Next up for his legal services were Quentin and Deirdre, with Adonis along to translate. “They are buying the old ‘Lemoni Spiti’ in Rapanaki and need papers drawing up,” Adonis beamed.
“Tell them I hope they be happy in the falling down house,” Socrates instructed, putting a legal stamp on the papers.
By the time Petula took a seat in Socrates’ office she was nearly a nervous wreck, worried the Pappas may have spied her entrance from his window in the church. Socrates was very sad to see Petula sobbing openly as she admitted she did not know how much longer she could stay under the same roof as the Pappas. Socrates was shocked to hear the Pappas had banned Petula from the wedding of Fat Christos, but reassured her the Pappas had no inkling at all about the death of his goat.
“Patience Petula, my dear,” he said “it is no easy matter obtaining a divorce from the Pappas without leaving yourself homeless with no money. Let me think on it some more.”
Next up was Tassia who was calling in to discuss her substantial inheritance. She voiced her quiet concerns to Socrates that after fourteen years of courtship Fat Christos and she were finally to be wed, but now she had money she worried if she should protect her inheritance with a pre-nuptial wedding agreement.
As a traditional male chauvinist Socrates was shocked at the very thought of a woman protecting her worldly assets from her husband. He told Tassia “it is a good job no word of this conversation will reach Christos or he would have every right to call off the wedding. What is yours is his once you wed and you should put this pre-nuptial nonsense out of your head or resign yourself to remaining a spinster.”
Tassia was horrified at the prospect of becoming an unmarried mother and apologised to the lawyer for ever suggesting the pre-nuptial thing. Socrates patted her knee fondly and said it was a shame she had no male relatives to look out for her, but she could always trust him to look out for her best interests.
Chapter 72
Pre-Wedding Nerves
Tassia was busy comforting her future mother-in-law Mrs Kolokotronis who was suffering a serious attack of the vapours following the horrid excitement of the previous evening.
“To think my dearest friend Stavroula was nearly murdered in her back garden, now I won’t feel safe when Christos moves out to marry yous, leaving me all alone.”
Tassia naturally felt duty bound to offer old Mrs Kolokotronis a home with them if she felt the need of it. Mrs Kolokotronis considered the invitation showed Tassia to be a respectable daughter-in-law in spite of her reputation for being a dirty housekeeper and told her she would think on it.
Meanwhile Achilles the borrowed builder was due at any moment to put the finishing touches to her son’s bedroom which she was converting into a sewing room. Apparently he had some wonderful shower curtains he planned to nail up as a decorative feature and she found the idea most elegant.
All the wedding plans for the following day were in order. Tassia’s too tight dyed white polyester wedding dress was finally finished and her veil concealed the gaps in the back where the buttons strained to meet. All the guests had received their invitations and Stavroula was putting the finishing touches to the wedding cake.
Tassia had no idea where Fat Christos planned to whisk her off to for their honeymoon. She had overheard him on the telephone making travel plans for the evening of their wedding and was beside herself with excitement at the prospect of her first ever real holiday. She hoped he would prove to be a good husband and felt ashamed she had bothered the lawyer Slick Socrates with all that pre-wedding nerves pre-nuptial nonsense.
Life was looking very good to Tassia. After so many years of tending her ailing grouching father her life was about to take a turn for the better. She had a baby on the way and a supermarket to run with her new husband. While it was true Fat Christos had never exactly swept her off her feet he was often considerate and his weight loss had left him less sweaty. He hadn’t questioned how her pregnancy was already showing, even though it was less than a week since their first and only sexual encounter.
Tassia hoped her new friend mail order Masha would return from the plastic surgery clinic in time to attend her wedding, though she hoped she would not turn up in an outfit to outshine her on her special day.
Chapter 73
The Wedding
The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear. Fat Christos was relieved to be able to lie in his bed beyond the crack of dawn as he no longer needed to take his boat out and haul the fishing nets in. He breathed in the fresh salty air and took his final jog as a single man in the company of Quentin, watching Prosperous Pedros’ fishing boat head back to shore.
He presumed after his stomach stapling surgery he would have the energy and vigour of a much younger man and looked forward to being trim and slim, imagining he would even be able to turn heads in a good, rather than disgusting, way. He hadn’t realised until he began his weight loss journey just how much effort it took to drag his lard-like frame around.
The two men parted ways after their jog as Quentin and Deirdre were meeting Adonis and driving over to the ‘Lemoni Spiti’ before the wedding. Fat Christos went off to allow his mother to make some last minute alterations to the very shiny blue suit he had borrowed from Toothless Tasos, as it was already beginning feeling too loose.
Quentin and Deirdre were all dressed up in their wedding finery when Adonis pulled up in his pick-up truck to take them to another meeting with Achilles the borrowed builder. Deirdre wanted to discuss tiles with the borrowed builder. She had found a stunning picture of a recently discovered ancient Greek mosaic floor and wondered if Achilles could recreate it in the bathroom.
“Po po,” said Achilles. “Did-Rees that floor is two thousand years old, yous is better off with somethin’ more modern I am thinking.”
“But I love this particular style of a circle of sage old Greek heads embedded in tiles,” Deirdre insisted, to which Achilles replied,
“Did-Rees, believe me yous no want the head of Plato watching yous on the toilet. Now let us study these lovely shower curtains and I look yous some good new tiles at the hardware shop, not this second hand rubbish.”
Suddenly realising time was getting on Quentin and Deirdre told Adonis they needed to be back in Astakos for the wedding. As they reached the pick-up truck they were shocked to discover the neighbouring old crone Fotini had installed herself in the passenger seat, dressed to the nines in the very finest the hardware shop had to offer in hideous old lady dresses, matching black pop socks and an oversized hat brimming with garish plastic flowers.
“What are you doing in ‘ere Kyria Fotini?” Adonis questioned.
“I am waiting for my husband to take me to the wedding,” Fotini replied.
“Yous husband is in Athens,” Adonis told her, to which she demanded he accompany her to the wedding instead. A long argument ensued as Adonis tried to persuade the old crone to return to her house, but she was having none of it. She was quite determined to go to the wedding and ended up sitting on Quentin’s knee as the four of them squeezed onto the front seat of the pick-up.
“No frisky business,” Fotini warned Quentin as her hat stabbed him painfully in the eye with a plastic tulip.
The foursome made it to the church with only minutes to spare before the bride arrived. Fotini left the others in her wake as she strode decisively to the very front pew, taking a seat beside Mrs Kolokotronis who unsuccessfully tried to shoo her away.
“No one invited you,” Mrs Kolokotronis hissed at Fotini who replied “you think at my age I care. I come to spit on the bride,” referring to the traditional custom of spitting on the bride for good luck.
Thea was seated beside Toothless Tasos looking suitably goddess- like in a tasteful pastel suit she had secured at a very good price from the home shopping channel. Thea wondered if she would be next up the aisle and began to fantasise about her fourth wedding dress. Stavroula was sporting a floral scarf to hide her extensive bruising and was accompanied by Slick Socrates
in an expensive slick suit which put the groom’s borrowed attire to shame.
Mail order Masha had made it back to the village just in time to attend the service with Vasilis. Masha’s surgical interventions had been most successful. Her punctured and deflated boob was once again full of silicone and standing up to attention, her disastrous trout pout had deflated to a perky moue and her bottom was voluptuously full although admittedly difficult to sit on. She wore a green velvet evening gown covered in donkey hairs and looked most out of place at a noon time wedding.
The fishermen had all made an effort to spray their fishy clothes with air freshener to disguise the smell and Gorgeous Yiorgos had even run a handful of extra virgin olive oil through his boot polished hair.
Quentin and Deirdre could not understand everything that was going on, yet Deirdre still managed to shed a tear as the Pappas pronounced Fat Christos and Tassia man and wife. Deirdre thought Tassia looked delightfully old fashioned in her home made dress, but she seemed to have put on a lot of weight very quickly.
As the Pappas stepped forward to bestow a blessing on the newlyweds he caught sight of the engagement ring on Tassia’s finger and exploded in sudden anger, accusing the bride of theft and demanding the police come and lock her up.
“You steal my wife’s engagement ring you ‘orrible woman,” he screamed, shoving her violently into a pew. Tassia burst into tears as Fat Christos assured her he could explain and Gorgeous Yiorgos tried to calm the situation down.
“Po po, you think that woman bad,” Fotini piped up, grabbing hold of the Pappas’s skirt. “Your ‘orrible wife ran over your goat with ‘is car,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at Gorgeous Yiorgos “and they all eat it at taverna,” she cackled manically. Fotini had not had so much fun in years and as Tassia fled down the aisle in tears Fotini spat repeatedly all over her new dress.
Fat Christos hurried after his new bride to console her while the Pappas was frozen to the spot with horror at the thought his congregation had gorged themselves on his darling pet goat Krasi, murdered by his deceitful wife. He imagined how they must have all laughed behind his back and felt the sharp pang of humiliation.
Storming from the church he left a shell shocked congregation behind him. Each spectator was mortified at the events that had just unfolded but were collectively relieved the marriage was at least made official before the Pappas officially lost it.
Chapter 74
The DNA Sample
Fat Christos caught up with the tear and spit sodden Tassia outside the church. He was filled with shame at the turn the wedding had taken and was keen to reassure his new bride the matter of the stolen ring was all a misunderstanding. Gorgeous Yiorgos was quick to back Fat Christos up and confessed he had been remiss in not making more effort to recover Petula’s ring as she had requested once the Pappas had realised it was missing.
Tassia was most relieved to hear Petula had sold her own ring and it had not ended up on her own finger through an act of theft. She took the engagement ring off her finger and implored Gorgeous Yiorgos to please return it to Petula. Fat Christos promised to buy Tassia another ring but made it clear to Gorgeous Yiorgos he expected his money back for the other one.
As the rest of the wedding guests exited the church and began to make their way to Stavroulas for the celebration they spotted Fotini being physically carried from the church in a fireman’s lift by her totally embarrassed son Prosperous Pedros. Pedros was furious his mother had turned up uninvited at the wedding and made such a horrendous scene. He was determined to get her back to Rapanaki and lock her up in the kitchen.
“Did you see the way our new neighbour spat all over poor Tassia’s lovely new dress?” Deirdre said in disgust to Quentin.
“Ah it is old tradition to spit,” Adonis assured them “it meant to bring good luck. Only the old people do it now and after this old generation gone will be no spit left.”
“Well I think it is just awful,” said Deirdre, pulling out a handkerchief and rushing over to dab the spit up from Tassia’s wedding dress. Tassia was overcome with the older woman’s kind gesture and managed a half-hearted smile, hoping the events in the church had not totally ruined her special day.
Tassia smiled a real smile as she saw her new friend mail order Masha posing provocatively for the wedding photographer.
“I like your new bottom,” Tassia told her “but what a pity you couldn’t have just injected some of my new husband’s fat into it instead of that potentially toxic chemical mix.”
Mail order Masha pulled her husband aside and whispered to him the clinic had just phoned with the results of Stavroula’s DNA sample. The meddling Pappas had been correct and Stavroula was indeed the result of that old fool Vasilis’ long ago passionate fling in an overgrown olive grove with the lovely Melina.
“Better she ‘ear it from you than the foul blackmailing drunken Pappas,” Masha wisely advised.
Vasilis was overcome with emotion at the news that at the age of eighty four it had just been definitively confirmed he was a father for the very first time. As he begged his wife’s forgiveness Masha assured him there was nothing to forgive as his indiscretion had occurred long before she was even born.
“We make best of it,” she told him in the level headed Russian way that made him adore her.
After the wedding party had dined on Stavroula’s finest offerings of delightful mixed meze the tables were pushed back for a vigorous bout of Greek dancing. Vasilis took Stavroula aside and told her he needed a quiet word of great importance.
“Stavroula I have some news that may shock you my dear,” he began “but your parentage is not all as it seems. I have just learnt that without a doubt I am your father, the DNA it prove it.”
Stavroula did not appear to be as shocked as Vasilis had expected at this sudden news.
“How long have you known?” was her first question, to which Vasilis truthfully told her he had only recently heard but it had that very day been confirmed by indisputable scientific DNA evidence.
“Ha, that is why Masha wanted my hair,” Stavroula surmised. She wanted to know how Vasilis had heard and the story of her mother’s death bed confession and the blackmailing Pappas came out.
“He know all this time and never a word the malaka,” Stavroula said, disgusted by the Pappas’ deceitful behaviour.
Stavroula told her new father many years ago her mother had admitted she had never loved her husband Gregoris, the master butcher. It had been an arranged and loveless marriage, but Melina told her daughter she had experienced love and romance just once and the memories of it had kept her going for her lifetime. She had never revealed the name of the man she had loved nor revealed the fact she had strayed in an overgrown olive grove, but Stavroula had harboured a secret suspicion Gregoris was not in fact her real father.
Never in Stavroula’s wildest imagination could she imagine that old fool Vasilis was the love of her mother’s life and he was indeed her father. He was hardly the noble figure her imagination had conjured and she told Vasilis she needed time to come to term with the news.
“Oh my, this means mail order Masha is now my step-mother,” she sighed in horror, as she went inside to break the shocking news to Socrates.
Chapter 75
Shirley Valentine
For some strange reason Bald Yannis could not fathom he had not been invited to the wedding. It irked him he appeared so unpopular when even those strange American tourists had been included in the celebration. Mindful of his new civic duties Bald Yannis had volunteered to take the first nightly patrol on washing line duty, even though he knew it was a waste of time as he had no intention of catching himself.
He still had his large stolen collection of women’s underwear to dispose of and he wondered if he could use it to lay a false trail. Even though no finger of suspicion had pointed his way he would feel more secure if someone else took the blame. The gossip at the kafenion centred on who exactly had an alibi for the night of the attack a
nd Bald Yannis realised he may well need an alibi in addition to a fake suspect.
He soon eavesdropped Gorgeous Yiorgos had stood up Thea on the night of the attack, pleading exhaustion after his secret driving lesson with Petula. This gossip gem had been revealed as part of a conversation about the increasing closeness between Toothless Tasos and Thea, rather than about Gorgeous Yiorgos’ lack of an alibi, yet Bald Yannis decided to turn the information to his advantage.
He would wait until he was on his nightly washing line patrol duty and under cover of darkness he would plant some of the stolen underwear in Gorgeous Yiorgos’ chicken coop. He would also plant some in Moronic Mitsos’ rowing boat he decided, and perhaps some more in the garden of the Pappas. That would keep the village snoops busy and deflect all suspicion from him.
Bald Yannis greeted Moronic Mitsos most heartily as a fellow reject from the wedding celebrations. Moronic Mitsos openly scoffed at the terrible toupee Bald Yannis was wearing, which irked his sense of vanity no end.
“Another woman answer your online advert looking for a Greek god with a rowing boat, I mean yacht,” Bald Yannis told Mitsos. “Would you like me to read you her reply as it is English?”
Moronic Mitsos ordered them both a coffee and settled down to hear the letter Bald Yannis had penned which he pretended was from a middle aged English woman called Shirley Valentine who professed she was a bored housewife looking for a romantic interlude with a handsome Greek with a yacht. Bald Yannis had even printed off a photograph of the actress Pauline Collins who had taken the eponymous role in the film ‘Shirley Valentine’, which he knew full well Moronic Mitsos had never heard of.
Goat In The Meze: A farcical look at Greek life (The Greek Meze Series Book 1) Page 15
