by Beryl Darby
With pad and pencil in hand he started his assessment of the buildings. Those fronting onto the path appeared reasonably safe until you passed through the second archway. The walls on the right hand side of the first three houses were leaning dangerously and a shutter higher up was hanging on a single hinge. He must ask Father Minos if anyone was still living in them and suggest they be moved if so. He wound his way up and down the narrow paths and looked at his findings in despair. So many of the houses would need to be razed to the ground and completely rebuilt before they would be habitable again. He shivered. This would be how the island had looked to Yannis when he first arrived. No wonder he was seeking solace from a bottle. Years of hard work and energy expelled had disintegrated around him.
Sadly he made his way back past the taverna. He could see Yannis still sitting there, the glass in his hand. He went in search of Father Minos, finding him at the hospital deep in conversation with Spiro and Doctor Stavros. He waved Andreas to a seat.
‘Come and join us. Ritsa is getting us some lunch. How did you find Yannis?’
‘Drunk.’
Father Minos sighed. ‘I’m afraid he is most of the time.’
‘I was very hard on him. I hope I haven’t done more harm.’
‘We’ve tried being understanding, so a bit of plain speaking won’t come amiss. His sister coming over seemed to help at first, but even she isn’t able to have any lasting effect. Anyway, tell me what you thought of the buildings.’
‘Pretty disastrous! Is anyone living in those by the arch?’
Father Minos shook his head. ‘Panyotis is in hospital and the other occupants died.’
‘What about the houses on the hillside?’
‘Only one or two people have insisted on staying there.’
‘So the government could be justified in refusing to help with repairs on those?’
‘They could at present, but we’ll have a housing problem when they start to send more people over.’
Andreas nodded. ‘We’ll have that to hold over them.’ He turned to Doctor Stavros. ‘What about the hospital?’
‘It needs enlarging. The ordeal these people have been through will take its toll. It may not show yet, but it will over the next few years. Their resistance to any infection, however slight, will have been lowered. It would be nice to have some beds, make nursing easier not to have to carry out all the treatment on your knees.’
‘New blankets and mattresses are essential,’ interrupted Spiro.
‘And there’s the question of the generator. It was promised and never sent.’
Throughout their lunch they discussed the improvements they hoped the government would provide until Andreas looked at his watch. It was the only personal luxury he allowed himself and considered it essential if he wished to be punctual for his church services.
‘I’m going to ask Manolis to take me over to Plaka. I’m sure I’ll be able to beg a bed for the night and I want to see my aunt. I’ll come over again tomorrow.’
Maria was delighted to see her nephew. Her first questions were regarding Yannis’s health and Andreas replied cautiously.
‘He’s very unhappy, but I believe he’ll overcome his problems, given time.’ He spoke more confidently than he felt. ‘I had a letter from Annita shortly before I left. Shall I read it to you?’ Without waiting for her reply he took the letter from his pocket and began to search for the parts that would interest her.
‘If Annita has servants what does she do all day?’
‘She didn’t say,’ admitted Andreas, ‘ but she has the children and I assume she still helps Elias with his research.’
‘What does your Pappa do with himself over there?’
Andreas lowered his eyes. ‘He has a fish shop. I think he misses the sea more than he cares to admit.’
Maria nodded. ‘His life was the sea. Why doesn’t he come home?’
‘Mamma likes to be near Annita and the children, and he would do what mamma wanted.’
Anna greeted her cousin with surprised pleasure, whilst Marisa and Yannis looked curiously at the unknown man in the priest’s robes. Anna produced a bottle of brandy from the cupboard.
‘It was Pappa’s best, used for celebrations. You’re a good excuse for a celebration.’
Andreas drank sparingly. He had no wish to go to the island the following day with dull eyes and a heavy head in imitation of his cousin. They talked late into the evening until Anna yawned.
‘I must go to bed, and so should you. Davros will want to make an early start.’
‘May I borrow some old clothes? I don’t want to wear my robes over there – too cumbersome.’
‘There are some of Pappa’s or Yiorgo’s. Take whatever fits you best.’
This time Andreas made straight for the taverna where he expected to find Yannis. He was not disappointed. A glass was in his hand and he was swilling the red wine slowly round in it. He looked up as Andreas entered. ‘I thought you might come back.’
‘I had to,’ replied Andreas. ‘I didn’t finish yesterday. I had to leave before I had time to speak to you again. I need your help.’
‘Mine! The drunken cousin! You don’t need my help.’
He drained his glass and reached for the bottle. Andreas was too quick for him and held it firmly. ‘How many have you had?’
‘Not enough.’
‘Plenty for the present, you can have some more later. I want you to come round with me.’
‘Round where?’
‘The island; I need to know which houses were rebuilt properly and which were patched up. I need the benefit of your knowledge. What’s more, I’ll sit here, holding this bottle, and refusing to let you have another drink until you help.’
Balefully Yannis glared at him; then pushed back his chair. ‘Come on, then. The quicker we get started the sooner we’ll be finished.’
Yannis tried to turn up the hill, but Andreas steered him down to the square. With downcast eyes Yannis scuffed along beside him, a sad, shambling figure that tore at Andreas’s heart.
‘Right side, first house. Who lives there?’
‘No one..’
‘Who did?’
‘Christos and his friends.’
‘Did you build it?’
‘No, only repaired it.’
‘So what did you repair?’
‘The roof, new beams, new tiles, most of that wall.’
‘We’ll go inside.’ Andreas pushed open the long wooden door and together they walked into the gloomy interior. Yannis watched as Andreas inspected the walls, window frames and stairs. ‘We’ll take a look upstairs. Come up with me.’
Obediently Yannis followed and both men blinked as a shaft of light hit their eyes. There was an area of roof missing from the far corner. Andreas made a note.
Inspecting each house, inside and out, took a good deal longer than Andreas had anticipated. At the end of each inspection he would make notes in a small book. At mid-day he insisted Yannis joined him at the hospital for lunch.
‘I usually eat at the taverna,’ grumbled Yannis.
‘Today you are with me.’
Father Minos gave an almost imperceptible nod to Andreas as Yannis entered with him and moved over slightly to allow room at the table.
‘He’s earned his lunch. He’s been walking round the houses with me all morning, showing me the repairs and helping me to decide if those that are standing are safe.’
‘No one would know that better than Yannis. How far have you got?’
‘Half way up the right side. After lunch we’ll start on the left and see if we can get to the same place before I have to leave.’
Yannis ate his lunch in silence whilst the other four men chatted, Doctor Stavros assuring Andreas that he would have no need to inspect the hospital as he had drawn a plan for a new one which he could show to the government. Spiro disagreed. The hospital should be inspected and repaired if necessary, as they
could have to wait for some years before a new one was built. The two men argued back and forth until Andreas decided he was wasting time.
‘Back to work. We have a good deal to get done.’
Yannis glowered at him, but followed. Spiro looked at Doctor Stavros. ‘Do you think Father Andreas is pushing him too hard?’
Doctor Stavros shrugged. ‘I’m no psychologist. Something has to shake him out of his apathy and nothing that I’ve tried has had any effect.’
Andreas glanced covertly at Yannis as he hurried him down the path. There was a tension about the way he was holding his body now that was inexplicable. As before his eyes were fixed on the ground and he glanced to neither left or right until they reached the square.
‘First house on the left. Who lived there?’
‘Achileas and Maria. Achileas died. Maria’s still there.’
Andreas knocked the door and requested permission of the lame woman to inspect the house. It seemed sound, both inside and out. ‘Did you do any repairs here?’ he asked of Yannis.
‘The side wall and most of the back, then we had to mend the roof.’
‘You did a good job. Everything appears to be fine.’ He thanked Maria and almost pushed Yannis out of the door. ‘Come on, next one.’
‘No. It’s perfectly all right. There’s no need.’
‘I have to inspect each one.’
‘This one is all right, I tell you.’
‘Who lives here?’
‘No one.’
‘Well, who did?’
His question was met by a stubborn silence. Andreas saw the pain in Yannis’s eyes. He pushed open the door. ‘You have to go back sometime, Yannis.’
‘No.’ The sound was a strangled gasp.
‘Yes.’ Andreas took him by the elbow and propelled him through the doorway. Inside he stopped in surprise. Yannis’s books were neatly arranged on a shelf, beside the fireplace was a workbox with two pairs of socks sitting on the lid waiting to be mended, and pinned to the wall were sketches. Apart from the dust which lay on every surface the occupants could be returning at any moment.
‘Yannis.’ Andreas’s voice broke with emotion as he opened his arms to his cousin. ‘She won’t come back, she can’t. You have to accept that.’
‘Phaedra. Oh, Phaedra. I miss her so much.’ Tears were streaming down Yannis’s face and he sobbed unashamedly into Andreas’s shoulder. ‘I don’t want to go on without her.’
‘Yannis, you have to. It’s what she would have wanted. You’re still needed here. Everyone who’s survived needs help and you’re the person they look up to. They trust you. Phaedra would want you to build a new life. More sufferers will be sent over here soon, and what will happen to them if you don’t take charge? They’ll have no one to help them, no one to turn to when they have a problem. You created this community and you have to be strong enough to keep the community together. Everyone’s life has been torn apart in these last few years and you’re one of the few people able to help them rebuild.’
‘Rebuild. Rebuild. Rebuild.’ The word rang in Yannis’s ears as it had done so many years ago, whilst he continued to sob. Andreas began to pray aloud.
‘Please, God, give Yannis strength and peace of mind.’
Over and over he repeated the phrase until he felt Yannis’s sobs subsiding. Slowly he released him, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. Tears were still pouring from his eyes as Yannis mopped his face. Gently Andreas led him back to the taverna, calling for wine as they entered. He poured a glass for each of them and downed his in a single swallow, pouring another. Yannis picked up the glass and stared at the red liquid. His lip curled and he dashed the glass to the ground before he pushed his way out of the door.
Andreas let his head sink into his hands. He felt weak and with a trembling hand he lifted his glass. He could do no more today. Unwilling to move he forced himself to go in search of Yannis. He retraced his steps to the house and looked inside, then to the hospital, asking each person he encountered, until he finally discovered his cousin on his knees in the church.
Andreas genuflected. Father Minos was listening to Yannis’s heart-felt outpouring of his sins and asking for forgiveness. Quietly Andreas left. He had no wish to eavesdrop on a very private conversation.
Andreas returned to Heraklion feeling far happier about his cousin. Each day he had spent on the island he was able to see an improvement in Yannis’s attitude. He no longer sat in the taverna all day, befuddled by too much wine, his eyes, although filled with sorrow, were clearer and he was trying to take an interest in events around him. His parting shot to Andreas was to remind him that the generator was of prime importance.
It was a long list of requests that Andreas placed before the local government. He reminded them that Yiorgo Pavlakis had promised the generator before his death and they were under an obligation to honour the pledge. Grudgingly they agreed and then began to haggle over the other items on the list. He reminded them, gently at first, and then more forcibly that the islanders had suffered deprivation and starvation during the occupation and for that they were entitled to compensation. Subtly he pointed out that the cost of the materials and labour for essential repairs would be covered by the unpaid pensions of those who had died.
Dimitris sat, the figures on a pad before him, appearing to ignore the arguments around him. He waited for a temporary lull and then cleared his throat. ‘Gentlemen, if I may speak.’
Gradually they quieted and looked towards him expectantly.
‘Taking current prices for materials, labour and transportation, and allowing a margin for incidentals, by my reckoning we should have some money in hand. Before making a final decision I should like to check the figures for complete accuracy and also work out the probable time factor involved for the payment of labour. Assuming that we still come out on top I don’t see how we can refuse.’
‘I’d like to see it itemised.’
‘We should shop around for reasonable prices.’
‘I don’t see how we’ll get labour to work over there.’
‘We’ll probably have to pay them double.’
Dimitris tapped his pencil impatiently. ‘Do you want me to work on a breakdown of these figures?’
Hands were raised and the decision was almost unanimous.
When the council met again Dimitris had all the necessary figures, including the time it would take for materials to be assembled and the length of time the work should take. The council searched for faults, asked questions and finally had to agree that the work should go ahead. The next problem was who should act as co-ordinator, all of them were busy men and unwilling to give up their time.
Dimitris again suggested it should be left to him to find someone both willing and able to work for them. Already he had in mind his nephew, a young man not long out of High School. Glad to shift the responsibility onto another’s shoulders they agreed and Dimitris was able to tell Father Andreas that everything had been arranged.
At last Father Andreas felt he could pick up the threads of his life again. He took his responsibilities seriously and was worried by the neglect suffered by his parishioners during his absence. His flock were pleased to have him in their midst again and he was touched by the number who filled his tiny church that Sunday, lit a candle and touched the hem of his robe with their lips as they passed him. He loved them and it was gratifying to see that love returned.
He spent half an hour each morning on his knees in private devotions. The privacy and sense of communion he had at this time sustained him through the difficult and distressing times that he encountered so frequently and he was tempted to ignore the hammering on the church door that interrupted him. ‘Come in, my son.’
The young man shook his head. ‘They want you to come. To the hospital. Accident.’ He had obviously run all the way and was panting hard. ‘Urgent.’
Without ado Father Andreas followed, striding out to keep pace with the youngster
. An accident could mean any thing and any number. At the heavy door he paused and breathed deeply, hoping not to appear too exhausted. He was shown into the main ward and guessed he was needed at the far end. Surrounded by screens, the body of a Greek officer lay, bleeding profusely from the temple with fluid oozing gently from his ear. Andreas crossed himself. He doubted that he would hear a confession; all he could do was give absolution and pray. The doctor acknowledged him briefly as he entered.
‘Who is he?’
‘No idea; found on the road.’
Father Andreas fell to his knees. The name of the victim was unimportant. His soul would be recognised. He had prayed for the souls of so many unknown young men over the past few years, yet each time it was with a sadness that gripped his heart so hard that it hurt physically. Such a waste of youth!
‘He’s gone.’
Father Andreas lifted his eyes to see the doctor covering the body with a sheet. He rose from his knees, staying the doctor’s hand and peering at the face.
‘He’s not familiar to me. Is there anything in his pockets?’
Between them the two men began to turn out the contents of the trouser pockets. There was the usual miscellany of coins, scraps of paper and dust. His jacket pockets revealed little more, except, neatly folded into the inside breast pocket, was a passing out slip from the army, stamped as being issued in Athens four days earlier and signed by Commander Stelios Christoforakis. Andreas turned it over in his hand.
‘Well, at least it gives us his name if anyone enquires after him. He could come from miles away.’
Andreas looked again at the signature on the paper. ‘Maybe if I wrote to Athens they could let me know where he came from and I could visit the family or write to them?’
The doctor shrugged. That was the priest’s affair.
‘May I keep this?’
‘If you wish; it’s of no value to anyone now.’
Andreas pushed it into the pocket of his robes, took a last look at the shrouded body and left. He would write to Athens for information. It was the least he could do for the young man.
