The Gypsy's Dream (22 page)

‘
Panayia
!’ she crosses herself, but as quickly as she is animated she slumps again. ‘Who would buy? I can make all the soap and candles in the world, but if no one buys …’

They all stare at the now-still screen. Eventually Abby wanders back outside. She shields her eyes against the sun and wonders how the cats manage in their furry coats.

‘
Yia sou, Yia
?’ a woman’s voice shouts from the lane. Abby cannot see her for Juliet’s car but she recognises Vasso’s voice.

‘
Yia sou
Vasso,’ Abby says, using the only Greek vocabulary she feels confident with.

‘
Abby?
Yiati eisai edo
?’ Abby hears the intonation and understands she is asking a question but she is lost as to the meaning.

‘
Juliet, Vasso’s here,’ Abby calls indoors.

‘
Vasso? Really? Oh, I am coming.’ The sound of a wooden chair scraping across rough tiles is followed by Juliet’s light step.

‘
Vasso. Ti kanis
?’ Juliet says. Abby looks at Stella who has also come out.

‘
She asks how she is,’ Stella translates over the top of Vasso’s talk. ‘Ah, it is nothing, some letters have arrived for Juliet, and Cosmas, the postman, has left them at the kiosk.’

‘
Yia sou
Stella,’ Vasso greets Stella. ‘
Ti ginetai edo
?’

‘
I love that about the Greeks,’ Juliet says to Abby. ‘They want to be involved, know what is going on. In England I always feel it would be impolite to ask why someone is somewhere or what’s going on.’

Stella speaks for some time to Vass
o in Greek.

‘
Is she telling her about Stavros?’ Abby asks Juliet

‘
She hasn’t yet. She is talking about her dad’s place and the idea of getting it running.’

‘
Tea,
Tsai
?’ Juliet invites. Both Abby and Stella shake their head.

‘
Nero,’ Vasso requests, and Juliet goes inside to get her some water as Vasso talks to Stella some more. Abby hears the name ‘Stavros’ and watches a range of fleeting expressions pass over Vasso’s face as she is updated. Vasso mutters some words that sound harsh.

‘
She’s telling him the rumours about Stavros when they were first married.’ Juliet reappears with a glass of water for Vasso who is now looking at Abby. ‘Now she is asking your age.’

The conversation continues. It grows increasingly serious in tone and Vasso begins to raise her
voice. Stella calms her down and then suddenly they both laugh.

Juliet doesn
’t join in or translate. Abby watches the two friends talking. Juliet leans her head back, her face in the sun, apparently in her own world until she exclaims, ‘Oh my goodness! Vasso’s right. There are more Greeks living abroad than in Greece.’

‘
So?’ Abby asks.

‘
Well, as Stella said, you can make candles and soap till it comes out of your ears but if you have no one to buy them what’s the point? They say tourism’s down over thirty per cent. Judging by what you see in the town, I would say more.

‘
But Greeks abroad are very nostalgic, and Australia is not in recession. There are more Greeks there than anywhere. Stella, do you remember my friend who helped me clear the garden?’

‘
The illegal Pakistani?’ Stella almost sneers.

‘
Yes, Aaman.’ Juliet gives Stella quite a hard look and sits up straight. ‘He went back to Pakistan and got a job there writing web sites. Well, he has just emailed me to say he has got a job offer in England. Didn’t I tell you?’ She turns to Abby, who shrugs. ‘Guess where? Bradford! A business somewhere up behind the university.’

‘
Am I meant to understand something?’ Stella asks.

‘
Vasso’s right. More Greeks outside Greece than in, all missing home,’ Juliet states.

‘
Sell to them,’ Abby concludes, ‘through a web site. I can do accounts and manage the site. I could do it from here or England.’ She jiggles in her seat.

‘
Ti, ti lei?
’ Vasso wants to know what Abby is saying. Stella translates. Vasso replies with a grin and then laughs.

‘
What?’ Abby asks, smiling at Vasso’s laughter.

‘
She has just joined our merry team by offering her olives for the oil for the soap, and apparently she has bees, which I didn’t know.’ Juliet listens to Vasso for a moment. ‘Ah, she says her son had the bees but when he went to Athens some cousin offered to look after them. Huh, in other words they are his now, but Vasso says she has no shame in asking for them back, he has only had them a month.’

‘
Does she know how to look after bees? Besides, wouldn’t we need, like, loads of them for enough wax?’

‘
No idea, but we can find all this out.’ Juliet sounds calm, assured.

Vasso addresses Abby. Abby looks to Stella and Juliet, who both start to translate at the same time, Stella allowing Juliet to fin
ish.

‘She says Stella says you are good at adding numbers.’ Vasso speaks further and Juliet translates. ‘She says if this is true you have a job every year doing her books if you want, she cannot get the hang of it.’ Juliet smiles at Vasso.

‘
And mine?’ Stella adds. ‘We will pay you, but not as much as the numbers man …’

‘
Accountant,’ Juliet interjects.

‘
… in town charges,’ Stella concludes, ignoring the correction.

‘
Oh, wow, yeah, that would be so cool. As well as the candle soap thing, you mean, not instead?’ Abby says. Stella nods. ‘Would I need to speak Greek to anybody to do the accounts?’

‘
I don’t see why,’ Juliet says.

Abby smiles as she looks from one face to another.

‘You wanted to be like the women in the films, Stella, and run an international business. Bet you never thought it would be in candles and soap.’ Abby cannot hide her joy. ‘This is like your dream.’

Juliet leans in to Vasso and translates.

‘And like your dream,’ Stella replies. ‘If we do this and make money you can go to university.’

Juliet mutters to Vasso. Vasso mutters back.

‘Vasso says it is like her dream. Someone else to do the books, the olives and the bees, and make enough money to get some help in the kiosk.’

‘
And your dream, Juliet?’ Stella asks. ‘Is it your dream?’

Juliet
laughs a gentle, pealing sound. She looks across the mountains, she looks around her garden, she looks at the cats and she looks at her friends.

‘
I am living my dream already.’ She smiles, the sun highlighting the red flecks in her blonde hair.

‘
The thing is, if it was this easy people would have done it already, wouldn’t they?’ Abby asks Juliet. Vasso has returned to the kiosk so as not to lose too many customers. Stella sits with her legs tucked under her on the sofa outside, her head leaning back, soaking up the sun, eyes closed. Abby is just inside the doors, in the shade enough to be able to see the screen of the laptop. Juliet is cutting bread to go with the Greek salad she has made. Through the small window in the back door a block of sun spotlights her golden hair. On the dresser behind her is a photograph of two young men standing either side of a pretty girl. One boy has his arm jealously around the girl’s shoulder, the other boy has a wider smile, a carefree look. They both look like Juliet. Next to that is another photograph of an Indian-looking man with a kind face and a petite woman holding a new-born baby, the silver frame bright in the shaft of sunlight.

‘
That was a game I used to play when I still lived in England.’ Juliet arranges the bread on a plate. ‘When I used to go to the pub with Mick - ex-husband,’ she doesn’t smile, ‘he would be droning on about nothing new so I would listen to all the plans of all the people around me. Pubs seemed to be the place to plan back then.’ She tears kitchen roll off in sheets and folds the rectangles diagonally and places one on each of the three plates she has laid out. ‘Everyone seemed to have a five-year plan, or a ten-year plan, and they would brag: “Oh, me and Stacey are out of here in five. Gonna live in Thailand. Stacey’s been training in Thai massage. We gonna open a salon on the beach. Cheap out there, we will live like kings” or, “Oh we will visit you, me and Kaitlyn are going to open a kennels out in the country. Just need to pay off a bit more mortgage, another five years should do it and then we will sell up and move to the country. Our time will be our own.”’

Abby laughs at Juliet
’s impersonations.

‘
No recession then. Everyone dreamed. But …’ Juliet bends her knees to reach into the back of a cupboard. ‘All these dreamers never did anything. I went to the same pub five years later, and there I was doing the same thing, listening to Mick whining, and there were all these planners, still planning. The five-year plans were still five-year plans, not four or three or two, no countdown. Stella, you want to eat?’ Juliet calls as she puts the oil and vinegar on the table and looks over all she has laid out to see if anything is missing.

‘
Yes, but you did do something, you moved here,’ Abby says, standing as Stella languidly walks in.

‘
And that’s what we have in common.’ Juliet sits. Abby has hold of the back of her own chair but is looking at Juliet, waiting for more. ‘You, you came here too, you didn’t just talk about earning a living in the summers to pay for Uni, you actually booked a ticket and got on a plane and …’

‘
And made the mistake of getting on the wrong boat to end up in the wrong place.’

‘
No such thing as accidents.’ Juliet offers Stella the salad bowl.

‘Course there are. If a man walks out of a building and a piano falls on his head, is that not an accident?’ Abby laughs. Stella passes her the bowl.

‘
No, I mean the ones we do to ourselves. Like …’ She looks across the sitting room. ‘OK, like Mick. I caught him kissing someone. Was it an accident I caught him? No, he wanted out of the marriage. We had a party. People started leaving. I felt unwell so I went to bed and let Mick finish up, see the last people out. Later I woke up, no Mick next to me, the house was quiet, but too quiet. So I got up. I was silent. I could have fumbled my slippers on and stomped down the hall, that would have been usual, but I didn’t, I glided to the landing, I hovered down the stairs and I went through the kitchen to the sitting room so I didn’t have to open any creaking doors and there he was.’

‘
Harsh,’ Abby says quietly.

‘
Couldn’t give a monkey’s.’ Juliet takes the salad bowl from Stella who is saying, ‘What are these monkeys?’ to herself. ‘But the point is, he could have taken her outside, to her house, even into the dining room which you had to open a door to get into, which would have given him warning. I could have been noisy, coughed, opened a door. If either of us wanted for things to remain the same we could have made that happen. We didn’t, we chose that he would be caught, that I would “accidentally” find him, and then things had to change. All subconsciously, of course.’

‘
So, taking the wrong boat by accident and coming here?’ Abby takes a piece of bread, warm from the oven.

‘
You didn’t want the bar job, perhaps?’ Juliet says. Stella nods.

‘
Why are you nodding?" Abby laughs at Stella, whose mouth is full of bread.

‘
You, in a bar.’ She laughs, spraying breadcrumbs.

‘
What’s funny?’ Abby’s face flits between smiling and frowning.

‘
I think she is casting a comment on your character.’

‘
What is this “casting a comment”?’ Stella asks, swallowing her bread.

‘
Cast, casting, throw out a line, like in fishing,’ Juliet clarifies.

‘
I am not fishing, I want nothing back.’ Stella stabs a piece of cucumber.

‘
What about my character?’ Abby puts down her fork.

‘
I don’t understand this fishing, but I think that you are a nice girl and like quiet and peace and reading,’ Stella says and pops the cucumber into her mouth.

‘
I like fun, too.’ Abby’s tone is indignant.

‘
Would you, though, night after night, drunk English tourist and techno music on full blast so your ears hurt in the morning?’ Juliet asks.

Abby shrugs and picks up her fork.
‘But I didn’t know that there was a job here, so that was an accident.’

‘
There was no job.’ Stella dips her bread into the tomato juice of her salad.

‘
What?’ Abby asks, putting her fork down again.

‘
Stavros said he wanted a foreign girl to work but I think he wanted me to catch him kissing like Mick.’ Stella puts her own fork down and sighs. ‘But I said no. Maybe I was not ready to catch him kissing. Then you are here, and Vasso had heard Stavros talk.’ There is no joy in Stella’s voice and Juliet gives her a sad smile. ‘Vasso sent you over and I try to make you leave.’

‘
Oh my God, yes, you were hot and cold. I thought you were just a bit nuts.’

‘
Nuts? Like pistachio?’ Stella asks.

‘
No, like mad,’ Abby says.

‘
Mad, nuts, ok. Crazy language.’ Stella mulls and presses a large lettuce leaf into her mouth.

‘
So how come you let me stay?’ Abby asks.

‘
I like you, and I didn’t think you would be kissing him.’

‘
Argg.’ Abby shakes her head at the memory.

‘
I am sorry, Abby, I should have told you to leave at the beginning.’ Stella puts her hand on Abby’s arm.

‘
You tried.’ Abby laughs.

‘
But not enough,’ Juliet interjects, ‘and now you caught Stavros out and you and Abby will start a business together which fulfils both your dreams, which you have to do now to prove that my theory is right and there are no such things as accidents.’ Juliet raise her water glass. ‘
Yia mas
.’

‘
Yia mas
,’ Stella replies.

‘
Cheers,’ Abby says.

They eat in silence for a while.

‘So to make the business happen, if it was that easy why doesn’t everyone do it?’ Stella asks.

Juliet and Abby laugh.

‘I just asked that when you were outside,’ Abby says. ‘Juliet pointed out that if you just get on and do things they change from plans to being real. That’s what most people don’t do.’

‘
Like Onassis,’ Juliet says. ‘Suppose Onassis was the born the same year as Stavros and they discussed shipping plans way back when they were both young. What would have happened?’

Stella laughs at the thought.
‘Stavros would have drunk another ouzo and fallen asleep dreaming and Onassis would have gone out and bought his first rowing boat.’

‘
Exactly!’ Juliet puts her fork down and leans back in her chair, which she edges out of the sun that streams through the back door.

‘
Ok, so we do it.’ Stella drops her chin onto her chest. ‘But what of Stavros and my
ouzeri
?’

‘
What about my passport?’ Abby ask.

‘
What about your passport?’ Juliet says.

‘
Stavros has it,’ Stella replies.

‘
He said he needed it, I presumed for something official so I could work for him. I haven’t seen it since.’ Abby pushes her plate away from her and looks away from the table, swallowing with difficulty.

‘
I told you, it will either be in his back pocket, in the glove cupboard in the car or in the drawer under the sink at home.’

‘
Right.’ Juliet stands. Stella’s mouth drops open. Abby looks up, her eyes wet and frightened. ‘For goodness’ sake, there are three of us.’ Juliet states ‘We will start at your home, Stella. If it is not there we will check the car and only as a last resort will we confront him. OK?’ Stella looks at Abby.

‘
We’ll go, Juliet. Abby can stay here.’ Abby visibly relaxes. A cat jumps on her knee.

‘
I could clear the table and wash up,’ she suggests.

Juliet slips on her flip flops.
‘Come on, Stella.’ She marches towards the gate. Stella hurries after her. They turn to close the metal gate, which neither latches nor locks but gives a vague sense of security, when Abby comes running towards them.

‘
Wait, I’m coming.’ She squeezes through the opening and they leave the gate ajar. Juliet winks at her and smiles.

‘
Good for you, Abby. Don’t be scared …’

‘
… of the bars-tard.’ Stella finishes the sentence. Abby giggles and they walk in silence.

As they approach the square Stella sees, from a distance, Mitsos shuffling in the direction of her takeaway. She gasps. Juliet turns to her.

‘You ok?’ She follows Stella’s gaze and sees the man with the cane and the slight stoop. ‘Is that Mitsos? I am glad to see him up and about. You know he came to see me the other day, to get something translated. Nice man, old fashioned.’ Stella does not answer. Juliet looks back to Stella’s face. The focus of her eyes betrays the content of her heart. ‘You are kidding me,’ Juliet states as she reads Stella’s features. Stella breaks her stare.

‘
Kidding, like kid, like goat, or like child?’ Stella is not focusing on Juliet. She is looking at the empty square where Mitsos was.

‘
Kidding, teasing, joking.’ Juliet is still searching Stella’s face. ‘But you aren’t, are you?’

‘
He is very kind to her,’ Abby interjects. Stella glares at Abby. ‘Well, he is.’ Abby stands her ground.

‘
Well I …’ Juliet begins. ‘He seems a very nice man indeed,’ she concludes, and after a small hesitation adds, ‘and you deserve a nice man.’

They agree to nip up a side street that takes them on the smallest of detours to avoid the front of the kafenio which abuts the tiny cheese factory. At the back the
re are two small windows.

‘
That is the window of my grandma’s room,’ Stella says as they pass. She lifts her head a little higher and her back becomes a little straighter. ‘My gypsy blood,’ she says in a quiet but strong voice. ‘We have good music and do lots of recycling,’ she states.

The detour turns back to the square. They hurry past the rubble of the shop on the corner, hoping that Stavros is not sitting in his thronal position in the window surrounded by the farming men. None of them looks back to che
ck until they are hidden by the corner wall of Marina’s house. Juliet is the bravest and the first to look.

‘
No,’ she says in a flat tone, ‘He’s not there,’ and they hurry on to turn down Stella’s lane, past Vasso’s house. Stella takes Abby’s hand to reassure her. She lets go when she sees Stavros’ battered car is not there, although as he sometimes leaves it outside the
ouzeri
its absence is no guarantee that he is not at the house. She stops walking, Abby just behind her.

Juliet puts a hand up to shield h
er eyes from the sun as she looks at them. ‘He is not going to do anything if we are all here together. If he is in there we will just walk out again, ok? No confrontation. Just turn and walk away. We will get the passport some other time. Agreed?’

Stella
and Abby nod. Stella takes Abby’s hand again and pats it with her other hand before they walk on. Stella only reaches Abby’s shoulder.