by Jo Thomas
‘You want to start a fire?’ I say.
‘Not a fire. A number of little ones, dotted along the mountain edge. That way, when the wind picks up and creates lots of smoke, they’ll think the mountainside is ablaze.’
I feel my hands starting to shake. I remember the sound of the fire as it took hold of the factory. You couldn’t hear it at first, as Noddy Holder was blaring out and the girls from packing were singing along – well, more like shrieking. And the smell . . .
‘Nell? Look, if you don’t want to do it, I could just use the bird scarer. Fire off rounds. Hope they’ll be put off.’
‘No, it needs more than that.’ I swallow. ‘They look like they’re ready to take on an army. Let’s do it!’
He breaks into a smile and I find myself doing the same. Adrenalin scoots through my body like a roller-coaster ride, dipping and turning, zooming so fast it feels like my senses have been left behind, and I think they probably have! Then, breathing heavily, he takes my face in his hands and gazes at me. ‘You are one amazing woman,’ he says, his jewelled eyes intense, and the adrenalin surges and what I really want to do is reach up and kiss him, like my life depends on it.
But instead I pull away, my heart racing. I look down and see Harry counting notes into the chief poacher’s hands. ‘Let’s do it!’
As I put the match to the first little fire, making sure that there is no other shrubbery around it, my hands are shaking, but the dry grass immediately starts to smoke and glow and take hold. Further up from my vantage point I can see Georgios’s fire sending up smoke too.
We worked quickly, collecting kindling and moss and building small fires on each of the plateaus and vantage points on the route up the mountain path, with the final one just by the cave into the secret valley. Beside each of the little piles, surrounded by a circle of stones, we left a billy can of water from the stream in the valley, ready to put the fires out as soon as we can.
Now I can hear the men working their way up the mountain, their rough, deep voices giving out instructions to each other. I quickly move on and light the next fire. By the time I’m on to the third, the smoke catches in my throat from the damp moss and olive leaves. It’s smoking well. I look up and see that Georgios has at least three fires going too. One or two more should do it. I wipe my mouth and my forehead.
Then I hear the signal and I know that the men have noticed the smoke and it’s time to create some panic!
‘Fire! Fotia!’ I call over the edge of one of the rocky plateaus, lying on my tummy so as not to be seen. They’re looking around but don’t seem to be slowing down. I have to stop them.
‘Fire! Fire!’ This time I stand up and shout. The wind is picking up and swirling the smoke around. I see them pointing at me, but still they aren’t retreating. I jump from stone to stone down the familiar mountain path, waving my arms like windmills.
Suddenly I come face to face with the four rough-arsed poachers. I have no idea what I’m going to do next if they still won’t leave.
For a moment they stare at me in surprise.
‘Fire! Fotia!’ I shout again, and suddenly the wind whips the smoke up and through the trees around us, catching in our throats, making us all cough, as if the gods are helping to waft it on its way.
‘Fotia!’ they all agree, and they turn as one and start hurrying back down the mountain, thick legs moving as fast as their baggy-bottomed joggers will allow them.
I follow on as far as the steps, making sure they don’t turn back. Too late I realise that Harry is still there, watching the poachers get back in their truck. ‘We don’t want to take the blame,’ I hear them tell him. Harry is dumbfounded and throws his glasses to the dusty ground in frustration. As he spins away from the departing truck, he spots me.
‘Nell? What are you doing here?’ he frowns. ‘There’s a fire. You’d better get away. You don’t want to be here when the authorities turn up.’
‘No, you’re right. Anyone found trying to damage the mountain could be in terrible trouble. Maybe a jail sentence, I heard your friends saying,’ I lie.
‘Um, can I give you a lift?’ He looks up nervously at the smoke, one leg in the footwell of his car.
I wave a hand. ‘I’m fine, really, I know where I’m going.’
He takes one more look up at the billowing smoke, then slams the car door and spins off back down the mountain road, following the poachers in their truck.
I can’t help but smile triumphantly. They’ve gone. But then I hear a voice that I hadn’t bargained for. It all happened so quickly, I hadn’t worked out what I was going to say to anyone else about the fires.
‘Nell? Nell? What’s happening?’ Maria is waving her tea towel at me and pointing to the smoke.
‘It’s fine. No need to panic . . . Holidaymakers having a barbecue. Henderson’s Holidays,’ I stutter.
‘They started a fire?’
‘It’s fine. Honestly, Maria, it’s all under control, I promise you.’ I’m edging away from her as I speak. I need to go back up the mountain to put the fires out before they do get out of hand. The smoke is starting to build.
‘Tell them no more barbecues!’ She shakes her head at me as I turn and sprint away.
Using the cans of water from the stream, I watch as each fire is extinguished with a hiss and a fizz until they are all out. Then I climb up the familiar route to the cave in the secret gorge, where, hot, out of breath and with a dark smudge across his forehead, Georgios is standing beaming, and this time I can’t stop myself. I throw myself towards him, riding on the crest of the wave of adrenalin that is still coursing through my body.
‘We did it! They’ve gone!’ I say gleefully, and like two magnets finally drawn together, I fall forward into his arms and my lips find his, and I kiss him, on and on.
I wake the next morning with the rising sun warming my face. I open my eyes and remember where I am. On a sheepskin rug, by a fire, high up in the Cretan mountains, lying next to . . . Zeus. I smile, looking at Georgios’s soft sleeping face – relaxed and as if all his worries have finally been lifted from his shoulders – then lean in and run my finger down the line of the scar on his cheek, still smiling at him and at the memory of last night.
Slowly I turn around and look at the shrine. The candles have gone out. I slide from Georgios’s arms and from under the red Aztec-print blanket covering us, pull on my crumpled clothing and creep over to the shelf where the matches are lying. Suddenly the warm, happy feeling that was wrapping itself around me disappears, replaced by the frosty feeling of guilt.
I turn round to glance at Georgios and see that he’s sitting up, arms wrapped around his knees, looking at me. At first he says nothing and I don’t know what to say either. At last he speaks.
‘He would be pleased for us. That we have found each other.’
‘Is that all it was? Comfort?’ Because if it was, it was the most amazing comfort I’ve ever had, I think, blushing at my own brazenness and unable to look at Stelios’s picture.
‘No,’ he smiles. ‘This is not about comfort. This is about so much more. Come, come back,’ he says softly, patting the place I’ve just left.
I leave the matches and walk back towards him, sitting down on the sheepskin rug. He wraps the blanket around my shoulders, then puts his arm around me and pulls me in close. We stare out of the cave mouth, smelling the fresh morning air, watching the mist curl around the gorge as the sun slowly pushes its way through the morning chill.
‘I have to go and water the herbs down at the honey farm, and then check the bees on the mountainside,’ I say, resting my head on his shoulder, though really I don’t want to go anywhere.
‘Stay, drink something first,’ he says. He stands and pulls on his trousers, his belt hanging undone, his chest bare, making my insides shift and shift again as he puts more sticks on the fire an
d then fills the billy can of water to make mountain tea; a taste I’m beginning to get accustomed to. Will I miss it when I’m home? I wonder. Will I miss all of this?
As I stare out of the cave, I spot a goat standing on a nearby ledge. ‘Oh no, looks like we’ve got a straggler, a stray from the herd,’ I say. ‘I’ll take her down.’ I sigh and begin to stand.
‘No, wait. Ssh.’ Georgios stops me by putting a hand on my shoulder. I look down at it: tanned, with a smattering of dark hairs across the back. A hand that is now so familiar I want to bend to kiss it gently. He raises a finger to his lips.
‘It’s the kri-kri. The wild goat. He’s back.’
We both watch the goat as it tries to move forward. It seems to be struggling.
‘It’s come for the dittany. It’s injured. Look . . .’ He points as the goat tries to reach to a high plant.
‘What shall we do?’
‘It will only take what it needs . . . not like poachers!’ he growls. ‘And if I’m not mistaken . . .’ He moves carefully further out of the mouth of the cave. ‘Bastards!’ he hisses.
‘What is it?’ I jump up, pulling on my jacket, and stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
‘We may have sent the poachers packing, but it looks like they left their traps behind.’
‘Oh God.’ The goat is dragging its back leg, a metal trap clasped around its bloodied foot. ‘We have to help it!’ I say, grabbing hold of Georgios’s forearm.
‘Wait . . . let’s see how bad it is first,’ he says, and I suddenly feel a rush of something that feels a lot like love towards Georgios. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t feel guilty about what happened between us. Maybe Stelios would be happy for us. My heart begins to soar, like the eagles above us.
We creep out on to the ledge outside the cave and watch the goat as it tries to reach the clump of dittany.
‘We have to help it,’ I repeat, and he turns to me and nods once in agreement.
‘Looks like the gods were right to send you to help me,’ he says quietly, and leans in, kissing me gently. Then he picks up some of the tools from where he has been working on the fallen olive trunk, which now has a large eagle carved along the side of it.
‘That’s beautiful,’ I tell him quietly.
‘The new monument for Stelios,’ he says. ‘I thought it was fitting. A bird, free to fly, made from the olive tree, for peace.’ He nods and turns away. I can’t speak for the lump in my throat. Then he starts to climb out on the rocks towards the goat and I set off after him.
‘Be careful. Follow me exactly,’ he says and I nod and do as I’m told.
The goat doesn’t flinch and lets us do what we have to do. I hold its head, stroke its nose and soothe it whilst Georgios works at releasing it from the trap. Once it is free, it dips its head and reaches straight for the dittany, a trickle of blood still coming from its ankle. Georgios kicks the trap off the edge of the rocky ledge, down into the deep green gorge below.
‘Can’t we help clean up the wound?’ I whisper.
‘The dittany will give it all it needs,’ he says. The euphoria of saving the goat and seeing off the poachers seems to have completely disappeared, and he is frowning, his face like a black cloud.
‘Georgios, what’s up?’ I ask. ‘Is it me? Is it Stelios? Because if it is, I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I agree, he would be happy for us.’
‘It’s not that,’ he says. ‘The thing is, if anyone has seen the goat and knows it’s injured, they’ll also know that it will be looking for dittany. They will follow it and it will lead them here, to the secret valley. Right to the heart of the mountain.’
I look down to see Harry Henderson’s car has returned whilst we’ve been asleep. He’s in it now, on his phone.
My heart sinks like a stone in water.
‘We’ll light the fires again,’ I say quickly.
‘You need to check the bees first. Bees hate fire. Check they’re OK, that they’re still there. Try to reassure them. Act normal. We don’t want to raise any suspicions.’ He looks worn out, practically beaten. I feel the same. This may be it; we may have lost the valley. But we can’t give up yet.
‘Keep a lookout,’ I say. ‘If you see them, make the signal as soon as you can.’
‘OK. I’ll lay up the fires this side.’ He rouses himself into action. ‘Stay safe,’ he says and kisses me again, giving me wings to hurry down the mountain.
‘I was just asking Kostas if he’d seen you this morning,’ Maria says as I let myself into the farmhouse kitchen. ‘I was getting worried, what with the fire up there and you staying on your own at Georgios’s.’
‘Early-morning walk, just checking the fire hadn’t damaged any of the wild horta,’ I say quickly. ‘It’s all fine.’ I even manage to pass over a handful I collected on the way down from the mountain, just in case I needed the excuse.
‘Oh thank goodness. You must be exhausted with all this work you’re doing, for us and for Georgios. I can’t think why he has been away so long. I mean, I know he has a lot of family business to deal with, but . . .’
I wonder what business that might be, but the imminent arrival of the poachers pushes the thought out of my mind, and then my phone rings. It’s Demi.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Mum, just wondered if you had time to chat. It’s my day off. I tried a few times this morning but couldn’t get it to connect. You free now?’
I think of the lack of signal up in the mountain cave where I’ve just come from, my cheeks pinking up at the thought.
‘Of course!’ I lie, turning away from Maria, who starts trimming the horta, looking out of the window over the kitchen sink. I move out of earshot.
‘What are you planning on doing today?’ I ask.
‘Oh, nothing really, just hanging out. I might head to a coffee shop. But coffee is so expensive here,’ she says.
‘Well, if it’s a treat, I’m sure you deserve one. Are you meeting friends?’
‘Um, no, there’s no one free today.’
‘What about the family? Are they doing anything?’
‘Nah . . . think I’ll just have a day to myself.’
Demi’s never been one for having time on her own. She hates her own company.
‘What about you, Mum? What are you doing?’
‘Well . . .’ I won’t tell her I’m about to fight with a group of don’t-mess-with-me poachers and set light to a number of fires high up on the mountaintop. Or that I spent last night having the most glorious sex I have ever had up on that same mountaintop, on a sheepskin rug, looking out over a blanket of diamond-like stars, and that it was the closest I am ever going to get to heaven. ‘I’ve got the herb meadow to weed and water and then Georgios’s bees to check on,’ I tell her, my heart leaping at the mention of his name.
Demi laughs, and it feels really good to hear. But I have to get a move on, before the poachers come back. I look anxiously out of the window towards the mountain.
‘Actually, sweetheart, I have to go. The bees need me.’ I hate cutting her short.
‘OK, Mum, go and look after your bees.’ She laughs again.
‘You have fun,’ I tell her, proud she’s getting on so well.
‘Bye, Mum. I love you,’ she says, and it takes me by surprise.
‘I love you too.’ My voice cracks, tears gather, and we both hang up. I quickly wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and walk back into the kitchen to Maria, who hands me a tea towel.
‘You must take some time off, time for yourself, I insist,’ she says, scooping up the horta and rinsing it under the tap. ‘You’re exhausted.’
‘Actually, Maria, strange as it may sound, I don’t know when I’ve felt more alive,’ I say, handing back the tea towel, heading off to Georgios’s bees up the mountain.
‘OK, ladies, no messing this morning. I have to get back up there.’ I look up to the higher rocks. ‘So, no fussing and definitely no stinging,’ I say, zipping up the neck on my big white suit and carrying my smoke can towards them. But the bees aren’t happy, not happy at all. Their buzzing is high-pitched, urgent and agitated. I can feel one of the insects on my neck, like a screwdriver trying to drive its sting into me. I wave it away. I need to get back to Georgios and tell him.
The sun is high and warm in the sky and I’m heading back down to Georgios’s cottage to put the bee suit away when I hear the call. I look up and can clearly see the kri-kri goat standing high above the secret valley. If I can see it, so will others, including Harry Henderson and his poachers. I just have to get up there before they do.
I’m on my way back up the mountain when my phone rings. It’s Demi again. Oh lord, I really can’t stop and chat now. I’ll ring her back as soon as this is done. She probably wants to tell me about the sights she’s seeing in London, or some restaurant the family are taking her to. I’m delighted she wants to share things with me and so happy that she’s happy, but just this once, I decline the call, sending it to voicemail, then shove the phone back in my pocket. A little higher and I wouldn’t have had any signal anyway, I tell myself, puffing slightly as I try and make it up the mountain as quickly as I can. My phone buzzes, letting me know that Demi has left a message, and I put a hand on it, feeling reassured that I have a long chat to look forward to when I’ve finished what needs doing here.
With the fires lit and the smoke curling, Georgios pulls me to him and kisses me hard, as if his life depends on it. Then he breaks away and looks at me.
‘You’re sure you’re OK to do this?’ he asks.
‘Absolutely,’ I nod. I’m out of breath and I’m not sure if it’s from running round lighting the fires or that deep kiss that seemed to say so much more than either of us can put into words right now. The heat has been rising for days and it’s so hot. An Indian summer, they’d call it back home. ‘What about the bees?’
