by Beryl Darby
‘But the buildings, those that were spared by the French Revolution, surely they must be worth visiting?’
‘So they tell me. I prefer open spaces myself. I am not interested in looking at brocade and marble, topped with silver and gold plate. I found your countryside far more attractive than your towns.’
‘We have a very beautiful country, such difference in scenery within a few miles. We have the coastal strip, some natural harbours, and then a fertile area before the mountains begin to rise. Did you venture into the mountains?’
‘I did not feel that my transport could be relied upon for such a journey.’
Yiorgo smiled. ‘The best form of transport in the mountains is a donkey, unless you enjoy walking. You were wise, even with a guide it’s easy to lose your way and it wouldn’t be pleasant to spend the night in one of the caves.’
‘Caves?’
‘The mountains are riddled with them. Some are supposed to be the homes of Greek Gods and many of the villagers would not dream of going near them once it was dark. During the daylight hours many are visited and treated as healing shrines. Even now people will take an offering and pray for the cure of a loved one.’
‘Superstitious nonsense.’
Yiorgo spread his hands. ‘Who can say? Some people have more faith in the mountain spirits than in modern medicine.’
‘They must be illiterate peasants.’
‘I would call them people who have a simple faith in the stories that have been handed down to them over the generations.’
Mr Dubois sipped at his wine. It was better than the girl had given him in the morning. ‘Tell me about the other side of the island. My travels have been very limited.’
‘I don’t know the other side of Crete at all,’ admitted Yiorgo. ‘I imagine it’s very similar to this coast. There are no large towns on that side, one or two archaeological sites and some Venetian forts. For some reason this side of the island always appears to have been more popular.’
Mr Dubois tried to hide his impatience. A government official who had no idea what the other side of his home country looked like! ‘Do you not have to travel there in the course of your duties?’
‘Oh, no, I’m only a local government official. The Prefecture of Heraklion is my domain. That includes the town, the suburbs and the country area which surrounds it.’
‘I am surprised. By the way your wife spoke I imagined you controlled all of Crete.’
‘I apologise for her. She has no great understanding of politics.’
‘You are still an important man, though?’
‘No more so than my colleagues, despite being the mayor.’ Louisa laid plates in front of them and her husband turned to her. ‘What have you prepared for us this evening, my dear?’
‘There’s roast lamb with garlic and cheese, stuffed courgettes or moussaka. You can have whichever you please.’
‘It will be lamb for me, which would you prefer Mr Dubois?’
‘The lamb sounds very acceptable.’ His heart sank at the thought of the inevitable salad that would accompany it.
‘I’ll have the same,’ said Pavlos and smiled complacently as his sister waited on them.
To Mr Dubois’s surprise the lamb was surprisingly succulent and certainly the meal was one of the best he had eaten since arriving on the island. Having complimented Louisa he turned to Pavlos.
‘Your sister told me you had ambitions to be the manager of a hotel?’
Pavlos laughed harshly. ‘It was a dream I had when I was younger.’
‘I do have various influential friends who might be able to help, if you were still interested.
I would obviously need some more information about you, some of it might be quite personal, but it would be treated confidentially, I can assure you.’
‘What would you need to know?’
‘Just the usual data. I will give it some thought this evening and send a letter to you before I leave. When you have answered it to your satisfaction you can send it on to me at an address in Athens.’
‘I thought you were returning to France?’
‘I am, but only for a short while before I return to Athens for some negotiations with the government. Rather than have your letter chasing me around it would be easier to have it sent there. Now, I have to ask you to excuse me. I have to be up early tomorrow and I have just promised to do some work before I leave.’
‘Where is your hotel?’ asked Pavlos. ‘I’ll walk there with you.’
‘You are very kind. I am staying at the ‘Xenia’.’
Pavlos hoped the surprise did not show on his face. The ‘Xenia’ was the best hotel in the whole of Heraklion, probably the whole of Crete. Politicians or visiting dignitaries stayed there, not ordinary people. ‘It’s just along the road from here.’
He took Mr Dubois’s arm and steered him along the side roads, across the Square and into a narrow road, through a passage way and to the entrance. Bidding the Frenchman farewell he hurried off into the meaner district of the town to report to his gambling partner that he had repaid his debt. The gold teeth flashed as Pavlos related all he had been told by Mr Dubois and slowly a slip of paper was withdrawn from the wallet and torn in two.
The news coming from Greece was disconcerting. Yiorgo spent long hours poring over despatch boxes that arrived in Heraklion. After the stand that had been taken in Greece to repulse the Italian invasion an air of complacency had settled on the population of Crete. Now the Germans had invaded Greece, breaking the central sector of the Metaxas Line, which everyone had thought to be impregnable. The loss of life had been great on both sides, but still the Germans had pressed relentlessly onwards through the country, and Yiorgo was more worried than he cared to admit, despite the troops that had been sent to guard the three airfields on the north side of the island. There would have to be an emergency meeting of the council. There was no longer time for talking; this had to be a time of action. He re-packed the boxes carefully, placing various papers into his briefcase to take back to the taverna to read again. He must be sure of his facts and have his arguments well prepared. He wrote a hurried note, which he pinned to the front door of the Town Hall and with his case under his arm walked homewards.
‘Louisa,’ he called. ‘I wish to talk to you.’
With a sigh she left the table she was mopping and walked over to her husband. He stood aside to let her pass into the kitchen, his face drawn and tired.
‘What have you ready that I can eat?’ he asked.
‘There’s some moussaka. I can heat it up for you.’
‘That’ll do. No need to heat it. I’ve got to get back for a meeting.’ He reached out and took her hand. ‘I want you to go away, Louisa.’
‘Go away? Where? Why should I?’
‘I want you and Anna to be safe.’
‘What’s happened Yiorgo?’
‘I’m not sure myself. The messages are confusing and there are so many rumours. All I know is that the Germans are much further into Greece than we ever thought they would be. I don’t want you and Anna to be around if they decide to land here.’
Louisa looked both surprised and scornful. ‘How can they land? There are Australian troops everywhere.’
Yiorgo pushed back his hair. ‘This is no time to argue with me. I want you and Anna to go down to Aghios Nikolaos. Go to my old landlady there. I’ll feel happier if you’re well away.’
‘Why should we be any safer there than we are here?’
‘An invading army always makes for the capital of a country. They have to take control of the seat of communications. If they seize Heraklion it’s doubtful that they’d bother with the country areas.’ Yiorgo was trying hard to be patient with his wife. ‘I’ll go to the bank and draw out all I can. There’ll be enough for the journey and to live on for a few weeks. You take whatever money is in the till.’
Louisa stood there dumbly as Yiorgo helped himself to the cold moussaka and bega
n to eat, still giving her instructions. ‘Stay open as usual this evening, then get packed. Don’t say anything to Anna tonight, there’s no need to alarm her, and you can leave on the first bus tomorrow morning.’
Louisa felt a moment of fear. ‘What about you?’
‘I have to stay here. You’ll be quite safe if you do as I say.’
‘Suppose the Germans don’t come here?’
‘We’ll know their intentions in a few weeks. If they don’t invade you and Anna can come home.’
Louisa sniffed. ‘I’d rather stay here.’ She had been making a good deal of money with the influx of troops.
‘You’ll do as I say. If not for your own sake or mine, think of Anna.’
Louisa opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. She crashed the dirty dishes into the sink and began to wash them vigorously. Yiorgo added his to the collection and put his arm round her, resting his face against her own.
‘I don’t want you to go, Louisa, believe me, but I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you and Anna.’
For once Louisa did not resist him. ‘We’ll be all right,’ she assured him. ‘As you say, no one will bother to go into the country areas, and even if they did they wouldn’t be interested in a woman and child. It would be soldiers they would look for.’
Yiorgo did not disillusion her. For a few moments he held her tightly, then turned away. ‘I’ll go to the bank.’
Louisa finished washing the dishes, wiped her hands down her apron mechanically and sat down at the nearest table, surprised to find that her legs were shaking. The talk she had heard from the army had not alarmed her and she had considered their presence on the island not only a boost to trade, but also as a deterrent to the Germans. She thought Yiorgo had probably been exaggerating. With this comforting thought she smiled. It would be like a holiday to be away from the taverna and Yiorgo for a week or two. She wished she did not have to take Anna with her. The child would be a nuisance. She emptied the contents of the cardboard box that served as a till and was half way through counting the money when the taverna door opened and to her surprise Pavlos stood there.
‘Are you adding or taking away?’ he asked coming close to her.
‘Yiorgo wants me to go away for a while. The Germans have pushed well into Greece apparently and he’s worried that they’ll try to land over here.’
Pavlos whistled. ‘Have they!’ His eyes roamed round the empty taverna until they alighted on Yiorgo’s briefcase. ‘Let’s see where they’ve got to, shall we?’
‘No, you mustn’t. That’s government business.’
Pavlos pushed her away. ‘If it’s a question of saving our skins it’s our business. The government won’t care for the likes of you or me.’ He pulled out a sheaf of papers and began to scan them. He raised his eyebrows. ‘I’ll say they’ve pushed down! They’re almost at Corinth. It’s time to go, little sister.’
‘That’s why Yiorgo is sending us to Aghios Nikolaos.’
Pavlos smiled mockingly. ‘When I say go, I mean really go. How much have you got upstairs?’
‘A couple of hundred.’
‘Go and get it.’
Louisa hesitated. ‘Where will you go?’
For a moment Pavlos seemed uncertain of himself. ‘Mr Dubois is going to arrange for me to go away. Probably America.’
‘Mr Dubois!’
Pavlos nodded. ‘He promised to pay my fare to somewhere safe if I did a few odd jobs for him here, to save him having to come over himself.’
‘What kind of jobs?’
‘Oh, just descriptions of places and how to get there. Nothing very much.’
‘Yiorgo says we’ll be safe if we leave town.’
‘Yiorgo has always lived in a dream. I’ve no intention of waiting around to see if it’s safe in this country. Go and get the money.’
Still Louisa hesitated until Pavlos advanced towards her menacingly, then she fled up the stairs. Dragging a shawl from the back of the drawer she fumbled to untie the knot. The coins cascaded out, rolling across the floor. She collected up those she could see and thrust them into the pocket of her apron. Breathlessly she returned downstairs to find Pavlos stuffing papers from Yiorgo’s briefcase into his pocket.
‘What are you doing?’
‘These could be more use to me than to Yiorgo.’
Louisa paled. ‘I don’t think you should touch those.’
‘You mind your own business. Now, how much are you able to give me?’
Louisa handed him the money from her pocket and without counting it he transferred it to his own. ‘You have been working hard. I shall be eternally grateful for having the most beautiful and profitable sister in the world. It’s a shame I can’t take you with me.’
‘I wouldn’t want to go with you,’ Louisa spoke defiantly.
‘What a way to say farewell,’ he mocked her. ‘Now, a few items from my wardrobe and I’ll be off.’ He scooped the money from the till and added that to the change in his pocket.
‘I was supposed to have that for my journey,’ protested Louisa.
‘My need is greater than yours, dear sister. My journey is longer.’
His feet pounded on the wooden stairs and Louisa could hear him moving about overhead. She stood as if rooted to the spot until he returned. Gone were the old trousers and pullover and he wore a smart pin-stripe suit, a mackintosh draped over one arm and a light case held in his hand. As he passed her on the way to the door he lifted his trilby hat politely.
‘Good bye, take care. If I ever return to Crete I’ll look you up.’
Louisa watched the door close behind him. A feeling of desolation swept over her. Over the years the love she had felt for her brother had waned to nothing, but the man who had just left the taverna was a total stranger to her.
Yiorgo returned to the taverna flushed and anxious. It had taken longer to withdraw the money from the bank than he had anticipated. Whilst in the midst of negotiations he had remembered the briefcase thrown to one side in the taverna. The papers in it were confidential and he had carelessly left it on a chair. He had hoped Louisa had moved it to the back room, now he saw it was where he had left it, but on inspecting the contents he could tell at a glance they had been tampered with. ‘Has anyone been here since I left?’ he asked.
‘Only Pavlos.’
Yiorgo swallowed hard. He tried to comprehend the messages that were coming to his brain from all directions. Pavlos had read and taken the papers. Pavlos had heard his practised speeches. Pavlos was responsible for informing his rivals of his every move. He emitted a low groan. ‘Where is he now?’
‘I don’t know,’ Louisa answered truthfully. ‘He went out again.’
Yiorgo shook his head and sank down onto a chair at the nearest table. When he looked up at Louisa she was touched by the pain and weariness in his eyes. She slipped into the seat next to him. ‘Don’t worry, Yiorgo. It will be all right. We’ll soon be back with you.’
Yiorgo groped for her hand. ‘Louisa, always remember how very much I loved you. You and Anna.’ He spoke gruffly and Louisa was embarrassed. She could not reply with the same sentiments. She searched her mind carefully for words.
‘I shall always be grateful to you, Yiorgo.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘I’ve very little time. Find me some paper and I’ll write the address of my old landlady for you.’
Louisa stumbled back upstairs. The look of utter defeat on Yiorgo’s face had touched her far more than his slavish devotion to her had ever done. For the first time she felt concerned for him. How would he manage whilst she was away? She handed him a sheet of paper. ‘Yiorgo, suppose we just sent Anna to the country?’
Yiorgo shook his head. ‘I want you to be there with her. She’d be frightened on her own.’ He bent over the paper and wrote rapidly. ‘I’m sure she’ll do her best for you.’
Silently Louisa folded the paper and looked at the address. ‘How will I fin
d it?’
‘Ask at the bus station. Anyone can tell you, it’s a small place.’
‘We’ll manage.’ She smiled at her husband.
Anna pushed open the door and looked inside the taverna warily. Yiorgo and Louisa exchanged glances.
‘Come here, my little one.’ Yiorgo held Anna closely to him, stroking her hair. Anna wriggled; fond though she was of her father an excess of affection embarrassed her.
‘Go and wash,’ ordered Louisa and obediently Anna went through to the yard.
Yiorgo turned to Louisa again. ‘I must go. Don’t wait up for me. The meeting could go on all night. I’ll try to get back before you leave.’ He took her face in his hands. ‘Promise me, Louisa, even if I’m not back in time you’ll take Anna and go.’
‘I promise.’ She watched as he took up his briefcase and with a last look at her left the taverna. She shook her head sadly. Poor Yiorgo. She had more feeling for her husband at this moment of crisis than ever before.
‘Supper’s ready,’ she called to Anna. ‘I want you to have an early night. You’ve been late all week. Have your supper and then into bed.’ Louisa did not want to waste precious time in the morning arguing with a tired child.
‘I saw Mr Dubois when I was coming home. I’m sure it was him. He has that funny white line down his face.’ Anna referred to a scar.
‘What was he doing?’
‘Talking to uncle Pavlos.’
So that explained Pavlos’s hurried departure. ‘He may come and see Pappa later.’
Anna wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t like Mr Dubois.’
‘You’ll be in bed anyway,’ Louisa reminded her and Anna hurried to comply with her mother’s orders.
Long habit made Louisa wake at the usual time. She dressed rapidly, placed a few last minute items into her sack and put the water on for coffee before waking Anna.
‘Get dressed quickly. We’re going on a visit.’
Anna’s sleep-filled eyes stared at her mother uncomprehending. ‘Pappa wants us to visit an old friend of his. I’ve packed your spare clothes. Hurry yourself.’
Bemused Anna did as she was told. The smell of coffee wafted up to her, made her feel hungry, and gave her the incentive to hurry.
