YANNIS (Cretan Saga Book 1) (11 page)

Yannis looked at her mother and father helplessly. ‘I was only joking. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings.’

Elena patted his hand sympathetically. ‘We know that, and I think Annita does really. Her decision came upon us rather suddenly and we’ve all teased her. She probably thought you wouldn’t.’

‘Excuse me. I’ll go an apologise to her.’ When Yannis reached the top of the stairs he could hear muffled sobbing from behind Anita’s closed door. He stopped aghast. He had never known Annita to cry, not even when she had fallen and cut her knees quite badly. Cautiously he tapped on the door. ‘Annita. May I come in?’

The sobbing stopped. He tapped again. ‘I’m coming in.’

‘Go away. Leave me alone.’

Yannis opened the door and walked over to where she had thrown herself on her mattress, her face buried in the pillow. He stroked her hair gently. ‘I didn’t mean it, Annita, when I said you wouldn’t know the difference between an arm and a leg. I was only teasing.’

Annita began to sob again. Yannis stroked her shoulders gently. ‘Come on, now. I’ve always thought you such a brave little girl, you never cried when you were hurt. Now you’re crying because I teased you.’

‘I’m not a little girl.’ Annita spoke through clenched teeth. She turned her tear-stained face towards him. ‘I’ll prove to you I’m not a little girl.’ She pulled his head downwards until their lips met, kissing him long and passionately, toppling him off balance and pressing her body tightly against his.

‘I’m not a little girl, Yannis.’ This time she spoke the words quietly, looking into his eyes. ‘I overheard Mamma and Pappa say that we are going to be married eventually. I wanted to make you proud to have me as a wife – and I’m going to miss you, Yannis.’ Her lips trembled and her eyes brimmed with tears.

Yannis pulled himself back into a sitting position and took her hand in his, noticing for the first time how strong and capable it was. ‘I’m going to miss you, too. Pappa told me before I left Elounda about our parents’ plans, but I was still thinking of you as the little girl I’d played with, not as the girl I’m going to marry.’

‘Do you want to marry me, Yannis?’

‘I think so.’

‘Suppose you meet someone else in Heraklion?’

Yannis remembered his conversation with his father. ‘You might meet someone. One of your sick people that you want to look after.’

‘Yannis don’t joke.’

‘I’m not joking. I’ve heard that people can become very fond of others who are dependent upon them. Maybe when you’ve done some training here you could come to Heraklion?’

Annita shook her head. ‘Don’t be silly, Yannis. If we said we wanted to be in Heraklion together they would certainly say no. All the time they think we are just friends with no ideas for the future we can do as we please. The moment they think we have other ideas someone will always be with us, watching what we do. Look at Maria and Babbis. The village watches them as they walk down the street. You or I were supposed to be with them if they went anywhere. I don’t want it to be like that.’

Yannis took her hands. ‘I wish now that I was staying here longer.’ He pulled his cousin towards him and kissed her very gently, revelling in the novelty of the sensations she aroused in him. ‘We should go down. Your Mamma will be wondering what’s happened to us. Come with me to find Mr Pavlakis. You can say you want to tell him your news.’

‘Don’t be long, Yannis. I want you to help me with some fishing for a couple of hours,’ called Yiorgo.

Yannis sighed. He had not expected to have to go fishing on his last evening in Aghios Nikolaos.

Once outside Yannis hesitated. ‘I expect he’s at the taverna, saying goodbye to his friends.’

Yannis was right. At the taverna Mr Pavlakis was surrounded by his acquaintances, empty bottles and glasses stood around and toasts to his future success were being drunk. Mr Pavlakis waved them in to join him.

‘You can’t go in there,’ Yannis decided. ‘Wait here. I won’t be long.’

He pushed his way forward to where his teacher was standing unsteadily with his glass raised. ‘What time does the bus go tomorrow, please?’

‘The bus?’ Mr Pavlakis looked puzzled.

‘Tomorrow we’re catching the bus to Heraklion. What time does it leave, please?’

‘Oh, tomorrow! Tomorrow I shall see Louisa again. Drink, my friends, drink to Louisa. The most beautiful girl in the world.’

A glass was thrust into Yannis’s hand and he had no choice but to drink the rough wine. ‘What time does the bus go?’ he tried again.

‘It doesn’t matter. Come and enjoy yourself.’ Mr Pavlakis splashed more wine into Yannis’s glass. ‘Drink. Drink to Louisa.’

Yannis raised his glass in salutation, then placed it on the table and slipped back through the little gathering to the door where Annita was waiting. She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

‘He’s drunk. I couldn’t get any sense out of him. Let’s go to the bus station.’ Yannis took her hand and they strolled along the almost deserted streets together. Once they reached the main part of the town they released hands and walked side by side until they arrived at an area of rough ground where the bus, which ran from Aghios Nikolaos to Heraklion, was parked when not in use. From the wooden shack, which sold sweets, cigarettes, lottery tickets and a weekly newspaper, information about the time of the bus was given and tickets could be bought.

‘Excuse me.’

The man dragged his eyes from a three-day-old newspaper.

‘Can you tell me what time the bus for Heraklion leaves tomorrow morning, please?’

‘Ten.’ He dropped his eyes again to the newspaper.

‘Thank you.’ Yannis turned to Annita. ‘I hope he’s told me correctly. Come on, we’d best get back. Your Pappa will be waiting for me.’

‘There is Pappa,’ said Annita in surprise and pointed across the road to where her father was speaking to a small boy who shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

‘He must be looking for us.’ Together they strolled across the street. ‘I’m not late, am I?’ asked Yannis.

Yiorgo shook his head. ‘No, I was looking for Andreas. I’ve seen most of his friends and they don’t know where he is. I wondered if he’d wandered over this side of town. He seems to disappear without anyone knowing where he goes. Have you seen him?’

Both Yannis and Annita shook their heads. ‘He used to do the same when we were at Plaka, he always turned up again, though.’ Yannis felt guilty that he had never enquired into his cousin’s whereabouts.

‘Shall we help you look?’ asked Annita.

‘No,’ Yiorgo sighed. ‘He’ll doubtless turn up when he’s hungry. You two go on. I’m going for a glass of wine.’

Yiorgo sat in morose silence as he toyed with his glass. He realised for the first time that he hardly knew his son. A vague feeling of concern assailed him, which his common sense told him was stupid. Andreas was a naturally quiet, self-disciplined boy, who kept his own council. He could be relied upon not to have done anything foolish. Yiorgo sighed deeply, placed a few coins on the table and left. He walked down the hill until he reached the church and there he saw Andreas standing on the steps talking to the priest. Yiorgo stopped in surprise and waited until Andreas saw him and walked over.

‘Hello, Pappa.’

‘Have you been naughty, Andreas?’

‘No, Pappa.’

‘Why did you need to see the priest?’

‘I wanted to tell him I was staying home this evening as Yannis is here, so I couldn’t come for instruction.’

Yiorgo looked at his son. ‘What instruction?’

‘The instruction Father Dhakanalis gives me.’ Andreas was being evasive.

‘Don’t you understand the services?’

‘Of course I understand, Pappa.’

‘Then why do you go for instruction?’

Andreas took a deep breath. ‘I want to be a priest.’

‘You want to…?’ Yiorgo could not believe his ears.

‘I want to be a priest,’ Andreas repeated.

Yiorgo walked a few steps in silence. Pride and sadness fought inside him. ‘You’re sure? It means a life spent bound by rigid laws, no wife, no children, continually putting the welfare of others before your own.’

‘I know, Pappa, but that’s what I want.’

‘Have you told your mother?’

‘I’ve told no one. People might laugh at me.’

‘Why should they laugh? It’s a good, honourable profession.’

Andreas shrugged. ‘Some people wouldn’t understand how I feel. To me it’s the only thing worth doing.’

Yiorgo looked at his son in disbelief. ‘You won’t make any money as a priest.’

‘That doesn’t matter. I just want to help people.’

‘If that’s how you really feel.’ Yiorgo shrugged. Who was he to insist that his son became a fisherman if he had been called to the church? As they entered the house Yiorgo shouted to his wife. ‘Elena, Andreas has some news for you.’

‘What is it?’

Andreas grinned a little sheepishly. ‘I want to be a priest, Mamma.’

‘A priest!’ She was incredulous. ‘My son a priest!’

‘If I’m clever enough; I’ll have to pass exams.’

‘You’ll pass them,’ said Elena with confidence. ‘You’re a clever boy. A good boy. I’m so proud, so pleased.’ She sank into a chair and fanned herself with her apron

Andreas winced. He hated to be called good. ‘Please don’t tell anyone, not even Annita and Yannis.’

‘Why ever not? They’ll be pleased for you.’ Elena was surprised by his request.

‘They might tell people who would whisper and laugh at me.’

‘They wouldn’t dare!’ Elena was indignant.

‘They wouldn’t understand. Please, Mamma, promise me.’

‘We must do as he asks, Elena. Suppose he changes his mind? If we’ve told everyone he has a vocation for the priesthood he would certainly be laughed at then.’

Elena was disappointed. She had immediately planned to tell her neighbours, but Andreas was still young to make such a decision.

‘I have to go,’ Yiorgo reached for his jacket. ‘Where’s Yannis? Have he and Annita come back yet?’

‘They’re upstairs. Go and call them, Andreas. Tell them Pappa’s waiting.’

Andreas mounted the stairs quietly and pushed open the bedroom door. ‘Oh!’ He stopped, blushing with embarrassment as the two sprung apart. He closed the door behind him. ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea.’

Yannis squeezed Annita gently to him. ‘We had no idea either, until today.’

‘Are Mamma and Pappa pleased?’

‘We haven’t told them yet. You won’t say anything; will you, Andreas? You know how it is once parents think a couple are courting. They never have a minute alone.’ Annita turned beseeching eyes upon her brother.

‘I shan’t tell them. Yannis goes away tomorrow, so they couldn’t chaperone you anyway.’

‘Mamma would want to tell everyone,’ persisted Annita.

‘I know!’ Andreas’s comment was heartfelt. ‘Actually I came up to tell Yannis that Pappa is ready to leave. I’ll tell him you’re just getting a pullover.’ He slipped out of the room, leaving them for a last few moments alone.

The tide was exactly as Yiorgo had known it would be when he slipped the mooring rope and headed towards the open sea.

‘Which way?’ asked Yannis.

‘Lobster pots,’ Yiorgo answered briefly. ‘I laid them on my way to meet you.’

Yannis nodded. At least this work would be pleasant. He hated hauling in the net, full of wet, slippery fish, which had to be sorted and made you smell like a fish yourself. Pulling in pots, removing lobsters or crabs and tying their claws was clean, easy work by comparison. Yiorgo steered near to a rocky headland and the two boys leant over the side, attaching a rope to the loop on each pot.

‘How many?’ called Andreas.

‘Fifteen,’ answered Yiorgo, intent on avoiding a sharp reef that he knew lay just beneath the surface.

The roping of the pots completed Yiorgo relinquished the oars to the boys, who made a half circle turn out towards the open sea, then rowed back slowly, giving Yiorgo time to hoist each pot aboard.

Once back on the quay they removed the lobsters from the pots, tying their claws and placing them in a galvanised bath with some old netting at the bottom. It made Yannis feel unaccountably sad to see them, their antennae searching for a way of escape, whilst their legs became more deeply entangled in the net.

‘I would hate to be a lobster,’ he remarked as he began to check the pots for damage. ‘One minute you’re crawling along the sand looking for lunch and the next you’re whisked up through the water, trussed up and sent off to be cooked for lunch. It’s a good job they don’t know what’s in store for them.’

‘Do we?’ asked Andreas.

Yannis stared at him thoughtfully. ‘I suppose not, but at least we know we’re not going to be captured and cooked. Hurry up. There are only a couple of pots to mend. I’m hungry.’

The pots repaired they hurried back up the hill and were greeted by the savoury smell of lobster. ‘I don’t believe it. It isn’t a name day.’

Andreas said nothing. He knew his father had captured two lobsters the day before and set them aside for Yannis’s last meal with them. Taking Yannis out fishing had been an excuse to get him from the house whilst they were being finally prepared.

‘I am honoured,’ mumbled Yannis with embarrassment. ‘You always said you only had them on special occasions like Elena’s birthday.’

‘This is a special occasion.’ Yiorgo raised his glass. ‘This is to wish you success and good fortune, Yannis. We will miss you. Just remember you always have a home here.’

Beneath the table Yannis squeezed Annita’s hand. He rose with his glass held aloft. ‘I should just like to say thank you. Without you giving me a home none of this would have been possible. I promise I’ll work very hard and hope you’ll never regret having had me for this last year.’

Throughout the evening neighbours and school friends would knock the door, staying for a glass of wine to toast Yannis on his way. Yannis’s head was beginning to spin and the buzzing in his ears was disconcerting. He sidled over to his uncle.

‘Can I go to bed? I know everyone means well, but I’ve had more than enough to drink, and I’m tired.’

Yiorgo grinned. ‘Wait until you come back from Heraklion. You’ll be used to drinking half the night by then and think nothing of it. Off you go. I’ll tell people you have to rise early.’