The Unquiet Mind (The Greek Village Collection Book 8)

by Sara Alexi

  ‘Do you think you would have stayed the rest of your life in the convent if you had not met Stella?’ Juliet asks once they are seated. Sophia is watching a boy with a ball who is using the people walking through the square as obstacles to be dribbled around. No one seems to mind. She hears Juliet’s question but she does not really want to think about it.

  A child with matted hair and a dirty face stands by her shoulder with its hand held out.

  ‘Oh!’ Sophia exclaims at the sight of her. That was one thing that always amazed her about the nuns, and which seemed to contradict their Christian beliefs. They firmly believed other people were different, that the Albanians were not like them, that the Romanians didn’t feel as they felt, that the Gypsies had no hearts. It was as though they felt that the Greeks, the followers of the Orthodox faith, were somehow elevated. After years of listening to these attitudes, Sophia catches her first reaction to this Gypsy child, and it is one she classifies as repulsion, but her strength of logic tells her, on second analysis, that it is fear. Fear of the unknown. The child looks so far removed from any experience she has ever had.

  ‘Give me a euro,’ the child recites in a whining voice, but its eyes flick left and right, fear betraying the pretence of need. Sophia fumbles in her skirt pocket and finds a two euro piece. She looks up to give it to the child.

  ‘Go.’ The waiter speaks firmly and marches at the child. It takes one look at him and runs.

  ‘Now madams, what can I get you?’ The waiter keeps one eye towards the square, checking the Gypsy does not return.

  ‘Do you have electricity?’ Juliet asks.

  ‘We have a generator for such times, so what will be your choice? We have everything.’ His attention is still on the Gypsy child who is edging near a customer sitting further along.

  ‘Right, I will have a freddo,’ Juliets states. ‘Oh and a toast. No ham, just cheese please.’

  ‘What’s a freddo?’ Sophia asks, also watching the Gypsy child. The people she was edging towards are waving her away. The child’s face is rigid, as if their dismissal has no bearing on her. It does look like she has no heart, but how terrible that such young life has been so hardened. Surely she would respond to love and encouragement like any other child, so equally she must be affected by cold indifference and worse. The poor child wears no shoes, her t-shirt is torn, and her shorts are very dirty.

  ‘It’s kind of a coffee milkshake I suppose, creamy and cold,’ Juliet clarifies. ‘Can I have caramel syrup with mine please?’ The waiter nods.

  ‘I’ll have the same,’ Sophia says. Right now, she could take on the world. The waiter moves off and within seconds, the child is by her side again, its hand held out, its head turned to follow the waiter’s course, legs twitching, ready to run. She cannot be more than five, maybe six years old.

  ‘Here you are.’ Sophia gives her the coin. ‘Where are your mama and ...’ But there is no point in finishing the sentence because the child runs off.

  ‘You cannot save them all.’ Juliet has sunk into her chair, looking comfortable as always. Sophia tries to do the same, but she feels she is sliding and sits up straight. ‘So do you?’ Juliet asks.

  ‘Do I what?’ The Gypsy girl has reached the other side of the square and is approaching a group of tourists. So tiny.

  ‘Think you would have ever left the convent?’ Juliet links fingers across her stomach.

  Watching the Gypsy being waved away by the tourists in their new clothes, designer shoes on their feet, Sophia considers Juliet’s question.

  ‘It was a constant question in my mind. Once I had come to terms with that fact that Yanni was not going to write back, not going to come and rescue me, my constant question was how could I leave? I had no money, one dress and one skirt, and the nuns thought I was possessed by a demon.’

  ‘Were you an official nun—you know, ordained?’ Juliet asks, her head turned to watch a toddler on a tricycle being chased by his baba.

  ‘No, I never became ordained. I tried to go down that route for a while. In my early twenties, when I realised it would not be so easy to leave. For a while, I even believed it was my calling, but the abbess was not to be conned. Thank goodness.’ She laughs. Juliet smiles, a lazy smile that grows as their coffees are delivered.

  ‘Your toast is coming,’ the waiter tells them and turns to invite a couple standing arm in arm to take a quiet seat around the far side of the tree. They follow his lead.

  ‘So they let you stay anyway?’ Juliet asks.

  ‘I worked like a horse in that garden. I knew the seasons; the things I planted flourished. The garden kept my spirit alive and the food I produced kept the nuns alive. They weren’t stupid.’

  ‘So do you think you would have, then?’ Juliet asks.

  ‘Would have what?’ Sophia asks.

  ‘Stayed.’ Juliet laughs.

  ‘Oh, right. Well, I think the fact that I have left proves that I would not have stayed, if you see what I mean. If you look for something, I think you find it. I was looking for a way out, so I found it. A bit late perhaps but now, I am here!’

  ‘And your parents dying? Has that helped? Sorry that sounds terrible, but you know what I mean.’ Juliet has ditched her straw and sports a freddo moustache.

  ‘Ah. Well I’m not sure, really. Vetta will keep her shop in the port, no matter what the will says. Sotiria, well, she is in America, so I don’t suppose she is interested at all in the old house. Angeliki has no need for anything. The last letter I got from Vetta was to say that Angeliki was opening another taverna down the coast on the island. They have bought and done up an old ruin there apparently and have boats to run customers back and forth to the town. Vetta said the waters are very deep not far from shore there so the big yachts can anchor, and it has become the place for the rich to dine. So that leaves Sada and me.’ Sophia sighs.

  ‘Sada with the drunk husband,’ Juliet says. The toasted sandwiches arrive and she sits up, pulling the crusts off and eating them first. Sophia makes a small prayer, just a thank you, but it no longer feels like she is praying to the God that lived in the convent. This new God is more generous, more at one with nature. Bigger.

  ‘Yes, Sada. She has her own home, so she won’t want to live in the old house, but I am hoping she will not want to sell it. I think Aleko would just drink a lump sum away until he is dead, which would leave Sada with nothing. But if I live in it, what will I do for money? To those who know me, I am the woman who stabbed Hectoras. They will not employ me. Those who don’t know me will not give me a job because they don’t know me. So I am thinking maybe I can rent the house. This might give Sada money to pay her bills and me money to live on. What do you think?’ Sophia cuts her sandwich halves into quarters. ‘But of course that leaves me nowhere to live.’ She takes a bite.

  ‘Do you want to go back to live on the island?’ Juliet chews and swallows.

  ‘Well, in truth, there is no reason to. But then, where else do I know? Also, I need to know for sure.’

  ‘Know what for sure?’ Juliet asks, pausing before she takes another bite.

  ‘About Yanni.’

  Chapter 25

  ‘Yes, tell me more about this Yanni.’ Juliet uses her tongue to dip into her cup, curling around the side of the glass at the caramel syrup sticking there. ‘Oh sorry.’ She stops and licks her lips. ‘That must have looked disgusting.’

  ‘Were you a wild child, Juliet?’ Sophia asks, smiling.

  ‘What’s with the “were”?’ But she lowers her chin and looks up at Sophia as if she is a little ashamed.

  ‘At least you didn’t get sent to a convent.’ Sophia laughs, encouraging Juliet to do the same. The huskiness is contagious, and Juliet joins her despite herself. The people at the next table give slightly disapproving stares, and one of them tuts, the leaves of the plane tree dappling all their faces.

  ‘I think life always tries to find a way to chip the edges of the fiery characters.’ Juliet finally stops laughing long enough to spea
k. ‘I think if it fails, those are the people who have the energy and enthusiasm to make big impacts on the world, business creators, charity organizers, stars.’ Sophia nods her agreement. ‘The rest of us have been through the mill to such a degree, we are just happy to be alive and no longer wish to climb to great heights. We just appreciate what we have.’ Juliet uses her little finger to get the last bit of caramel sauce from inside her glass. She licks it off her nail, then uses a serviette to wipe her hands. ‘I’m such a pig,’ she says.

  ‘An appreciative pig,’ Sophia agrees.

  ‘So. Yanni.’ Juliet slides down into her chair again.

  ‘Yanni. How do I tell you about Yanni? He was a man, well a boy then, I suppose, who appreciated what he had, and he didn’t have much. When we started school, he shone. He was the fastest at learning. He knew the alphabet before anyone else, he could read before anyone else, and then he was gone.’

  ‘What do you mean “gone”?’ Juliet turns her head, the static in her hair making it stick to the seat, curling up behind her where she slouches.

  ‘He was a shepherd. His baba had a huge flock of goats and sheep, and come lambing or kidding time, he would have to help out. So he would start school in September, be there a few weeks, and then he would be gone, turning up for a day here and there when he could take the time off work.’

  ‘Yes, but at what age did you start school? Six, isn’t it here in Greece? Are you telling me he was working as a shepherd from the age of six?’

  ‘Sure, why not? What choice does he have? What choice did his family have? He was lucky; there are children in the mountain villages at the other end of the island who have never been to school. How would they get there? Who would take them when it takes three hours to walk in to town? Greece is still an agricultural country; the seasons dictate our lives. Oh look!’ She points to a boy on a skateboard who jumps and flicks the board over before he lands.

  ‘So Yanni was bright but never got to go to school? So how did you see him?’ Juliet shows very little interest in the boy with the skateboard. It’s all new to Sophia, though, and she is fascinated.

  ‘Do you think he would let me have a go?’ she asks, and Juliet throws her a dark look. Sophia watches the boy on the board a little longer before she continues. ‘I would go up through the trees after school. It was about an hour’s walk all the way up, but often he was on his way to meet me. We would climb trees, or take the goats to the far pasture if they needed it. Wherever we were, we were alone. It would have been considered an engagement if we were older, and had we been caught. But we were kids, and no one knew.’ She pauses, watching another balloon that has escaped a tiny grip, this time leaving a child crying. The metallic colours flash as the sun catches its surface, floating higher and higher.

  ‘He had a quality like no one else.’ Sophia speaks slowly, dreamily. ‘This peaceful, sure quality that made me feel safe. It’s funny because against the likes of Hectoras, he was the one in the corner or on the floor. But you know, it was as though he let himself be bullied and chose not to fight back. Rather than a lack of physical ability. I mean, he was built with lean muscle on lean muscle, even though he was only a child. But it was as if he had made a choice not to use his strength, or as if it hadn’t occurred to him to use his strength in that way.’

  ‘He sounds very noble.’ Juliet says.

  ‘Noble doesn’t quite fit; it was not for effect. It was something very personal to him. But I also sensed this fear. Not like the world scared him, more as if he was scared what he could do to the world if he responded, if he just let go. He was a non-conformist in every way. He never took what anyone said for the truth without questioning it, even if it was the teacher. The teacher in the first year loved his attitude and did everything she could to explain all he asked. We had her the next year as well, but he was not there for much of that year. In the third year, we had Kirio Polikouto, and he taught by rules and verses and he had no time for Yanni, who came less and less anyway. I would take my books when we met up. We would learn together.’ Sophia’s head tips right back, looking at the speck of the balloon which drifts higher and higher. Down in the square, the mother of the crying child is trying to buy her another, but it seems there are no more of that colour and the child will not be consoled.

  ‘Fear’s a funny thing.’ Juliet says. ‘It can take so many forms and so often, we don’t even notice it. It has taken me a lifetime to work out that my mum was scared of being close to me, scared of her own feelings. It wasn’t just me either, she pushed away my dad too. I didn’t always go to school as a result. I would skive off, couldn’t see the point. I wasn’t a swot like you!’ She laughs. ‘The long-term effect was that I chose my husband, Mick,’ she looks to Sophia who is nodding, ‘who also was afraid of being close. Sure, he was super attentive in the beginning, but I think we recognise tiny signs that our subconscious deciphers to let us know what a person is all about. I think I saw all the signs of his being a person who was afraid of being close and instead of it being a warning, it felt familiar.’

  ‘You think Yanni was afraid to be close?’ Sophia asks.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Just something you said made me think of my own experiences. Maybe, who knows? Have you heard anything from him recently? Is he married?’

  Sophia partially stands up, straightens out her skirts under her, and sits back down. She folds her arms and one hand raises to her mouth to push against her bottom lip, which she chews.

  ‘Sophia? Tell me,’ Juliet invites.

  ‘It’s stupid, and now I suppose it doesn’t matter,’ Sophia says. ‘A few days after I started working at the sandwich shop, I thought I saw him.’

  ‘No!’ Juliet gasps.

  ‘Well I haven’t seen him since he was thirteen and people change a lot, but there was something about this man that just made me think of Yanni. I was almost sure. I thought if it was him, he would come over and talk to me, but then I suppose I have changed, too.’

  ‘So did you not go to talk to him?’

  ‘When I saw him, he was with Babis. You know Babis the lawyer, right? Well, he was with him at Stella’s, so I guessed they were talking business and I didn’t want to interrupt. And then, after he was gone from Stella’s, I doubted myself. How could it be that the boy from my childhood would be over here the same time I find a way out of the convent? It’s all too perfect. So I told myself I was making it up, that I was imaging the things that made me feel safe.’

  ‘Did you ever find out if it was him?’ Juliet’s eyes are fixed on Sophia.

  ‘The next time, and the last time I saw this man, was up at the convent. I was still living there, even though I was working down here and it was the panigyri, so the whole village was up there. I had sat down to eat with Stella and a crowd from the village when he came in. He was looking around the room like he had lost someone, or something, and I can remember thinking “I am here. I’m here. Can’t you see me?” I was so excited. But he just kept looking around and his eyes fell on a young nun at the back of the hall and he could not take his eyes from her. Then someone said his name. “Yanni, he’s in the church.” Or something like that, and that was the moment I knew it was him and my heart reached out.’

  ‘Oh my goodness! What did you do?’

  ‘Well I was going to stand and rush to him, but one of the older nuns said something to him and even as he was talking to her, he could not tear his gaze from the young nun. He just stared at her. He didn’t go up to her or say anything, he just stared. Then he glanced back at our table, I think Stella said hello, and he looked right through me. I had to look away quickly. I could not control myself. Tears were in my eyes.’

  ‘Oh you poor thing.’ Juliet’s hand slides across the table and takes Sophia’s.

  ‘So I never spoke to him. All I know is that he saw me and he ignored me.’

  ‘But how was he to know who you are? He has not seen you for twenty years, and in that time, you have been through things that will show on your
face. Did you see a wedding band?’

  ‘I didn’t look. It was over in a second.’

  ‘So you know nothing, just that he is alive and he is, or was, here.’

  ‘I know he saw me. I know he walked away.’

  ‘And that’s it then?’

  ‘Just because I stood still in my convent glass bubble doesn’t mean the world also stood still. It goes on, Juliet. I accepted that years ago. To dream that I would walk out of there and find everything as I left it would be a ridiculous notion. Half the girls at school would have married him in a heartbeat if he had noticed any of them, and they have had twenty years to get his attention. He will be married with children, and, as events have shown, he doesn’t even remember me.’

  ‘And the young nun he was looking at?’

  Sophia shrugs, looks away. ‘It’s none of my business.’

  Chapter 26

  With a shrug, something dark flickers through Sophia. One arm contracts across her chest. She bites her bottom lip so hard, she can taste iron. A stream of unleashed thoughts rages through her, unwholesome, black, and more damning than any thoughts she has had at any other time. She is half-inclined to cross herself, but all that symbolism seems like make believe and superstition in the moment. All she can think are that her thoughts are justified. Thoughts against Hectoras, her mama, the abbess, and all the nuns who had nothing better to do than to seek out the evil in her. Thoughts even against Yanni, who should have been more than he is, but mostly thoughts against herself for living in fear: the fear of walking out of those convent doors. It is just a shadow and it passes, but it leaves a trail behind it.

  If she had just walked out, of course it was possible that many, many bad things could have happened to her, but there was also a chance that good things could have come her way, too. Yanni might have not forgotten her if she had acted years earlier. What does it say about her own state of mind if her belief was so strong that only bad things could happen outside of the convent, that she would be better off staying where she was? Surely that is to think evil of people—just like the nuns had of her. Perhaps she is no better than any of them. Maybe that’s why Yanni ignored her, if that was what he could see in her face.