Chapter 8
A Girl Called Ismene
Morgan sat outside the Village Taverna, drank an ice cold Heineken and smoked his third cigarette of the evening. Of course he was a bit unkempt in appearance after his ten days at sea. His hair had grown untidy, with blonde highlights more prominent than ever after exposure to the sea and sun. He glanced down at his wrist at a pale strap line where his watch was, and realised how tanned he had become. His arms and legs were now covered in blonde hair, and his skin was peeling slightly from the effects of sunburn.
It was now late Friday afternoon, and the streets of Larnaca were becoming busy as workers from the administrative centre of the town, made their way home for the weekend. It was extremely busy along Finikoudes Promenade, which stretched along the sea front of Larnaca Bay. Larnaca itself Morgan had noticed on his walk from the marina was a bustling place with plenty of shops, restaurants, pubs and clubs. To help tidy up his appearance, he had bought a new Lacoste shirt. To make a favourable impression with Ismene he had bought her a Guess bracelet, which lay with his bags under the red and white chequered table.
Morgan relaxed and soaked up the atmosphere as daytime started to change into evening and the taverna started to come to life with hungry tourists and local families from the modern town. It reminded him of his youth spent in his father’s cafe in Sheffield. Memories of his father came flooding back, as delightful aromas of coffee and Greek food filled the alfresco area of the restaurant.
He had certainly been blessed with a good upbringing, and he knew how to charm people, he had wasted no time in introducing himself to Helena who was working the bar on his arrival. George Gallas had initially forgiven him for mistaking her for Ismene. ‘Looks wise they could have been twins!’ the father had said laughing at Morgan’s easy mistake. ‘Everyone does it, sometimes I have to look twice!’ the big man had joked to put Morgan at ease. After that the conversation was relaxed. Morgan explained he was in town to pickup a yacht from the marina. Ismene had said, "To pop in and see her father."
Unexpectedly the large man had that second called Ismene on her mobile, and asked her to come home immediately. Apparently she had a guest waiting. This was all very confusing to Morgan, who thought she would still be in England.
Ten minutes later he was ushered to the outside table where he now sat nervously waiting for her to arrive. He thought back to their only meeting at the Easy Jet desk at Manchester Airport and wondered if she would recognise him. As he drank another lager and watched the traffic crawl by, his eyes were suddenly drawn to a women carrying lots of brightly coloured boutique shopping bags. She wore a black dress and had large sunglasses holding her straight black hair in place. Her appearance was very business like and made her look confident. She moved quickly from the crowded footpath, across the threshold of the taverna to be welcomed by her father. Morgan watched, and then couldn’t break his stare as she turned in his direction and smiled.
She left the bar area minutes later after having a lengthy discussion with her father and joined him at the table with a cold bottle of wine and two glasses, her sisters and father could be seen watching the stranger from the interior of the establishment.
‘Yia sou Morgan.’ Ismene sat down and poured herself a large glass of wine.
Morgan felt a little uneasy at his unexpected company. ‘Well this is a pleasant surprise to see you.’ he started the conversation.
‘Well isn’t that why you’re here?’ she said cheekily, as she crossed her legs and sat back to stare at him directly.
‘Well I mean I didn’t expect you to be here!’
“Then why come?’ she asked.
‘Well you said, if I was passing by. You know collecting a yacht, then I should stop by,’ he said, feeling a little unwanted.
That was before the police questioned me and I found out exactly who you are, and what you’re wrapped up in! ‘Before I lost my job at the airline and got deported - they say for helping you escape!’ she scoffed. ‘How the hell was I supposed to know you were on the run!’ she drank from her glass.
The conversation dried for a time until Morgan thought carefully about what to say. ‘Listen I can’t be that bad if you’re here talking to me now, face to face.’ he tried to reason with her.
‘My problem is I’ve always been a sucker for boys like you, who are no good for me!’ she looked back in the direction of the bar, before realising a police car was parking up on the street. ‘I’m here talking with you because my father wants me to get rid of you. He doesn’t want any trouble here. He can’t afford to get involved in your life.’
Morgan frowned and then replied. ‘I don’t want anything from you or your family. I just wanted to say hello. I’m sorry about you getting into trouble over me. I’m grateful you were just doing your job and our paths crossed, who knows - otherwise I might be in jail or dead by now!’ he was genuinely upset and hurt by her rejection.
“Ever since my mother died I have had to look after my father and sisters. You can understand I need to protect my family.
‘Oh! I didn’t realise!’ he said sympathetically, it’s not easy when you lose your mum!’ he became sad as he looked at her.
Ismene ignored his sympathy she was distracted by the police, who were handing out parking tickets. ‘The mafia have connections everywhere, even here. They will eventually find you, it’s only a matter of time.’
‘I don’t worry anymore it’s become an unwelcome part of my life and who I am now. I would do anything to go back to the life I had, anything to get my dad back. Now I am all alone, but it’s easier that way. At least until I get satisfaction over the people who started all of this!’
Ismene sat at his side and relaxed a little as the police wandered off down the street to annoy illegally parked owners of cars. People could be heard getting agitated as they confronted the uniformed officers in the distance. ‘Here have a drink.’ she said pouring out a measure of wine for the boy before gesturing OK to her father behind the bar.
They relaxed for a few minutes, and Morgan studied her a little more deeply as she flicked her hair from her face. She was indeed pretty with deep brown eyes, long eye lashes and a freckled face. Her dress made her look sophisticated in comparison to his rougher weathered look. He watched Ismene as she left the table to approach her family, who had now all gathered behind the bar. Ten minutes later, after a heated discussion, she returned with a basket of bread and a salad. ‘You are our guest and have come far, so you will dine, but then you will have to go. It is too dangerous for you to stay here!’
Morgan was puzzled but relieved at her change of mood. ‘I would like that!’ They sat and ate the range of dishes that her younger sister Helena brought out, and then drank some more wine as night fell. ‘I nearly forgot, I brought you a little gift!’ he rummaged around in his backpack to retrieve the black jewellery box. ‘I'm sorry it’s not wrapped.’
Ismene blushed a little and then opened it slowly. ‘Wow!’ she was completely taken off guard.
‘Do you like it?’ she remained silent. ‘Please put it on, let me help you.’ Morgan gave her assistance in wrapping it around her right wrist.
‘Thank you, it’s lovely!’ she admired the silver bracelet that was decorated with trinkets encrusted in silver and crystals.
Morgan was pleased. It suited her just as he had imagined. They both smiled at one another as Helena returned and banged on the table in an envious manner. Helena scowled at Morgan, before leaving with their finished dinner plates. She then shouted back to her father in Greek. Ismene reacted angrily, her sister had been spying on them.
Some time longer than expected, Morgan rose from his chair. ‘The food was lovely, pity it has to end so soon.’ he began to leave.
‘I will pass the compliment on!’ She laughed at Morgan.
‘Can you recommend a good hotel, where I can stay?’ he asked.
‘What's your budget?’ she watched him pick
up his bags and throw them over his shoulder.
‘Oh something expensive, no slumming for me this weekend. I’ve had enough of that recently. I need a decent nights sleep. Is there a really good hotel nearby?’
Ismene smiled and shouted to her father across the tables. Instantly a reply came back. ‘My father recommends the Louis Princess Beach.’ She laughed. ‘He will phone for a taxi to take you there!’
Moments later a cab pulled up a blew its horn. As he left he felt strange. He wanted to stay, he wanted to talk more with the girl he had only briefly got to know but liked immensely. They both followed each others gaze, as he climbed into the cab and it moved away. Morgan held up his hand to say goodbye shortly afterwards he could think of nothing but her.
Once he had settled into his room at the Louis Princess Beach hotel he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, he couldn’t seem to get the girl out of his mind. He felt a longing to call her and talk to her. To just be with her, but he realised he shouldn’t. Perhaps it was too dangerous after all. So he showered, shaved and climbed into bed. The next thing he knew he was being woken by his room telephone. He opened his eyes it was daylight.
He picked up the telephone. ’Good morning Mr Nikolaos, you have a visitor. Miss Gallas is waiting for you in reception.’ Morgan’s mind reacted slowly to the statement; his
Ionian Gangster Boy - Book 2 Page 3
