Summer in Greece

by Patricia Wilson

  *

  They arrived in Syros at lunchtime, and both were hungry again. They moored up, then sat at a quayside table.

  Shelly stared around, trying to imagine the dancing bear, Gertie’s first kiss, and searching the shops for loukoumi. She wondered about the house where Manno and Gertie had made love. Then she stared out to sea and wondered how many war ships had docked there, remembering all the ships that came to fill up with water.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Harry asked.

  ‘I’m just trying to remember how it was when I came here as a child. My great-grandmother was here too. I was four or five, and she was an old woman. Every afternoon she’d disappear, and not return until dinnertime, all red-eyed and weepy. We never discovered where she went, but you’ve listened to the tapes now. I think she went to Manno’s grave, or even Adam’s grave, wherever that is.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, she didn’t. I actually know where she went.’

  Shelly sat up. ‘What? Where?’

  ‘Are you ready to order?’ the waiter said.

  Shelly blinked at him, trying to unravel the mystery and think of food at the same time. ‘Er, village salad and lamb chops,’ she said and turned to Harry. ‘Where did she go?’

  ‘One moment.’ He turned to the waiter. ‘The same for me, and a large bottle of water.’

  ‘Where?’ Shelly insisted.

  ‘Well, that’s my surprise, so don’t spoil it now. I’ll take you there as soon as we’ve eaten.’

  ‘Give me a clue?’

  ‘No clues. Now stop pestering me, and don’t bother batting your eyelashes like that. I have a will of iron.’

  Shelly’s shoulders dropped. ‘I think you’re terribly mean, but I’ll let you off just this once.’

  *

  ‘That was the most delicious food! Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome, now if you are up to it, we have quite a walk ahead of us.’

  ‘So, come on, where are we going?’

  ‘Still not telling. You just have to tag along, but, it will be worth it, and I promise you’ll love it. First, we have to check in, but we’re just over the road, so that will only take a minute. Then, I am going to show you something so amazing, I will have you under my spell forever.’

  ‘I think you’ve managed that already,’ she whispered.

  He met her eyes and smiled. ‘You bewitch me,’ he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. ‘Come on, we don’t have all day!’

  Ten minutes later, they were striding uphill, panting and perspiring. ‘Slow down!’ Shelly cried.

  ‘I can’t. We have an appointment. We’re running out of time. Come on!’ he called, taking her hand and tugging her onward and upward. They staggered up steps, panted up pathways, and blazed up backstreets too steep for cars or scooters. Finally, they arrived at the top of the hill and from outside the great monastery of St George, they looked down on the harbour town of Ermoupoli and the port of Syros.

  ‘What an amazing view! Have I got time to take some photographs?’

  ‘Not now, we’re late,’ Harry said quietly. ‘Whatever happens next, I want you to understand that I have done this with your best interests at heart.’

  Shelly nodded. ‘I understand, but what have you done?’

  ‘You’re about to find out.’ He knocked on the great oak door, and after a moment, it was heaved open by a hooded monk. ‘Father, this is Shelly Summer, great-granddaughter of Gertrude Smith who died in 1998.’

  ‘Welcome. Please follow me,’ the old abbot said, lifting his head enough for them to see a clean-shaven chin and a kind mouth below his cowl. They followed him through the most beautiful church with cream marble columns and stunning murals on the walls that depicted religious scenes. After the church, they passed through cloisters to a row of monks’ cells, and Shelly noticed one with the door slightly ajar. ‘Please go in,’ the abbot said.

  Harry held his arm out, inviting Shelly to enter first. Her nerves jangled.

  ‘Don’t be afraid,’ Harry said as she peered at the wizened monk sitting in an armchair, inside. ‘Shelly Summer, I’d like you to meet your grandfather, Adam Smith.’

  Shelly gasped. ‘My grandfather, Adam? Gran Gertie’s son? Oh, my goodness!’ Completely overwhelmed, she felt her tears rise as she dropped to her knees at his feet. ‘Grandad Adam, this is a miracle, to meet you after all these years of wondering what happened to you.’

  Suddenly, she realised the truth. Gertie believed this was her punishment, to have her son taken from her. To believe he was dead, and then discover he had become a monk.

  Shocked and confused, she turned to Harry. ‘How did you find him?’

  ‘I didn’t. I’ve always known him, but didn’t make the connection until I heard Gran Gertie’s tape. I told you an English architect saved my father’s life by pushing him out of danger, but the architect was badly injured himself.’ Shelly nodded. ‘That man was Adam. He was in a coma for a long time, and had no memory when he finally regained consciousness. The monks adopted him, and as he recovered, some of his memory slowly returned over the years; then, he decided to join the order.’

  The old monk nodded. ‘My mother came to visit me, long ago,’ he said quietly with a distant look on his face. ‘She said I had a daughter, Margarete, and a granddaughter, Shelly, and one day, when I was better, they would come here. They never came. I’ve been waiting so long. So long.’

  ‘Dear grandfather, I am Shelly. My mother would have come, but Gran Gertie died before she told anyone that she’d found you. I’m sorry, but my mother was killed in a car accident more than twenty years ago. Gran Gertie, your mother, told me so much about you. How you loved maths at school and that you became a great bridge builder. She said you were very handsome, like your father, Manno. I’m so pleased to meet you. Did you know, although your mother named you Adam, your father named you Hephaestus, blacksmith of the gods?’

  He stared for a moment, and then smiled widely. ‘No, I didn’t know.’

  ‘Your father, Manno, sold his father’s fishing boat to the mayor of Kea and with the money, bought a ticket to England to see you just after your birth.’

  ‘Why didn’t they marry?’

  ‘Well, they sort of did marry, actually. It was their intention, and Manno did put a ring on her wedding finger, it was shaped like a dolphin. Wartime, and the distance between them, made everything difficult. When the mine injured Manno and he knew he wouldn’t live, he sent your mother a gold wedding ring, via carrier pigeon, and got the priest to write his wedding vows. He wrote a letter to you, too. Wait, I’ll read it to you.’ Suddenly overwhelmed, she turned to Harry. ‘I can hardly speak. Thank you. Can you pull up a tape on your phone? I think it’s side twenty.’

  She sat on the edge of Adam’s bed and took his wrinkled hand in hers. ‘This is your mother’s voice, a few years before she died. Harry nodded and passed her his phone and she pressed play. They all listened.

  ‘We went to Syros for a holiday. This was because nobody minded where we went, apart from me. That island, and the one afternoon I spent there in the arms of my darling Manno, had shaped my life, so I wanted to return, one more time, before I died.

  ‘We all went to Syros, and it was on that holiday that I finally found my son, my precious Adam. I loved that boy so much, and wished things could have been different, but of course they could not. I had to do penance for my crimes because I did not want the sins of the mother to be passed onto her child. My boy was everything to me, and I pray I will see him in heaven one day.’

  ‘I don’t have a recording of your father’s voice, but I do have the original letter with his wedding vows that he sent her when he was dying, and his heartfelt words to you. Gosh, it must be a hundred years old now.’

  ‘A hundred and three,’ the old monk said.

  Shelly blinked at her wizened grandfather. ‘Let me try to remember what it said.’

  ‘I’ve got it,’ Harry said. ‘You took a photo of it and sent it to
me. Wait . . . yes, here it is.’

  He passed the phone back to her again, And Shelly read it aloud.

  Adam’s face was hidden by his hood, but Shelly felt the splash of a tear on the back of her hand. ‘I fear we’ve overtired you. We’ll leave you in peace, and come back tomorrow, if that’s all right?’ She leaned forward, dipped under his cowl, and pressed her face against his wet cheek. ‘I’m so glad I found you, Grandfather.’

  *

  That night, Shelly stared into the dark. Meeting her grandfather had changed her. She couldn’t explain why. She didn’t know him, had never met him before, or missed him in any way. Yet, after her visit, she felt complete, as if the last part of her jigsaw had fallen into place.

  She wondered if her grandfather felt the same. Her answer came the next morning at breakfast, when the receptionist approached their table with a note that said she had to go up to the monastery.

  ‘He simply didn’t wake this morning,’ the abbot explained. ‘There was a note at the side of his bed and I’m sure it was meant for you.’ He passed it over.

  Shelly looked at the single word, written in Greek. ‘I’m sorry, what does it say?’

  ‘It simply says, “Thank you,”’ the abbot said.

  CHAPTER 51

  GERTIE

  Dover, 1917.

  FOR MANNO AND ADAM I will wear black to the end of my days.

  The rest you probably know. Margarete, Shelly, whoever you are listening to this story, I hope you are happy, and also find love. If you do, hold onto it with all the strength you have. Life is not easy, but it is a lot easier with someone who loves you standing by your side. Tell your children and grandchildren about me, about my story.

  I only have one more thing to say. I don’t know if you remember the holiday we all went on, together as a family. Gordon, Margarete and little Shelly. It was 1989 and Shelly had just started school. Gordon had a small win on Vernons football pools after correctly choosing seven draws out of eight in a line. Oh, my goodness, he was so excited he danced the polka around the garden with your mother, and I nearly split my sides laughing. The result was a second dividend of five hundred pounds; such a lot of money in those days, and certainly more than he ever had in spare change before.

  We went to Syros, and I found my precious Adam. I loved that boy so much and wished things could have been different, but they could not. I had to do penance for my crimes, simply because I didn’t want the sins of the mother to be passed onto her children and grandchildren. Adam was in the monastery, being looked after by the monks. I saw him, held his hand, and told him so many things.

  I’m not sure that he knew who I was, and there was no way I could have transferred him to England, so I decided that this was the cost of my sins. To lose both the man I adored and his son. I believe I’ve paid for my sins, and nobody else will suffer because of my actions. My great wrongdoing, to lie about my age, and to disobey orders and open the portholes, had led to so much sadness and loss. If only we could see the future consequences of small actions, before we make our mistakes.

  Go to Syros, dear listener. See the island and think of me, and all those I’ve loved so much. The place has a kind of magic that I can’t describe, I think it must be due to all the churches, all those pockets of peace. I visited every one, walked through every door, and on that last trip, prayed for every person that I love, including you both, Margarete and Shelly. So, I hope God has answered my supplications and given you a blessed life. Whatever happens, just remember those words from Matron Merriberry: the past can’t be changed, so don’t waste your life dwelling on it. The past only has one purpose, to teach us not to make the same mistakes in the future.’

  More than anything, I wish that you give and receive lots of love, through your entire life.

  You have all mine.

  CHAPTER 52

  SHELLY

  Dover, Christmas Eve.

  ‘I’M REALLY EXCITED, DAD. OUR first Christmas in twenty years, what an occasion.’ Shelly pushed a drawing pin through a red foiled decoration and into the beam. As she turned to come down the stepladder, she spotted the taxi pulling up outside. ‘They’re here! Quick, let’s put the steps away. Can you turn the tree lights on?’

  ‘’Ere, why don’t we make an occasion of it, like yer mum did? Glass of sherry, “Silent Night”, mince pies, you know. Throw the switch . . . nothing works . . . ha-ha!’

  Shelly laughed. ‘You’re right, we will. I’m so excited!’ She shoved the steps under the stairs and answered the front door.

  ‘Harry! Elias and Petros! I’m so happy to see you. Come in, come in.’ Shelly kissed everyone and whispered, ‘I love you,’ into Harry’s ear as she took his coat. The men huddled around the wood burner, rubbing their hands together.

  ‘Hi, I’m DJ. Pleased to meet you guys.’ He shook hands with everyone. ‘You’re just in time for the tree lights tradition.’

  Harry grinned. ‘How does that go?’

  DJ said, ‘First we have some toasts.’

  ‘We ate on the plane,’ Elias scowled.

  ‘No, he doesn’t mean a cheese and ham toastie, you’re not in Greece now, bro.’ Petros said. ‘He means they say a few important words.’

  ‘That’s right. First we turn the lights on the tree, then all go to the pub and get drunk.’ DJ poured out a tray of sherry and said, ‘Alexa, Christmas mix.’ Then, to the sound of ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’, he handed everyone a drink.

  They all cried, ‘Happy Christmas!’ and chinked glasses. Harry, Elias, and Petros faced each other, tapped the bottom of their glasses on the table, and knocked back the expensive sherry in one.

  DJ’s eyes widened.

  ‘Only the English would have raki glasses this posh!’ Elias exclaimed, and they all laughed.

  Shelly and DJ exchanged a glance. Shelly’s eyebrows twitched, and she made the slightest nod at the sherry bottle.

  DJ refilled their glasses. ‘Sorry we don’t have any raki. I must warn you, this stuff will give you the mother and father of all headaches. That’s why everyone sips it.’

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ Elias said. ‘I’d have brought you some proper raki if I’d known.’

  Gordon stood and stuck his chest out. ‘As head of this family, it’s for me to make the first toast. Please raise your glasses to absent friends, especially my wife, Maggie.’ He cleared his throat. ‘This is the first Christmas we’ve celebrated since she was killed on Christmas Eve, twenty-one years ago.’

  There was a second of emotionally charged silence while Shelly slipped her arm around her father.

  ‘To absent friends,’ everyone cried and took a sip of sherry.

  Shelly raised her glass and thought about David and her first summer in Greece, and the years she had spent in a bubble of sadness and regret. Thank you for letting me go, my darling David. I will never forget you, or the love we had. She stood and glanced at everyone in turn. ‘I’d also like us all to remember those who can’t be with us today – friends, relations, mothers, fathers, lovers, grandmothers and everyone we care about – to wish them every happiness wherever they are.’

  When each of them had voiced a toast, Shelly raised her glass again. ‘Just one more, as we are all coming to visit you, in Kea, next: please all raise your glasses to summer in Greece!’

  ‘Summer in Greece!’ they cried in unison.

  ‘Right, Dad, will you do the honours?’ Shelly nodded at the Christmas tree.

  Gordon plugged in and threw the switch. The lights flickered, went out, came back on and pulsed away. Everyone cheered and clapped and Gordon beamed like it was a personal triumph.

  ‘Right, DJ, will you drive the boys and their cases to The Rose and Crown?’ She turned to Harry. ‘That’s where everyone is staying, and also, that’s where we’re having Christmas dinner tomorrow. Too many of us to do it here.’

  The doorbell chimed. ‘Eve, come in!’ Shelly cried. ‘Harry, this is my business partner and best friend, Eve.’r />
  Eve blinked at everybody. ‘Wow! A house full of handsome men all to yourself, no wonder you kept going back to Greece!’ Everyone laughed as Eve leaned towards Harry offering her cheeks for kisses and throwing an approving wink at Shelly.

  ‘’Ere, I want one of those, Eve love,’ Gordon called, and everyone laughed again.

  ‘I’ve come to see if you need lifts,’ Eve said. ‘Bill and Malcolm and DJ’s girlfriend and her friends are already in the pub, organising karaoke.’

  ‘Great,’ Elias said. ‘I’m not bad at karaoke, even if I say so myself.’

  ‘Thinks he’s Jay-Z,’ Petros teased.

  ‘Brilliant,’ Shelly said to Eve. ‘That would be a great help. If you could take Elias and Petros, Eve. Then, DJ could take Harry in the Beetle.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘I’ll bring Dad in a few minutes.’

  ‘You’ve got a Beetle, that’s so cool, man!’ Petros said as they went out of the door.

  Suddenly, the house was quiet apart from the haunting melody of ‘Silent Night’.

  Shelly and her father exchanged a sad smile. ‘It’s Christmas Eve, Dad, come on. We have a wreath to lay.’ She helped him into his coat and they stepped into the front porch at just that same time as her mother had, twenty-one years ago. Shelly lifted the beautiful Christmas wreath off the front door, the first one to hang there since. Then, she linked arms with her father and together, they carried it towards the bus stop on the bend.

  ‘Rest in peace, my dearest Maggie,’ Gordon whispered as they placed the garland on the seat.

  ‘She was a wonderful mother,’ Shelly said, hugging her father and feeling her tears gather.

  Gordon gasped, then his gloved hand went over his mouth as he turned to Shelly.

  ‘Bugger! I forgot to take the mince pies out!’ he cried, breaking away from her arms and rushing back towards the cottage.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, Shelly heard her mother’s last words: Give me a kiss, my darling daughter, and don’t let the mince pies burn.

  She looked up to the sky and started to laugh, and as her laughter flew in the frosty air, she experienced so much joy and relief, her feet seemed to leave the pavement and her heart floated towards heaven like a red foil balloon. ‘Thanks, Mum. Happy Christmas,’ she whispered.