by Andrew Hill
"Oh, I don't know," said Chris, "I really don't know..."
"Who is that old man I saw in the truck?" Stavros continued.
"Bob? Ha! Bob is from America. I have some business with him," said Chris.
"Business here on Kos?"
"No, not yet. Bit complicated, Stavro. Hey, let's drink and forget business, eh?"
"OK."
Stavros looked over his shoulder and whistled at two young girls walking by. "Hey girls, why you not say anything to me today?" he shouted. The girls looked back at him, laughed, and carried on walking.
"Don't worry, Christo," he patted Chris on the knee and a huge grin spread across his face. "I find you beautiful girl - then you think of other business...eh?!" chuckling to himself as he went off with the tray to serve some tourists standing at the entrance.
Chris gazed out to sea, where the lamps of the fishing boats made yellow pools on the still surface. Far in the distance, tiny pinpricks of light flickered somewhere further round the coast in the direction of Kefalos. He hardly noticed the hubbub around him, meaningless chatter in assorted languages. The measures of gin there, particularly those of Stavros' making, were extremely generous, a good inch and a half up the long glass. Chris emptied his glass, cursing as he realised that it was going to take a lot more still to prevent his mind going over and over the events of the day.
He got up lazily and affectionately ruffled his friend's hair as he passed him.
"Maybe see you later," he said.
Stavros turned towards him and rotated his thighs round and round, holding his tray above his head with one hand and making an unmistakable gesture with the other.
"You go to the disco now, Christo?" he asked, continuing to gyrate.
"Maybe," said Chris, unable to hold back a grin. "Maybe."
It was far too early for the discotheque. It only really got going at about eleven and it was only nine then. Chris strolled around to another bar and sat watching people go by. A steady stream of Greek couples passed, walking along the sea front and then back again. Chris admired the men's smart, clean clothes and the pretty cotton and lace dresses that the dark-haired girls wore. As time went by the couples became groups of almost entirely Greek lads, dressed for the kill and doing their best to look serious as they searched for their prey. The tourists that were staying out for the night began to emerge, taking the place of the obviously married and older folk, for whom the pace of life after ten was either a little too hot or embarrassing. Chris watched one particular couple, probably a good few years younger than himself, as they sat in the adjacent bar. The girl looked bored and seldom paid any more than passing attention to her husband or boyfriend. Her cocktail had long since been emptied from the glass and the decorative orange parasol lay helpless at the side. She picked it up as Chris watched, and twiddled it between her thumb and forefinger so that it spun. Her companion sat with his glass of beer half empty and tapped his hand on the plastic arm of the chair in time to the music. He turned and said something to her, pointing at something along the beach. The girl nodded and smiled politely but her own gaze transferred to a Greek lad running by. As he went past Chris, her eyes caught his own for an instant then looked away. Chris could not resist the temptation to carry on watching and, as she glanced back, he held her gaze for a little longer then deliberately looked from her to her companion and then back to her again. Still in her view, he held up a hand as a waiter passed by.
"Parakalo, a drink for my two friends over there."
"But that is not my bar."
"OK, bring me two of your special cocktails and a gin and tonic."
The girl looked slightly startled for a second but then smiled openly as Chris walked over with the two cocktails.
"Excuse me," he said, "they do not like to see empty glasses here!"
The girl laughed. "That is very kind, thank you." She was Scandinavian, but Chris could never tell the difference between Danish, Swedish, Norwegian and Finnish. The man woke up a little and asked whether this was a custom.
"Please drink with us," he said as he got up awkwardly and pulled a third chair opposite them.
"Oh, I don't want to disturb you," said Chris, looking at the girl, who knew very well that he wasn't.
"No, no, not at all. Please," insisted the man.
"Well, actually, as these drinks are from the other bar, we should really sit there..."
"Oh, shall we move?" asked the girl, quite concerned and gathering her bag and purse.
"No - I think - er, the best idea is to drink these quickly and I'll take the glasses back and then order another one from this guy. That way you don't have to move. It's my fault; I didn't realise you were the other side of the line! It's so difficult to tell with these bars so close together! He sounded as if he knew what he was talking about and the couple fell for it.
"Quick," he continued. "Yammas!"
Their glasses clinked together.
"That is strong!" said the man, pausing half-way.
"It's lovely!" argued the girl.
"Come on, drink up."
"Mmm, that's beautiful - what is it?" asked the girl.
"Tell you in a minute," said Chris, standing up to finish his own drink then holding his hand out for the man's glass. "Back in a minute."
He dashed back to his previous table with the glasses, set them down and returned, calling to the waiter as he sat down.
"Thio special cocktails kai ena gin parakalo."
The waiter smiled, amused by both his poor Greek and his antics.
"I don't think I can have more," said the man.
"Oh, it's OK. This is holiday," replied the girl, adding something in her own language before sighing and uncrossing her legs then re-crossing them to face Chris. She leaned forward to take the next drink as it arrived.
"I am Tina and this is Jack."
"Hi," said Chris, shaking hands firmly with Jack and rather more gently with Tina. "I'm Chris."
A deal of casual chat and two more rounds later, Jack was decidedly drunk. Tina, however, was merely giggly and Chris figured it was time to make a move.
"Well," he said, "I'm going to the Club now - you coming Jack?"
Jack muttered something in Swedish and Tina looked disappointed.
"But I haven't danced for ages," she pleaded. "Please Jack. I want to go."
Jack clearly was not in any state to stand on his own, let alone dance.
"Better take him home," suggested Chris.
They got Jack to his feet and, exchanging a smirk with the laughing waiters, Chris guided the Swede to his hotel, Tina helping to hold him upright. Luckily, the hotel was just a short walk away and, a few minutes later, Jack was flat on his back on the bed, dead to the world.
"I think he's out for a while!" remarked Chris as he walked towards the door. "Coming?"
Tina needed no second asking and the two went downstairs and out into the street.
"He hasn't done that before," she said. "I suppose he is not used to the heat."
Chris knew the real reason - the waiter had stiffened Jack's drinks considerably. It wasn't normal for the Greeks to help tourists play their own game but, to them, Chris was not a tourist nowadays and he was due a favour from last year.
Disco Nicosilia could be heard from about quarter of a mile away. By the time they reached the entrance ordinary conversation was difficult; when the door opened it became impossible. The two gestured to that effect, giggling as they entered. Despite being quite a small building and a really crowded bar, there was a lot more room on the dance floor than in a typical British equivalent. Clever lighting and air conditioning gave the place a touch of class but not here the showy evening dresses or suits. The atmosphere was relaxed and fun. A string of Greek lads looked hopeful as Tina passed them and Chris's presence did not deter two of them from following them onto the floor. Tina moved well. Chris guessed that she must be about twenty-three, twenty-four. Her straight, blonde hair was thick and quite short. Her simple, short, pin
k dress did not give much away about what lie beneath it but her fine legs were attractive. She stayed dancing for ages and really seemed to be enjoying herself. Chris felt that he was relaxing considerably, smiling easily as she caught his gaze and appreciated his attention.
After a while, Chris began to tire and, placing a hand on her bare shoulder, he guided her off the floor through the crowd watching from the edge. As he did so, he playfully stroked the back of her neck with his fingers, resting his palm between her shoulders. Her neck arched back and her face looked up at him. He quickly kissed the slightly open lips and felt a warm hand move round his hips as he did so. A small pair of briefs restricted the natural movement he felt in his loins and made the sensation all the more potent. As they pushed through to the bar he made an attempt to adjust himself to a more comfortable angle, partially succeeding.
"Is that your father?" whispered Tina, as she saw Bob dozing on the bed on the other side of the room.
"No!" replied Chris, softly, laughing. "A business friend - now are you going to be quiet or do I have to take you down to the beach...."
He pulled her towards him and felt the curves of her body pressed against him. He moved slightly, then pressed the bottom of her back tightly so that even the four layers of clothing between their loins could not hide their respective feelings. She breathed deeply and passionately kissed him, moving gently but firmly and slipping her hand underneath his shirt.
Without another word they undressed and lay together on the bed. The necessity to keep as quiet as they could made the excitement even greater. The simple wooden frame bed creaked slowly as the two bodies entwined and the noise combined with their own intermittent sounds of appreciation to become part of the night.
Chapter XXIV Misdirection
"That worked pretty well," said Paul. "Do you think they fell for it?"
"Bob certainly did, but Chris didn't seem as annoyed as I expected," said Tyler. "He almost seemed happy to go off with old Bob. God, I hated doing that but it's in his own interests at the end of the day."
"Hmm. It was the way he looked at us all," said Evelyn. "I wanted to give him a hint but couldn't risk it. I think that the threat of publicity is the only way we're going to find out whether Bob really has got anything real. If he has, he's going to do all that he can to prevent it getting out. If he hasn't, Chris should find that out now if they're stuck on their own somewhere for a while. Bob's bound to make a move one way or the other."
"Did Michaelis brief CBS reception OK?" asked Tyler.
"I hope so," replied Evelyn. "He also knows how to handle Chris. He's bound to call eventually."
"How long are we going to give him?"
"Well, unless they cut themselves off from the world, it'll be pretty obvious within ten days or so that neither the tape nor the book have gone further than my bottom drawer, so if we've heard nothing by then we'll pull them both in."
"Who's going to break the news to Chris?"
"Ha! I think you'd better do that, John. You're about the only one he might not take a swing at!"
Chapter XXV Talking To Gill
The tiny engine on the pea-green Suzuki Cuore fired and Chris thumped the eject button to silence the Greek tape playing. He fumbled around for a substitute and tried one. Michael Jackson burst out of the speakers and Chris pushed the gear shift into first and took off. He wondered how on earth the same Japanese firm could produce jeeps and dinky toys like this one, as he negotiated a stream of bicycles coming the wrong way down the only one-way street in Kos town. Turning right at a stone dolphin-clad junction at the harbour he headed out of the island capital.
His friend Jiannis had given him a lift into town where Chris could borrow a car from another Jiannis he had done business with in the past. The little car buzzed along very satisfactorily and trying to get above 100kph was all but impossible with all the tourists on bikes and scooters weaving their way along the road to Tigaki and Marmari beaches.
On his left the central hills rose with their covering of olive trees thinning at the peaks. He glimpsed the white specks of Zia half-way up, with the sun catching the bright blue dome of the church there. To his right lay the flat ribbon of agricultural land with the occasional house where people had moved down from the hills after the war. In the distance, the sea sparkled crisply and Chris wondered how Tina and Jack were getting on with Bob. Although he couldn't see how Bob could get away, he had nevertheless avoided any chance of his getting far by introducing Tina to him earlier in the day. Jack had still been suffering from the effects of the drinks the night before and had completely missed the whole of the morning. Tina had nearly slipped up with some joke about sleeping with older men but Bob didn't appreciate that she wasn't referring to Chris's years but rather Bob's proximity that night!
He took the view that Bob could be pretty good company for a while and Tina had been pleased to help. If Bob did disappear then she had her instructions.
Eight o'clock in England was ten o'clock in Greece but Chris realised he had not made it clear when telling Gill the time to call. He decided that he had better head for the bar in case she did make the earlier call. He drove through Zipari at about seven thirty, looking at the shops and noticing how they never seemed to change from year to year. Not a tourist attraction, the small village was strung out along the main road. A large, modern church always caught his attention. It had the familiar, large dome but this one appeared metallic, sometimes shining brightly in the sun.
Chris turned right a couple of kilometres further on, waving to the old man that ran one of two cafe bars at the junction. The other was Nico's Cafe Bar where, Nico and his wife, Poppy's lives revolved around a trickle of passing customers, regular locals and the telephone. It was the only telephone nearby and it produced a fair amount of revenue for the family. One would often have to make several attempts to get a line out of the island and, as each attempt still resulted in several units being registered on the meter at 5 drachmae each, people dialling abroad were good business for Nico.
Killing two and a half hours on a warm summer's evening there is not difficult, despite the strain of trying to maintain a conversation with Nico, who knew practically no English. A bottle of Glafkos and a couple of tumblers were more or less compulsory. If the ouzo appeared then it would be to hell with any chance of further business that day! Chris seldom ate there but this evening he was hungry and, as he walked in, the aroma of souvlaki being roasted on a charcoal grill was irresistible. After recovering from the welcome he received and remembering to smile and make gestures of recognition to all the locals, just in case they knew him and would be offended otherwise, he cheekily nibbled one of the chunks of meat on the grill in the kitchen. A few minutes later a plateful was set in front of him together with the inevitable, but palatable, salad.
The phone rang at quarter past eight. Chris dived for it before Nico had a chance to answer.
"Gill?"
"Hello, Chris. I wasn't sure if you meant your time or ours so I thought I'd try now. How are you?"
"Hello, Gill. Thanks for calling. I don't care what the time is. It's just great to hear your voice. I'm fine. I'm on Kos, speaking in a little cafe bar in the middle of nowhere. Bob's with me - well, not here at this moment, but on the island - God knows why but Evelyn, John and the others turned the tables on Bob and me yesterday, threatening to publish everything. They had a guy from some television company filming the meeting. Of course Bob was livid and I wasn't too pleased. They say they need the money. I'll get a share but it still seems a bit crazy. God knows what I'll do now."
"I tried Michaelis but he didn't seem to want to talk. He says Bob's got to pay somehow and you'll understand eventually. I don't think he's too sure about me. Why don't you call him?"
"I'm going to see what Bob's still got up his sleeve. So far he hasn't talked about it at all but something's bound to come out soon. Any more trouble at home?"
"I don't know. I haven't spoken to anyone and, of course, no-one knows
where I am anyway."
"Look Gill, I think it would be useful to find out what the lads do when they get back. The car's at Basle airport - I left it in the car park - so they'll have to get back under their own steam. They may be back already, I suppose. Try your charms on Evelyn. It would be natural for you to want to know how I am. He must have told his wife when to expect him back, so if you give him a call and arrange a get-together...it would be best if you could take someone with you...."
"Collette..." said Gill, hesitating.
"Collette," Chris repeated, quietly. He had not expected to hear her name again. A string of emotions went through his mind and a sadness passed momentarily, leaving a heavy feeling behind his eyes. So many questions again. He gathered his senses once more and, rubbing the phone with a finger, said:
"That's not a bad idea, Gill. But, as I keep saying, be careful. Don't go back to the estate just in case those guys are still looking for me or whatever the hell's going on."
"OK, Chris. When can we talk again?"
"I'll be here at the same time tomorrow if there's any news. If I have any, I'll try and get hold of you there or, at least, I'll leave a message."
"I wish I could be with you..."
"Soon, I'm sure, but it's important to try and see what develops there. I glad you rang. I miss you."
"Me too you."
Chris put the phone down gently. He was deep in thought. With a wave to Poppy, he handed a 500 drachmae note to Nico and walked back to the car.
"Damn! Drown it with music!" he thought to himself and turned up the volume so that the speakers screamed as he drove off.
Chapter XXVI Followed
"Bastards!!" shouted Tyler, when his mother-in-law gave him the news about Sally. "Who was it?" he continued, "I'll kill them for this!"
Faces turned towards him as he slammed down the phone in the busy Heathrow terminal building. He stormed over to the bar where Paul and Evelyn sat drinking. "They've hit Sally while we've been away!" he stated, slumping into a chair and staring at the others.
