by Beryl Darby
‘Follow me, please.’
Yannis shuffled down the corridor after his guide until they stopped before a white painted door. ‘Your room, sir.’ The door was unlocked and the key handed to Yannis. ‘I hope it will be to your liking. The bathroom is here,’ another door was thrown open, ‘and there is a communal dining room at the end of the corridor. Over here you will see a bell. Please use it if there is anything you need.’
Yannis lifted his eyes and looked around in disbelief. ‘I’m not a doctor.’
‘Mr Christoforakis, yes? This is the room that has been allotted to you. Number three.’
‘Where are the others?’
The man looked at his list. ‘Mr Chatzidakis is next door, number two, and Mr Psilakis is number four.’
‘Do they have rooms like this?’
‘Exactly, sir; they are all the same.’
Yannis sat down on the end of the bed. ‘When I was here before we were all in one large ward together.’
‘Things have changed, sir. We still have wards, of course, but they are a good deal smaller now. The patients don’t stay so long in them. Is there anything else, sir? If not, I’ll see to your luggage.’
Yannis shook his head. He was having trouble coming to terms with the speed with which things were happening. That morning he had been in his own little house on Spinalonga, now he was in Athens in a luxurious room. There was an air of unreality about the whole thing. He rose slowly and walked to the bathroom, stopping in awe at the doorway. He walked over to the basin and turned on the taps, watching, fascinated, as the water gushed from both of them. He pulled the chain hanging from the toilet cistern, stepping back as the water swirled before being sucked down the waste pipe and disgorged somewhere into a drain. The shower sprayed water at him and he pushed the handle the opposite way rapidly. This was unbelievable. A knock at the door made him turn to see the man returning with his two sacks of belongings and he fumbled in his pocket for a coin to tip him.
The man accepted the coin without a second glance, smiled at Yannis and shut the door behind him. Yannis wrenched it open, feeling beads of perspiration on his forehead and his whole body went limp with relief to find that it was not locked.
Mikalis leant out from his doorway and grinned. ‘This is luxury.’
Yannis beckoned him in. ‘Why do you think they’ve done this?’
‘I’ve no idea. Maybe they thought we were used to rooms like this.’
Yannis snorted. ‘They’re not that stupid. They’re up to something and I can’t for the life of me make out what it is yet.’
Mikalis shrugged. ‘Whilst I can live like this I don’t mind. I’ll unpack,’ said Mikalis. ‘Then I’m going to have a wash. I might even have a shower.’
Yannis nodded. There was something nagging at the back of his mind, which he could not put a name to, a feeling that was menacing him and making him feel very uneasy indeed
Yannis was annoyed and disappointed to find himself still there at the end of two months. Each day he asked when he would see a doctor and have tests and each time he was given an excuse. Finally he demanded to be taken to the doctor in charge, only to be told he was leaving the following day to attend a conference in Vienna and they would have to be patient. The International conference was of great importance, particularly to people who were in the same burnt-out condition as the people of Spinalonga. Yannis wrote a second letter to Nikos complaining of the delays, hoping the doctor in Heraklion would be true to his promise. Flora was pinched and miserable, Mikalis jubilant, he had received a visit from his wife for the first time in fourteen years, but the others were as despondent as Yannis.
‘I just want to go home,’ complained Sifis. ‘My vegetable plot was flourishing. Now it will be over-run with weeds and I’ll have lost a year’s crop.’
‘I’m worried about the hospital.’ Spiro’s face puckered into a frown. ‘I’m not trying to boast, but I had it running pretty smoothly. How are they managing without me?’
‘I just wish they’d get on with things. I’m worried that we’re the ones who are not burnt-out and that’s why they’ve brought us here,’ said Tassos.
‘Suppose, just suppose,’ Yannis spoke tentatively, eyeing his companions, ‘that there is no conference. It’s just another excuse to keep us here. I know,’ he held up his hand, ‘it was always me who was discontented and made impossible demands on the government. I was the one that instigated the riot that saw us all shipped off to Spinalonga, I pressed for compensation, for medicine and treatment after the war, and then a clean bill of health. We have no guarantee they plan to give us that. We are as much prisoners over here as we were twenty-five years ago, and I think we’ve got to do something about it.’
Spiro grinned. ‘I’m with you, Yannis. What are you planning to do? Another riot to get us all sent back?’
Yannis shook his head. ‘The first thing is to find out how long this conference is supposed to last, then the address where it’s being held.’
‘What do you plan to do then? Go there?’
Yannis shook his head. ‘My cousin’s husband is bound to be there. I’ll write to him and ask him to publicise our cause. The Greek government won’t like it and they’ll have to do something.’
Mikalis looked at Yannis in alarm. ‘I don’t want to go back. Whilst I’m here I can see my wife. She’s promised to bring my son and daughter-in-law with her next week.’
‘You stay.’ Yannis shrugged. ‘Anyone who’s happy here can stay as far as I’m concerned. All I want is our rights. We were brought over here for tests and we’ve not had a single one. I want to go out and see Athens. I might just as well be back home on Spinalonga as here. Do you agree with me?’
All except Mikalis nodded.
‘Then leave it with me.’
Yannis made his way down the maze of corridors from the annex of the hospital building and into the administration offices. He knocked on doors without receiving any answer until one yielded under his touch and he found himself looking into a room occupied by two men who were obviously not doctors.
‘Can I help you? Have you lost your way?’ The youngest rose, pushing his papers to one side with ink stained fingers.
‘No, I’m not lost. I’d just like some information.’
The man frowned and looked at his colleague. ‘What kind of information?’
‘I’d like to know how long the International Conference in Vienna is scheduled to run.’
The young man opened a diary on the desk and flicked over the pages. ‘According to this it will run for three weeks.’
‘I see. I do need to send an urgent letter to a relative who’ll be attending. Would it be possible for me to have the address?’
The clerk pursed his lips and looked to the other man for guidance again. There was a slight nod. With a sigh the clerk pulled a sheet of paper from a pile and wrote on it, handing it to Yannis who folded it and placed it in his pocket. ‘Thank you, you’ve been very helpful.’
Jubilantly Yannis hurried back down the corridors to the lounge where he had left the others. ‘I’ve got it! Now there’s no time to lose. I’ll write straight away and ask an orderly to post it tomorrow. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?’
Elias opened the letter in surprise, wondering whom he knew in Greece who would write to him. He had heard from his mother and uncle only the week before. He turned to the last page and read the signature “Yannis Christoforakis, your cousin.” He sighed. There was no time now to wade through the half dozen pages. Any minute he was due to be speaking on the advances made for the treatment of leprosy in America and the way in which the leprosarium there was run. He pushed the letter into his pocket, gathered his notes, and strode into the lecture hall.
His hour-long address to the listening doctors was met with polite applause and he left the platform feeling he had accomplished nothing. When he had invited questions only one man had spoken, then there were a few minutes of embarra
ssed silence before he vacated the platform to resume his seat. He spent the remainder of the morning listening to an Indian bewailing the plight of his nation in their unequal fight against not only the disease, but also the ignorance and poverty that the people suffered.
When he had finished Elias retired to the restaurant, choosing a table in the corner and whilst he ate his lunch he read the letter he had received. He would have to make some notes, then at least he would be able to ask relevant questions when the Greek representative spoke in two days time. He pushed his plate away and reached for his cigarette case.
He waited in eager anticipation for the day the Greek doctor was due to speak and settled back comfortably in his chair as the man took the platform. After the usual opening remarks he went on to say how deprived the country had been due to the occupation by the Germans during the war, how little money was available even now for treatment. He painted a glowing picture of the new hospital that had been built on the site of the old one, describing the facilities that long-term patients could expect, yet insisting that without international aid the treatment could not progress at the same rate as that enjoyed in the western world. Elias listened, amusement giving a small up-turn to his lips. This might be a medical conference, but it was turning into a begging campaign. Each country insisting they needed massive amounts of monetary aid to improve their medicine. Finally the Greek took his seat on the platform and waited for his words to be digested sufficiently before calling for questions.
Elias was on his feet. ‘I should like to ask a question.’ He waited for the nod of assent. ‘What is going to happen to the lepers from Spinalonga?’
There was complete silence. The doctor looked desperately at the chairman, who nodded. There was nothing irregular about the question. The doctor took a mouthful of water.
‘I do not fully understand the question.’
‘Then I will repeat myself, sir, and also expound. The lepers from Spinalonga have undergone protracted tests that have proved most of them to be burnt-out. I understand some of them were taken to hospital in Athens to undergo further tests. When these further tests prove a negative infection, what do you plan to do with these unfortunate men and women?’
The doctor licked his lips. ‘That’s a very difficult question for me to answer. It’s not entirely medical, but political also. I would not like to overstep the bounds of my ability.’
‘Why should it be political? Why should these people not be allowed to leave and live wherever they please?’
‘It’s not quite as simple as that. Although many of them appear to be healthy we don’t know enough about the disease to give them a completely clean bill of health. For all we know the disease could reappear at any time, striking them suddenly and fatally.’
‘In my experience that has never happened with a burnt-out case.’
A chorus of voices agreed with Elias and the Greek doctor looked around desperately at the chairman, who kept his eyes glued to the floor.
‘We do not feel we are in a position to be that positive.’
‘So what are you going to do with them?’ persisted Elias.
‘It has not been decided yet. I have not had an opportunity to examine the patients.’
‘Why not? I understand they arrived in Athens two months before you left for this conference.’
‘We thought it better to give them a chance to rehabilitate themselves. We do not wish to overawe them by asking probing questions until they are relaxed and familiar with their surroundings.’
Elias snorted. ‘These people are not primitive savages! A good many of them are well educated and had they not been stricken in their youth they could well be your politicians, lawyers, teachers or even doctors of today. I don’t feel they would be overawed in any way simply by being moved to Athens.’
‘We felt we should give them time. I intend to start my examination of their individual cases upon my return.’
‘And should you find them negative what will your recommendation be?
‘I would have to consult with my superiors.’
‘What would you like to see happen if they are negative?’
The doctor stood, silent and helpless under the merciless attack.
Elias tried again. ‘Would you like to see them kept in hospital if they have nothing wrong with them?’
‘There would be no need.’
‘So they could return to the island?’
‘I suppose so, if they wanted.’
‘Suppose they wished to live elsewhere?’
‘That would be up to the government.’
‘But you would be willing to see them leave the hospital and return to the island they consider to be their home?’
‘It would seem the most practical solution.’
‘I agree with you. For many it would probably be the only solution, but what of those who have families in other parts of Greece? Surely they should be allowed to return to them?’
The doctor shrugged. ‘I can’t answer that.’ He turned to the chairman. ‘Please, may I be released from this form of questioning? I do not feel it has any direct bearing on the conference.’
The chairman looked at Elias. ‘How many people’s lives are we discussing?’
‘About seventy.’
‘Then I think you should be satisfied with the answers given so far. The purpose of the conference is to discuss the suffering of some million or more, not to take up the cause of small groups, however worthy.’
‘Thank you, sir. I trust my questions and the answers were recorded.’ Elias resumed his seat. He knew he had discomfited the Greek doctor and he hoped it would have a beneficial effect. He would be visiting his family in Athens and could easily fit in a visit to the hospital, and if necessary, remind the doctor of the recorded conversation.
It was good to be home once more, to sit in the over-crowded, over-heated room and hear the sounds of Athens in the background. He wished he had been able to bring Annita with him, but she had become so Americanised he doubted that she would easily have been able to slip back into the role of the docile, Greek wife, even for a few weeks. She organised him, dictated to him and generally ruled his waking hours. He loved her dearly and admitted that without her continual management he would probably have become a recluse, dedicated to his research, and quite unfit to hold the important post that was his at the leprosarium.
It came almost as a shock to him when he realised he had already spent a week there and done no more than shopped for a present for Annita. He must visit the hospital and see Yannis. All the enthusiasm and fire he had experienced during the conference seemed to have dissipated from his body, leaving him weak and listless.
Without enthusiasm he propelled his steps in the direction of the hospital until he reached the gates. He traversed the grounds, pleased to see groups of patients sitting outside in the warm sunshine. At the information desk he asked for Yannis and was directed along the corridor to the unit of single rooms. There was no answer to his knock and he tried to find his way back, wandering as he did so into a small, secluded garden. The solitary occupant looked up and smiled.
‘Can I help you? Have you lost your way?’
‘I certainly have. I’m looking for Yannis Christoforakis. I went to his room, but there was no answer.’
‘He’s with the doctor. I don’t expect he’ll be much longer. You could wait here or go to the cafeteria. I can show you the way.’
‘I’ll wait here, if you don’t mind. It’s very pleasant.’
A look of sadness came over the girl’s face. ‘If only we could see the sea,’ she spoke wistfully.
‘You come from the coast?’
‘From Spinalonga. You can see the sea wherever you are on there. I do miss it.’
Elias looked at her. ‘Please, don’t think me impertinent, but may I ask you some questions?’
She looked from Elias to the door leading back into the hospital. ‘What do you wish t
o ask me?’
‘I’d like you to tell me about Spinalonga.’
‘There’s not much to tell. It’s just a small island, but at least you can walk where you please and do as you want.’
‘Can’t you do that here?’
Flora shook her head. ‘We’re not allowed to leave the grounds and they prefer us to stay round here rather than mix with the other patients.’
‘Why is that?’
‘I don’t know. We’re not infectious. It’s almost as though they want to hide us. Yannis is getting very cross. He blames himself. If he hadn’t continually pestered the government to say we could go wherever we wanted they wouldn’t have brought us over here. We could have stayed on the island where we were happy.’
‘Were you all happy there?’
Flora shrugged. ‘Most of us were. I was. Yannis was. There’s only Mikalis who likes being here and that’s because his family can visit him.’
‘A very good reason.’
‘I agree, but let him stay and let us go home.’
‘Wouldn’t some of the others from the island like to come here? Maybe they’d be able to see their families again then?’
‘Some of them would. That’s why it seems so unfair to have brought us.’
Elias nodded sympathetically. ‘What do you plan to do when you return to the island? Do you have a husband there?’
‘No.’ A guarded look came over Flora’s face. ‘Who are you anyway?’
‘I’m a specialist in leprosy. You needn’t be afraid of me.’
‘I’ll go and see if Yannis’s returned.’ Before Elias could say another word Flora had gone, rushing down the corridor, knocking on each door as she went. Grumbling the occupants came out, demanding to know what was wrong.
‘There’s a strange man in the garden. Says he wants Yannis, but he’s asking an awful lot of questions.’
‘Where is Yannis?’
‘With the doctor.’
‘I’ll come.’ Spiro reached for his jacket. ‘You wait here until Yannis gets back.’
Spiro sauntered into the garden. ‘I hear you’ve been asking for Yannis?’
