town law does not apply in the mountains.’
‘It doesn’t apply in the towns much either,’ said Leo, and I sank back into my seat.
I couldn’t help noticing that the road signs had gunshot holes in them. Evidence of teenage overexcitement, I hoped, rather than the mountain people taking the law into their own hands. There weren’t many cultures, I guessed, that gave their sons a gun on their fifteenth birthday.
Leo didn’t speak much after that; he had to concentrate to stay on the road. Neither did Cassia, which was understandable. So I had time to think about setting up businesses on the island. It wasn’t just Leo’s problem, was it? I had sort of set up a business, too. I had been working only the night before. But if I took on a contract from Leo, I would then be a legitimate business owner on the island. I had to get back and hassle the man at the town hall as I was working illegally at the moment. I didn’t have to pay rent, like Cassia’s brother, but I didn’t want to upset anyone, either. Not if it went as badly as this. The thought drifted through that I could keep quiet, do my work online and tell nobody. But that wouldn’t work. I have no ‘stop and think’ filters – as soon as someone asked me what I did for a living I’d be all over them with detail – how could that stay secret for long? No, for me, the right way was the only way, otherwise I couldn’t sleep at night.
I wasn’t looking forward to seeing what those thugs had done to Constantinos’ business, and I couldn’t help worrying about the elderly neighbours, who had possibly lost everything.
‘Are you from Athens, originally, Cassia?’ I asked, trying to take my mind off the fire.
She turned slightly in her seat. ‘Yes, we came over together a few years ago, after university. We are twins, as you will see.’ She sniffed and wiped her nose again. ‘My training is as a human rights lawyer, and I wanted to set up practice here, but, in the current climate, that is very difficult, so I have been teaching to give me some income, and volunteering at a law practice in Chania.’
Leo said, ‘That way your face becomes known and you might be able to get a paid job.’
‘Yes, you understand. It is the way things are done here. My difficulty is that I want to help refugees with their claims for asylum, and they are very unpopular in Greece.’
‘Not just in Greece,’ I said. ‘So your job is likely to upset the local business people?’
‘No, it is the opposite. Much of the crime here is committed by people coming across the water to make a killing. They are not asylum seekers, they are drug runners and people smugglers. They are the people I want to fight, and Mr K is with me on that. That is why I am so upset about what he did to Tino.’
‘You know who the guy behind all this is?’ I may have squealed that last word. ‘Have you told the police? And who is he?’
Cassia and Leo shared a look. I hate it when people do that. ‘What? What am I missing?’ I pulled myself forward between the front seats.
‘Can we have this conversation when I’m not driving round ridiculous bends
in a hire car, please?’ he asked, and glanced at me in the rear-view mirror.
I subsided back into my seat. I didn’t like the way this was going at all. Not one bit. What had I got myself tangled up in?
I suddenly remembered the look on my father’s face as I told him I was going to accept Grandmother’s house and move to Crete. He glared at Mum in a way I’d never seen him look at anyone, and spat out ‘See? See what you have done?’ I couldn’t make sense of it then; it was only a house and I was able to fly home anytime. But maybe I was beginning to understand why Dad had moved away never to return. If he wouldn’t co-operate with someone like ‘Mr K’ all those years ago, then perhaps he had no choice. I had a pang of homesickness to go with my car sickness.
Paleochora is called the jewel of the south coast, and it really is beautiful even early in the season. It was a rocky approach down through the mountains, and then the low white houses ranged back up the road towards us and a small town filled the flat land between mountain and sea. Flowers spilled from containers and baskets and scented the roads. Young trees were bursting with buds, ready to flower. It was beautiful, and peaceful. We drove along the main road, with the sea lapping against the shore on our left and I looked longingly at the sheltered cafés along the beach. Couldn’t we just stop there, and not go to see the ruin of Constantinos’ place?
Leo followed Cassia’s directions towards the end of the long beach and up a small side street where he parked the car and I staggered out, gulping in fresh air and trying not to throw up. I’ve never been good in the back of cars, but that journey had been a killer.
I smelt the smoke immediately, and not just from the cigarette Leo had lit as soon as he stepped out of the car. Ahead, in a small public square lined with trees and benches in the middle, a fire engine finished its work and police directed people away from the two burnt-out buildings.
Cassia ran ahead, scanning for her brother, but I saw him first. It was hard to miss him. The same slight, willowy figure as his sister, but with an arm in plaster and a face already coming up blue and black. ‘He’s over there,’ I said, tugging at her arm.
Constantinos was sitting on a bench directly opposite the wreck of his café and home. Cassia ran to him and touched his face. He hardly responded.
Next to him sat an elderly couple dressed in black. The wife openly weeping, the husband coughing out hard sighs.
‘These people brought me to get you, Tino,’ Cassia said to her brother.
He looked at her and gave a sad little smile. ‘Well, I have nowhere else left to go.’
I found Leo’s hand. It was desperate. We watched the end of the clean-up and got out of the way when the police and fire engine drove past us back down the road. The café was ruined, as was the little house that was attached to it. Only rafters remained to show that they had once been dwellings. The designer in me wanted to start planning a rebuild, to help them make it better, but I knew it was a futile effort to help to put things right in a place where they could never be right.
I could feel Leo’s anger radiating from him; he was crushing my fingers. ‘Ow,’ I said and he turned to me. But he couldn’t see me, he’d gone somewhere else. Imagining what might happen to his own dreams if he couldn’t pay up, no doubt.
I extricated myself and squatted down next to Cassia and her brother. I marvelled at the close resemblance between them. ‘I’m so sorry, Constantino,’ I said. Maybe I should have come up with something better, but I was, really was. It was a disaster. I couldn’t bear to look at the old couple, but I did, and patted the weeping woman on the hand. She smiled her thanks, but I felt totally wretched.
‘Tino,’ he replied. ‘Tino is fine.’
‘I’d like to help if I can,’ I said, but it was difficult to see how. Wouldn’t stop me trying though.
‘Thanks for bringing me over the mountain,’ said Cassia to Leo, who loomed above us.
Leo still wasn’t really present, but he shook Tinos’ hand and muttered a few words at him. The burning had shaken him more than I expected. He always seemed so self-assured, with that clean-cut American gloss about him. Did Mr K have something to do with him, too? Perhaps my American fling wasn’t quite the man he tried to portray.
‘Coffee is needed,’ I said, standing up on knees that creaked a bit. ‘Will you both come with us?’
‘Could I have an hour or so with my brother,’ asked Cassia, ‘and then maybe we could have lunch before we go back? We have a few things to sort out.’ She took his good hand and squeezed it. ‘I have brought pies from Maria, you should eat something.’ She opened the paper bag and placed it on his lap but he didn’t look at them.
Quietly, Cassia passed the pies to the elderly couple. The woman nodded her thanks, and said in Greek, ‘We have nothing left.’
‘No family?’ I asked, horrified that they would be alone to face this ruin.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, ‘my sister will help, but for now we stay at the taverna.’ She gestured behind. ‘We are not ready to go yet.’
It was time for us to go, though. I felt we were intruding by hanging around offering pointless platitudes. We arranged to meet at a restaurant nearby and I walked Leo back to the seafront and a café that promised good European coffee. Don’t get me wrong, I love almost everything Cretan, but I wanted a proper cappuccino, with froth, and one that wasn’t too bitter, or too sweet. Not easy to come by. The best coffee I’d had so far was near the bus station in Heraklion, which, at more than a hundred miles away, was a bit far to travel for a morning cuppa. Besides, I wanted to take my mind off the sadness and find out about this Mr K character.
‘Right, Leo Arakis, tell me what you know,’ I said as soon as the waiter had moved away. ‘Spare me nothing. I already feel like a total dimwit, so enlighten me. Who is “Mr K”, for a start?’
Leo sipped at his coffee and gave a little nod of approval. ‘There was no reason for you to know about him, that’s all. He’s a landlord, and a landowner and owner of several other major businesses in the area. Quite the big man in these parts.’ Leo took another sip, drew hard on his cigarette, then blew smoke straight at me. ‘His name is Nikos Kokorakis, and he lives in Kissamos, not far from you. I know about him because he is the owner of the house and land I want to buy. But I don’t like his tactics much.’
‘He lives in my town? Wow. But his name is almost the same as yours. Are you related to him?’
‘No! Are you related to everyone called Georgiou? Listen, Anna, when the Turks occupied Crete, they gave all the residents the surname “Akis”. It means “small”. It was a way of subjugating them, I think. So there are lots of people in Crete whose names end that way. It’s your family name that is from elsewhere in Greece.’ He calmed down a bit. ‘Yes, I agree, my family are definitely from this island, so who knows who I’m related to?’
‘So you do have connections on the island despite what you told Maria at the taverna? That’s quite exciting!’
He shifted on the hard chair. ‘I don’t know if I have anybody still here. My father embraced America and we holidayed in Florida, and never came back over here. It’s a long, long way. Dad’s not the sort of guy who would keep in touch for old times’ sake. And then we grew up, and my eldest brother took over the running of the restaurant chain, and my youngest brother trained as a chef, and I…’ He shrugged.
‘You felt that you didn’t fit into the mould that had been prepared for you?’
‘Exactly. I was involved in acquiring land and setting up new restaurants, but there was nothing in it for me except a wage. I want to be in charge of my own project, Anna. I want to deliver for myself, and not work my butt off so all that I have achieved goes to my older brother when my father dies.’
‘That’s a bit eighteenth century, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you share the business with your brothers when your father dies?’
‘You’d think, wouldn’t you?’ His mouth twisted into a tight grimace. ‘You know what they say; you can take the boy out of Crete, b
ut you can’t get Crete out of the boy. And that is so true of my father. Me and my younger brother would get money, but not the business. “It’s how it has always been”, he said. So, I asked for the money straight away, and decided to come back to somewhere where I might have some roots, and try to start a new life while I’m young enough to do it.’
‘And was your dad happy with that?’
Leo guffawed. ‘Oh Christ, no! It was horrendous. I felt most sorry for Mom, who was caught in the middle. He did give me my share, but he refused to allow me to come to Crete, and then cut me off because I came anyway.’ He stared directly into my eyes. ‘Anna, I’m thirty-two years old; he doesn’t get to answer for me anymore.’
‘And now you find that a guy who will burn down your house if you default on the rent is the owner of the land you want to buy? No wonder you’re upset.’ I took his hand. He really had burnt all his bridges, hadn’t he? Seeing what Kokorakis had done to Tinos must have been a shock. ‘I’m so sorry, Leo. But, you know, there’s no reason why you won’t succeed here. You have a great concept in the restaurant with a casino. Kissamos needs something a bit more upmarket. You’ll have to charm Mr K.’ He didn’t respond.
I gave his hand a shake. ‘Come on, snap out of it. You can do this!’
I was wasting my breath.
Cassia arrived towing her brother by the arm, and we walked into town for lunch. It was fine, I chatted away and made small talk with Cassia, and we both pretended that the men with us weren’t lost in different thoughts entirely. It was pleasant to be in such a beautiful place without the usual thousands of tourists cluttering the place up with hire cars and bikes, but I was glad to set off for home as the afternoon wore on.
Those You Trust: compelling women's psychological fiction Page 5
