The Honey Farm on the Hill: Escape to sunny Greece in this perfect summer read!

by Jo Thomas

  ‘It’s a risk we’re going to have to take. If the poachers find the valley, this land will be stripped and there’ll be nothing left for them anyway. I’ll stay here just in case they make it up to the valley’s entrance.’

  ‘Stay safe. I don’t want to lose you now that I’ve . . .’ I give a little cough. ‘Now that I’ve found you.’

  He looks down the mountainside towards the oncoming trouble and then back at me. Like we thought, the poachers are back, their truck pulling up on the road beside Harry Henderson’s. They get out, pulling up their sagging jogging bottoms like they mean business. ‘I don’t want to lose you either,’ he says, but I can’t help but think about the impending end on the horizon, when I have to return home.

  ‘And after this, if we get rid of the poachers, you’ll come back down to the house? The dittany will have practically finished flowering and will be safe until next year, won’t it?’ I look into his set face and he nods in agreement. ‘Let’s do this then. One last push to keep the dittany and the mountain safe.’

  I take a deep breath, glance at the injured kri-kri goat grazing near the dittany and then turn back to the now-familiar route down to the lower cave and the mountain path.

  ‘Fire! The fires have started again!’ I wave my arms as I stumble, slide and skid down the path just like last time. ‘The authorities are on their way!’

  It doesn’t take long for the poachers to turn tail and leave, clearly keen not to be in the frame if someone is going to get blamed for the fires. I watch from high up on the mountain as they give Harry his cash back and roar off in a cloud of dust to match the dust that’s clinging to my clothes and body. As Harry makes his way angrily up the mountain path to see what’s going on, he’s met by a swarm of agitated bees, and he quickly follows his workforce down the road for what I hope will be the last time.

  I stand on a large rock sticking out from the mountainside, hands on hips, watching him go. Then I take a huge breath and let it out slowly, revelling in the glorious view over the pine trees and the farm below. We did it! I think. The dittany will have finished flowering in a few days, just when I’m due to leave. It’s worthless to poachers if it’s not in flower. We’ve kept the mountain’s secret safe for another year. Let’s just hope it’s finally enough for the bees to come back to the honey farm.

  Early the next morning, as I make my way down the mountain, I hear jubilant shouts of joy from Kostas at the farm.

  ‘Bees! There are bees in the hives!’

  The queen must have taken some of her children and moved there for safety when we lit the fires on the mountainside. Probably the same swarm that saw off Harry Henderson.

  ‘We have bees!’ Kostas is still shouting. ‘Maria! Mitera! They’ve come!’

  Vounoplagia is starting to wake as I slip quietly through the narrow back streets delivering the dittany that’s needed. I’ve tucked the bundles of herbs into the pocket of one of Georgios’s shirts, which I’m wearing open over my vest top. The cafés and shops are alive with talk of the fires being started on the mountain.

  ‘Is it something to do with the drug dealers?’ I hear, as I leave a bunch of dittany on the back doorstep of the florist’s, for Gabriela’s bad hip. I’m able to pick out more and more Greek now.

  ‘The heat?’ someone else is saying as I slip another one through the kitchen window of an arthritis sufferer. ‘It has been a very hot September. I can’t remember when the heat rose like this before the autumn.’ It’s hotter and closer than it has been since I arrived.

  The only other talk is of Georgios. Is he still visiting family in Athens? Is everything OK? Why has he been gone so long?

  I smile, knowing that he is safe and well in the cave and will soon be back in his little house, having seen off the poachers and kept the mountain safe. I get a thrill of excitement at the thought that he might join me in his bed tonight, and a feeling of warm satisfaction, the same sensation as when I’ve just eaten loukoumades, the delicious little doughnuts drizzled in honey and sprinkled with cinnamon. With any luck it won’t be long before the whole town is eating loukoumades with honey from Kostas and Maria’s farm.

  I am in the alleyway, on the corner next to the kafenio. I can hear the two old men sitting out front talking loudly across the road to Agatha from the tablecloth shop.

  ‘What of Georgios?’ Agatha is asking as she winds out the awning over the shop window with a squeak.

  ‘Apparently he’s gone to visit family in Athens,’ one of the old boys shouts. They’re talking about my Georgios, I think with a buzzing in my tummy. Who isn’t? I smile to myself, feeling proud of his efforts to save this town that he loves and cares about. I want to shout about what he’s done and why he’s done it. But I know I can’t. Not yet.

  I’m about to make my last delivery, to the crochet circle in the taverna next door, an extra big bunch for them all to share, by way of celebration. I go round the back entrance, leaving the dittany on a pile of menus by the till before sliding back towards the alleyway, which will bring me out on the mountain road above, where I’ve tucked the moped out of sight behind a big conifer.

  ‘He’s been gone a long time,’ Agatha is saying.

  But he’ll be home tonight, I think to myself with a smile. Home from his hiding place in the mountain.

  ‘Maybe he’s finally gone to visit his wife,’ I hear the other man say as I go to turn towards the moped. I’m rooted to the spot, rerunning his words in my head. I put out my hand and steady myself against the cold stone wall in the dark passage. ‘She’s been trying to get in touch but he won’t answer, so the family say.’

  What are they talking about? His wife? Have I actually heard them correctly? Is this the ‘family business’ Maria mentioned? He’s married?

  Just like that, I feel the ground crumbling beneath my feet.

  I swerve and swing the moped up the mountain road back to Maria and Kostas’s farm and head straight to the beehives, listening to the sound of gentle buzzing coming from them, sniffing and wiping my running nose with the sleeve of Georgios’s checked shirt. I put my hand on the hive and quietly thank the bees for coming. Angel, who I left behind while I went into town, is circling round and round my feet, giving my ankles quick little licks as if trying to cheer me up, and I’m happy for her to distract me from what I think I’ve just heard.

  ‘We are so excited that we have bees,’ Maria is chirping as she busies around the kitchen making breakfast. Kostas is singing and he pulls her to him, insisting she dance. They laugh and hug and she turns back to me. Her jubilant smile drops.

  ‘Are you OK?’ she says, seeing my face.

  ‘Just a cold coming,’ I tell her, and rub my swollen red eyes, hoping against hope that what I heard in the town wasn’t true.

  ‘I told you, you are working too hard. Eat this then go to bed. You need sleep,’ she instructs. Maybe if I’d done more sleeping and less going to bed earlier I wouldn’t be feeling such a fool right now. She hands me a bowl of fasolada, bean soup, and a plate with a square of spanakopita, shiny flaky pastry filled with feta cheese and wild mountain horta that she has no doubt made for lunch later. ‘And here, I will make you mountain tea with some dittany,’ she tells me, and I feel another pang of guilt, knowing it will be made from their limited supplies that I’ve delivered.

  I take myself to my bedroom, unable to face going to Georgios’s cottage, and replay what I’ve heard over and over again. I sit on the small bench under the window, looking out on the herb meadow and the bees in their new home in the valley below, and try to sip the soup, but I can’t. The wind is picking up outside There’s a change on the way. The sky is dark, leaden and grumbling. I put the bowl down next to the untouched pie and think about what I’ve done. How could I have been so stupid as to think I could find love in the same place twice? Why couldn’t I have learned to be happy with who I am, rathe
r than giving away my heart to have it broken all over again?

  I pick up the mug of tea from the bench beside me, breathing in its herby scent. Angel is curled up in my lap. Suddenly my phone pings a text. It’s from Demi. It just says: Mum? Did u get my message?

  Oh God! I practically drop the tea. I completely forgot to listen to her voicemail yesterday. I hold the phone to my ear, hoping that hearing her voice and her laugh will cheer me up. But as I listen to the message, I know straight away that something is wrong. The blood drains from my face. I knew there was something up. She wasn’t phoning just to chat. She wasn’t OK. She needed me. And I wasn’t there.

  Leaving my mug of tea next to the untouched food, I run to Georgios’s cottage and head straight up the wooden staircase, where I scoop up my clothes and start to throw them into my case. I have to leave, as soon as I can. Demi needs me. She wants to come home and I’m not there! I’m sure Maria will understand. I was due to go home in six days’ time anyway. The bees are here. I said I would stay until the bees came, and I have. They can get another WWOOFer. They don’t need me any more. And Georgios certainly doesn’t need me. I have to go home to be with my daughter. Back home where everything is real, not some Greek fantasy filled with sunrises over the mountains, secret valleys full of wild medicinal herbs and long nights of fabulous lovemaking in a cave on a sheepskin rug!

  It’s time to go home.

  I pick up the case and run down the stairs. Georgios is standing in the doorway of the cottage.

  ‘You didn’t come back. I was worried,’ he says.

  ‘What about the mountain? Shouldn’t you be up there?’ I march out to the terrace, where I yank washing off the wooden railing and roll it up into a tight ball.

  ‘The mountain can wait.’ He follows me outside and stands behind me, frowning. My emotions are all over the place. I’m angry, so angry and hurt and bewildered, yet what I want to do more than anything is to lean back into his chest and feel his strong body against mine and draw strength from it. I want to breathe him in and let him love me all over again. But I can’t, and that makes me even more frustrated.

  ‘Nell, what’s wrong? I’m worried about you.’

  I finally turn and glare at him, squeezing the bundle of washing tightly, like I’m wringing the life out of it. A bit like my insides feel right now. I have to find out the truth. I have to ask him. I can’t leave here with unfinished business again. Before I can stop myself, the words tumble out. ‘Or are you worried about your wife finding out about me!’

  He stares at me dumbfounded, his mouth open but no words coming out.

  ‘So it’s true! You’re married!’ I drop the washing into my open case, managing not to hurl it straight into his face.

  ‘I . . .’ He pauses for what seems like forever, and then finally speaks. ‘It’s true. I do have a wife. I can’t lie. But let me explain . . .’

  ‘Oh save your breath!’ How could I have been so stupid? I didn’t see it with Mike, having an affair with Gena, and now it’s happened all over again, only this time I’m the other woman! ‘I assumed you were free to be with me!’

  ‘Please, let me—’

  ‘No!’ I chuck in my wash things from the bathroom. ‘You . . . you . . .’ I let out a loud exasperated sigh.

  ‘You’re right,’ he says. ‘I was wrong to fall in love with you, to take you to my bed. I promise you it won’t happen again. I’m sorry. I . . . I couldn’t help it. I just . . . I have never felt like this before. I can’t help the way I feel. I love you.’

  I can’t bear to hear this. I hold my hands over my ears and snap back, ‘Too right it was wrong.’

  ‘But it doesn’t mean you should go yet. Please don’t leave early because I have behaved badly. You’re needed here.’ He puts a hand on my elbow, but I shake it off.

  ‘Go! Go back to the mountain!’ I’m worried my treacherous heart will start to believe every word he’s saying. ‘Just let me leave. If you really want what’s best for me, then stay away until I’ve gone. I have to get back for Demi. I’m needed there. It’s best for all of us that I’m going.’

  ‘Doesn’t Demi deserve to know about this place? Her family here? Are you going to tell her, bring her here to meet them?’

  And break her heart like this place has broken mine? I think to myself. Right now Demi and I need to be back at home together, just her and me. I zip up the case.

  ‘Just go, Georgios. Do this one thing for me and go.’

  He drops his head and turns to leave. I pick his hat up off the table, the one I’ve been wearing to make the dittany deliveries, and hold it out to him. ‘Here.’

  He turns back, but I avoid any eye contact. He looks down at it but doesn’t take it, as if telling me to keep it, but I thrust it towards him. I don’t want any souvenirs from here. I’m not a silly schoolgirl any more. I’m not the person I was when I left here eighteen years ago with Stelios’s pendant around my neck.

  He takes the hat from me, puts it on his head and yanks it down, then pulls the scarf up around his face. Then he stoops through the low front door, and, with only a moment’s hesitation, walks away.

  My heart wants me to run after him, to tell him I don’t care about his wife, that I want to be in his arms again, that it felt like home. But my head is telling me it was someone else’s home, and I was just a guest.

  I’ve finished packing. I put my case by the front door, my thoughts focused on getting home to Demi, on wondering how I’m going to get to the airport. That’s when I smell it. It’s like burning toast, but herbier. Woodsmoke with a scent of thyme. Then I hear Kostas shouting out on the lane, followed by Maria.

  I throw open the door and look past the cream Cretan cows down to the road and the turning point. Kostas is there waving his arms. Maria is behind him, wiping her earth-stained hands on a tea towel. They are shouting and pointing upwards.

  I look up. There is smoke billowing off the mountain. Not just smoke, but orange, yellow and red flames too. A fire! Not like the little ones we’ve been making; a real fire, on the mountainside, licking up the trunks of trees, setting the bushes alight. The mountain is on fire!

  ‘Oh God! Oh my God!’ I say over and over, picking up Angel and running down the road, where Kostas is opening the fence panel and starting to herd the cows away from the thick smoke pouring down the mountainside. He has his hand over his mouth and is coughing. I can see the flames, burning, crackling, spitting and hissing, just like the ones at the factory, only this time the smoke smells different.

  I race towards him and skitter and slide to a halt. My limbs, though attached, feel like they’re arriving at a standstill at different times, as my body tries to realign itself in an upright, orderly fashion.

  ‘What’s going on? I don’t understand,’ I stutter, aghast.

  ‘Another fire, but this time it looks to have really taken hold. We’ll have to get the animals away.’ Maria is shaking her head and waving the tea towel in the direction of the cows, who turn and look at me as they pass in a line. Even Mitera is there, looking small and frail.

  ‘Love will never return now. It’s all gone.’ She sniffs into her hanky.

  ‘But this can’t be happening!’ I hold my head in my hands. ‘I put the fires out. I definitely put the fires out!’

  ‘What?’ Maria’s face screws up in confusion and then darkens. ‘You? You did this?’ Her voice is quiet and deep over the crackling and spitting of the fire taking hold above us. Kostas stops in his tracks and turns to stare at me as if looking at a complete stranger. Even Mitera stops blowing her nose and scowls.

  ‘Oh God!’ I hold my head again and spin round. ‘I mean, not intentionally. I mean, I did the other ones . . .’

  ‘You started the other fires?’ Maria says. I feel like I’ve kicked a puppy; I’m sick to my stomach, hating myself.

  �
��Not like that. I mean, I did start them, but I put them out. I definitely put them out . . .’

  I replay going to each of the fires, making sure one was out before moving on to the next, using the billy cans of water I’d left by each one. I was so careful. How could this have happened? Did I get distracted, just wanting to get into bed with Georgios? Oh please say I didn’t! Oh God! Did this happen because I was so desperate to get into bed with a married man?

  ‘Why? Why would you do this to us? We took you into our home. Treated you like family . . .’

  I’ve never, ever seen Maria cross. But the look of hurt in her eyes will stay etched in my memory forever, branding itself there and burning painfully. A look of betrayal. The sky is turning orange now to match the flames spreading across the hillside.

  ‘We have to do something!! Call the fire brigade! Get everyone to come and help!’ I bunch my fists as the panic bubbles up.

  Maria and Kostas are still staring at me.

  ‘The fire brigade will come, but I fear it will be too late by the time they make it up here. We have to get the animals away . . .’

  ‘Too late? What do you mean, too late?’

  ‘There is nothing we can do. It is too much fire for just us.’

  Mitera starts coughing. ‘All the love will be gone,’ she says again. ‘The dittany will be destroyed. Men have risked their lives for this herb to show how much they love, and now it will be gone.’

  ‘Oh God!’ The panic bubbles up and explodes from me. ‘The dittany! Georgios!’

  ‘What?’ Kostas, Maria and Mitera all stare at me.

  ‘Georgios! He’s up there! Up the mountain!’

  ‘But you said he was in Athens.’ Maria looks like I’ve kicked her again.

  I shake my head. ‘He’s up there!’ We all look up. The kri-kri goat is standing out on a rocky ledge, not far from the cave where I know Georgios is. ‘On the other side of the fire!’