Among the Lemon Trees

by Nadia Marks

  At that moment in time, the last person on earth Anna expected, or wanted, to hear from was her husband. Before parting they pledged to give each other space, time to think, and they had both kept that promise. This phone call was not part of the plan. So, why was Max calling now? Anna took the receiver with trembling hands.

  ‘Anna!’ Max’s voice was deep and serious and vibrated down the line. ‘How are you? Alexis said you were asleep.’

  ‘Yes, I mean no. How are you?’ she said, her heart beating furiously. ‘Have you heard from Chloe and Alex?’ she carried on at a loss as to what else to say.

  ‘No, not a thing, but I’m sure they are fine.’ Max continued in the same serious voice. ‘Chloe is back from California and she’s met up with Alex somewhere in the south of France. They are with Charlie and Emma now, camping.’

  Charlie and Emma were the children of Anna and Max’s closest friends and the four of them had been inseparable since childhood. Their parents, Pam and Jo, had spent many a summer holiday with them on the island when the children were young. Now the teenagers were happy to leave their parents behind and make their own holiday arrangements. When they had first announced their camping intentions Anna had been anxious.

  ‘How safe will it be with no adults around?’ she worried.

  ‘Mum! Get a grip!’ Alex teased her. ‘How old do you have to be in your opinion to be considered an adult? Chloe is eighteen now, she’s practically a pensioner!’

  ‘Chloe sent a couple of emails from San Francisco and Dad had a postcard,’ Anna said, amazed at the banality of the conversation. ‘They both seem to be having a great time.’

  ‘Yes, well, how are you, Anna?’

  ‘I’m fine, Max,’ she replied, trying to sound normal. ‘And you? How are you?’

  ‘I’m OK, yes, OK. I’ve done a lot of thinking, a lot of it. I’d like to come to the island; I’d like to see you, Anna. We need to talk. I’ve missed you. What do you think, will you see me?’

  11

  Anna could feel her stomach twisting into a tight ball, making her want to double over with pain. Stress always hit her that way; either she doubled over or felt like throwing up. This time it was both. The phone call from Max unsettled her more than she could ever imagine. Her mind was racing and so was her heart. Anna couldn’t remember a time that she hadn’t been delighted to hear from her husband or happy to see him. Now, all that came to mind was that this was such bad timing. Max couldn’t come now, not now, she couldn’t face him, she didn’t want to face him. She was the one confused now. There was so much to think about, deal with, work out. Every cell in her body screamed, ‘NO MAX, DON’T COME. NOT YET!’ She had been on the island for two months and quite a lot of days, but to her it seemed like only a couple of weeks. She needed more time, she still didn’t know how she felt about everything and she definitely wasn’t ready to make any decisions. But she said nothing; she couldn’t.

  ‘Is everything all right, Anna?’ Alexis asked after she put the receiver down. Her face had betrayed her. ‘The children? Are they OK?’ He asked again in Greek, worry etched on his brow.

  ‘No. I mean yes, everything is OK, Papa, there’s no problem, nothing’s wrong,’ she replied, trying to recover her composure and steady her voice. ‘Max said he’d like to come and visit us for a few days, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, but that’s wonderful news,’ he said with relief.

  Had Max sensed that something was up, Anna wondered? She knew all about ‘a woman’s intuition’ or ‘a woman’s instinct’, but she had never heard it said of a man. When Max told her of his affair she had been oblivious to it, she didn’t sense a thing. Did Max have an intuition about her? Is that what made him pick up the phone? All kinds of slightly paranoid thoughts whizzed through her mind while she hurriedly got dressed, anxious to leave the house before Alexis started chatting and asking questions.

  In a state of mild panic Anna made her way down the hill, trying to put her thoughts in order.

  The walk was doing her good. She needed to be alone. The morning breeze was beginning to clear her head and calm her nerves. In an attempt to exercise reason she kept telling herself that she was being a touch melodramatic. Max couldn’t know or sense anything; he was two thousand miles away. And what if he did? She concluded, he didn’t have much of a right to say anything to her anyway! Max had told her he’d done a lot of thinking, but then so had Anna. Perhaps now it was time to get serious; time to share those thoughts and take charge of the situation.

  Halfway down the hill the sound of a car and the blast of its horn made her turn round. Antonis’s Mercedes was thundering down the road in a cloud of dust after her, making sure her solitude wasn’t going to last long.

  ‘Yia sou, Annoula!’ he said, leaning out of the window as he pulled up. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been trying to find you. I called Manos and he said he didn’t know.’

  ‘I haven’t been anywhere,’ she replied, looking at him in disbelief. If she wasn’t so discombobulated she would have burst out laughing. She’d been out of sight for just over twenty-four hours, and everyone was looking for her? But, as she was constantly reminded, this was a very small island.

  ‘Jump in, we’ll go to the square for coffee. Have you had breakfast?’ he said, reaching for his mobile. ‘I’ll call Manos to join us.’

  Anna felt a pang in her heart. Dear Antonis, she thought, always cheerful, always good-natured and always generous. What a ridiculous situation to be in. As much as she wanted to be alone she didn’t have the heart to refuse him. In years to come, she thought, as she was getting in the car, perhaps she’d look back at all of this and even manage a smile. Right now though, Anna felt she had very little to smile about.

  When they arrived at the square Manos was already sitting at their usual table.

  ‘Finally we see you!’ he teased, standing up to give his cousin a kiss. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘What is it with you two?’ Anna replied, feeling irritated but trying to adopt the same jovial tone as him. ‘I’ve been doing what I’ve done every day for the past few weeks, working! Remember?’ she lied.

  ‘It’s just that you left the taverna in a hurry the other night and we haven’t seen you since.’

  ‘Precisely! It was just the other night, the night before last to be exact. Do I have to account for all my movements to you too? Don’t you think I’ve got enough with my dad on my case?’

  ‘Enough of your arguing, little cousins,’ Antonis interrupted, laughing. ‘We have more important things to discuss.’

  Over coffee and freshly baked tiropita, which Anna couldn’t eat, her stomach still tied in knots, Antonis informed them excitedly that he was busy arranging a moonlit beach party to take place soon.

  ‘There are only a few days till August’s full moon,’ he said, giving one of his dazzling smiles, ‘and since you, Miss Anna, refuse to come on the boat with me we’ll do it on the beach and everyone is invited. Remember what I told you about August moon?’

  ‘Of course I remember, how could I forget?’ she replied, but hoped that perhaps he had.

  All Anna could think of after she left the cafe were the words of Stan Laurel: ‘Here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into.’ Laurel at least had Hardy to blame for all his mishaps, but who did she have? The only person she could blame was herself. What was she thinking of? She’d come to the island to be with her father and sort herself out, not get into a ridiculous mess. How was she going to get out of this? Her husband turning up any day now, presumably to discuss where they were going with their life; Antonis planning romance and celebrations on a moonbeam; and Nicos expecting her in his studio to make passionate love any minute. It was all too much. Where was this all going to end and did she actually want any of it? Her brain was a scramble. She’d been so wrapped up with herself for so many weeks she was beginning to lose the plot, whatever the plot was. She’d been furious with Max for behaving like a juvenile and now she was doing the same.
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br />   When Anna finally left her friends, who gave her no alternative but to agree to meet them that evening in the Black Turtle, she discovered that she had walked to her aunt’s house again. Her feet just took her there without her even realizing it until she arrived on the doorstep.

  This time her aunt was at home, her back door open. Anna followed the gentle hum of the Singer sewing machine and found Ourania busy mending one of Alexis’s shirts.

  ‘Hello, Anna,’ she said without looking up until she finished the stitch. ‘What brings you here this morning? Are you not working today?’

  ‘I’m not sure, Thia, I don’t think so . . .’ Anna’s voice trailed off.

  ‘What is wrong, Annoula mou?’ Ourania said, turning round to look at her niece. ‘You look upset. Did something happen? Is Alexis all right?’ She started to get up. This time Anna could hear alarm in her voice.

  ‘No, no, he’s fine, Thia, don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with him,’ Anna said and realized that she must have given her poor aunt a fright appearing out of nowhere like that.

  ‘Then what is wrong, Annoula mou?’ she asked again and taking both of Anna’s hands in hers she gently pulled her towards the window seat. Anna knew she was feeling upset, but she had no idea she also showed it.

  ‘Nothing’s wrong, Thia, I promise, I just wanted to see you,’ she hurriedly replied and then quickly added, ‘Max is coming for a few days, he phoned this morning.’

  ‘Well that’s good news, isn’t it?’ Ourania said, looking at her niece with surprise. She held her gaze for a while, searching her face.

  ‘Are you happy he’s coming, Anna?’ she added, and reached across to stroke the younger woman’s cheek. Anna found this gesture, this loving touch, which reminded her of her mother, too much to bear. The emotion made her heart ache and once more, for the second time in that very room, the tears started pouring out of her.

  ‘Do you want to tell me what’s the matter, Annoula?’ Ourania said softly.

  ‘Oh Thia mou, it’s nothing. It’s just that . . . it’s just that I’m so confused,’ she said through her tears, like the little girl her aunt had made her feel with that simple gesture of hers.

  ‘I understand if you’d rather not talk; you just have a good cry if that makes you feel better,’ she said, stroking her hair.

  Anna stayed in her aunt’s soothing arms for a long time; neither of them said or did anything. She let her tears flow and her mind gently drift and thought of how this woman had surprised her yet again with her understanding and compassion. Anna had assumed that her aunt would press her to talk, to confide, to try and find a solution to whatever her problem was. That’s what her mother would have done. But Ourania, even though Anna considered her as almost her mother, was not her. It also occurred to Anna that perhaps only a woman who herself has had a secret to protect would be so understanding, so stoic, so discreet. As her mind drifted, Anna’s eyes lingered on the old dressing-up trunk across the room.

  Did her Thia Ourania still feel somewhere in her heart that love of long ago and did her lover’s letters still make her heart swell with joy when she read them? Why should age, Anna wondered, diminish what her aunt had once, or take away the memory of the young vibrant woman she’d been, so full of passion and sexual desire, capable of inspiring words of love to be written about her?

  After what seemed like a long time of contemplation, Ourania got up and went to the kitchen to bring them both some coffee and food. When she returned she set the tray down on the little wooden stool by their feet and while they ate, they started to talk. They talked for as long as they were silent, and more; they talked well into the late afternoon.

  They spoke about loss and sadness, about separation and love, about family and the passage of time. Two women from two different generations, different times, different worlds, but nevertheless two women with shared emotions. It would seem that fundamental human feelings never change, no matter how many years come to pass. To Anna’s surprise she discovered she was able to talk to her aunt like never before. The knowledge that she had been moved by love and passion and had known conflict and sadness in her life made Anna really open up, believing that her aunt might understand her better than in the past. She didn’t talk about Nicos of course, or go into too much detail about her problems with Max. But she did tell her about how their marriage was going through a crisis, her sense of confusion and how she came to the island to give them both space to think.

  ‘I do feel love for Max,’ she said taking a sip of water. ‘We’ve been together for so long, we are family, we have two beautiful children, we have built a life together, we have shared so much so how can I not care, yet . . . I don’t know if you can understand this, Thia, but sometimes things happen and everything changes and so do your feelings.’

  ‘There are times,’ Ourania said and cupped her warm hand over Anna’s, ‘that even if you love someone very deeply, you need to leave them, get away from them, no matter what the reasons are.’

  Suddenly, looking across to the trunk, Anna decided that maybe this was the time she could ask her aunt about the letters. Own up to her about her unexpected discovery, apologize for her indiscretion. If she didn’t want to talk about it then Anna would understand, she too would be stoic; but she felt she had to at least try and find out; she needed to know. Anna felt the knowledge would bring them even closer.

  At first she said nothing. The silence was acute; it hovered in the room like mist. All the while Anna held her breath and waited, unsure how her aunt was going to respond to the question. Still she said nothing. Then, after a time, she slowly stood up and walked over to the trunk. She knelt down as if in prayer, opened the lid and plunging her arms into its depth pulled out the box. She held it in both hands and, cradling it, walked back to the window seat. The only audible sound for many moments was the clock on the wall.

  ‘These letters,’ she finally said, pointing to the box on her lap, ‘kept me alive for many years. It was a powerful love. There was no escape from it.’

  ‘Did he ever come back?’ Anna asked, uncertain if she should.

  ‘He never really left, Anna mou; you see, he stayed always in my heart.’

  ‘Did anyone know? Did you tell anyone about it?’ Anna asked again, wondering what consequences a secret love affair would have had in that society over sixty years ago.

  ‘It was no one’s business,’ she said and pulled the box closer.

  ‘Not even years later? After a time, did you not want to speak about it? What about my dad or my mum?’ Anna asked, hoping she wasn’t overdoing the inquisition. She knew Ourania and Alexis had always been good friends and Anna wanted to think that perhaps she’d had an ally in her father, like she had in her cousin Manos.

  ‘Your father and my sister Calliope were the only ones who ever knew, the only ones I ever trusted,’ Ourania said.

  ‘Would you tell me about him?’ Anna asked again, gingerly.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she replied, reaching across to squeeze her niece’s hand. ‘Not now, Anna mou, not yet, perhaps another time.’

  Even though Ourania didn’t reveal very much, Anna was overjoyed to have been told anything at all. She had taken a gamble, she had crossed the line, in asking her all those questions. It was obvious that her feelings about her love affair were deeply private and that she had spent a lifetime protecting them. Anna felt privileged and lucky to have been allowed even a little glimpse into her aunt’s past. What also pleased her was the discovery that Alexis had indeed been as good a friend to her as she’d hoped.

  By the time Anna left her aunt’s house, all she had time to do was rush home, say hello to her father and get changed in time for Manos to pick her up and drive them to the Black Turtle. She would have liked to visit Nicos beforehand but there’d been no time and she was pleased to learn from her cousin that he was joining them that evening. She felt excited and nervous about seeing him again.

  Nicos was already sitting on a bar stool scanning
the door with an anxious expression when they walked in, a glass of red wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The minute he saw Anna a smile spread across his face.

  ‘There you are!’ he said, jumping off the stool to walk towards them. As much as Anna would have liked to have given him a great big hug, she held back, they both did, and instead gave each other the customary kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Where have you been?’ he said, taking her arm. ‘I hoped you might have come to see me.’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ Anna replied, ‘and now I could really do with a drink.’

  That night they had one of their best Black Turtle evenings. There was a big crowd and everyone was in high spirits. The music played on, all the old island favourites. The food kept coming, delicious dishes of meze appearing on the table all night. The highlight was a plate of chicken livers cooked in what Anna thought tasted like nectar but eventually, after much probing, Antonis revealed was pomegranate juice, a secret recipe handed down by his grandmother. The wine flowed, ice-cold retsina, Anna’s favourite, and so did the bonhomie between everyone. The place was packed with not only the usual foreign tourists but also with Greek visitors from the mainland on their August break. Antonis, busy helping with service, didn’t sit with them but made sure there was never an empty bottle on their table. They all sang and all danced that night, and Anna got thoroughly drunk. She did not remember the last time that had happened to her. ‘As a rule,’ she kept telling everyone, ‘I’m not given to drunkenness, not because I’m such a good girl but because it makes me feel ill if I overdo it.’ But that night, overdo it she did!

  The side effects of her overindulgence stayed with Anna for the whole of the next day, which ended up being a very good thing because it forced her to do something she hadn’t managed since arriving on the island. She finally spent some quiet time at home and with her father. One of the reasons she’d gone there was to be with him, but instead she’d run around like a teenager, gone out all the time, argued with him, and stayed up late. The most she’d done was to spend some fleeting moments together instead of the quality time she had promised herself.