YANNIS (Cretan Saga Book 1) (58 page)

‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’

‘Then you should. There is nothing like personal example.’

‘That’s true.’

‘Then shall we arrange a little trip together? I’d planned another visit in a few weeks. Provided I can give my parish enough notice the date is immaterial to me.’

Yiorgo felt himself trapped. He took a little black notebook from his pocket and consulted it. ‘I have many pressing engagements. Maybe five weeks from today?’

Father Minos consulted his own little book. ‘Excellent. Shall we enter it as a definite arrangement? I’ll contact you before then to see if you have made any progress regarding the money taken to the hospital. Maybe you could take them some very good news if you were able to locate any funds due to them.’

The day of the proposed visit dawned all too soon for Yiorgo Pavlakis. The weather was overcast, threatening rain and he hoped it would be too rough for them to visit the island. He sighed. No doubt the priest would insist upon staying down there until the weather changed. As he kissed Louisa goodbye he felt a pang of conscience as he lied to her.

‘I hope to be back tomorrow. I have to visit Rethymnon with some of my colleagues. Don’t worry if we’re delayed. Rest assured I’ll hurry back to you as soon as possible.’

‘I’m sure you will.’ Louisa lifted her face to receive his embrace dutifully. Two whole days with him away could make quite a difference to the savings she was gradually accumulating. There was sure to be a ship in and those who had been denied shore leave would queue up for her and pay double her usual asking price.

Travelling down to Aghios Nikolaos with the priest brought back memories to the schoolteacher. He wondered if he should visit his old landlady and decided not to bother. He had invited her to his wedding as he had promised, but since then he had ignored her.

The weather worsened during the bus journey and Yiorgo thought it most unlikely they would be able to visit the island that day and return to Heraklion the next. By the time they drew into the terminus it was raining and gusty winds were driving the occupants of the town under cover. Yiorgo Pavlakis drew his overcoat closer to him and shivered.

‘We might as well return on the next bus,’ he complained. ‘It’s doubtful if we’ll get over there today, or even tomorrow by the look of this.’

‘We’ll see. You know how fickle the weather is here. It could clear in an hour.’

Yiorgo followed the priest down the familiar streets to the quay. To Father Minos’s delight and Yiorgo’s dismay, Manolis’s boat was in its usual mooring. The priest looked around for the young man who was nowhere in sight. Father Minos moved from boat to boat, Yiorgo following miserably in his wake, until he ran the boatman to earth playing cards in a cabin. He gave them a delighted grin.

‘You want me to take you over? Give me five minutes to finish winning this hand and I’ll be ready.’

Yiorgo Pavlakis, standing in a position where he could see Manolis’s hand of cards, thought his chances of winning slender indeed. It was with good grace the fisherman pushed his money across the box that was serving as a table and accompanied the two men back to his boat.

The journey was rough, although they went through the shallow canal, keeping in the shelter of the land for as long as possible before sailing across the bay to the island. Yiorgo looked with interest as they approached, trying to ignore the knot of fear that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

‘I only wish to talk to Yannis,’ he told Father Minos. ‘I’m not interested in a tour of the sick.’

Father Minos nodded. He was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake in bringing the school master politician to the island in the first place. The quay was deserted and Father Minos led the way through the arch. Once on the pathway he stood and called loudly until Ritsa appeared.

‘I’ve brought someone to see Yannis,’ Father Minos explained. ‘Do you know where he is?’

‘Probably in his house if he has any sense. You know where it is.’

Father Minos nodded and led the way to the tiny house that Yannis still shared with Spiro and Kyriakos. He knocked on the door and Yannis appeared, a look of disbelief on his face when he saw his former teacher and friend. Having been assured that Yiorgo was only visiting, he apologised for the spartan interior and offered Yiorgo a place on his mattress, whilst Father Minos went to visit the islanders.

‘This is a pleasure. I never thought to see you again. How are you – and Louisa?’

‘We’re fine.’ Yiorgo sat down gingerly on the mattress. ‘How are you?’

Yannis shrugged. ‘As well as can be expected.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘How could I? I could hardly believe it myself. I didn’t want anyone to know. I was so ashamed and frightened. Why have you come?’

‘I’ve been talking to the priest and he suggested I might be able to help you. I carry some weight in political circles now.’

‘Me personally, or all of us?’

‘All of you.’

Yannis smiled. ‘I’m glad of that. I couldn’t accept help just for myself. We’re like a family here, most of us. We try to share what we have and help each other.’

For a few minutes the two men looked at each other in silence. Yiorgo noticing the blemishes and nodules that stretched from ear to brow of his ex-pupil where the disease was spreading unchecked, Yannis saw little difference in Yiorgo, a few grey hairs, but apart from those he was unchanged.

‘What kind of help do you have in mind?’

‘I need you to tell me that.’

Yannis turned to Spiro. ‘Any ideas?’

Spiro joined them on the bed. ‘I think we need a few more details. Do you have any money at your disposal? Do you have any sway with the medical authorities?’

Yiorgo shook his head. ‘The answer is no to both those questions. As a politician I can approach the medical authorities and suggest, possibly even pressurize a little, but I’ve no power at all. What I have in mind is a project of some sort that would find favour with the ordinary people so I could squeeze some money from the treasury.’

‘What kind of figure are we talking about?’

‘I can’t tell you that. It would depend upon what you wanted. It would be no good asking for too much, I’d be turned down out of hand.’

‘Let’s list the things we most need; then you can take your pick. Visits from our family and friends would be first on my list.’

Yiorgo shook his head. ‘I can’t see me being able to do anything about that for you. What about those who come from Greece? Who would pay for them to visit a relative or friend? Besides, you said you wanted something everyone could share or benefit from. Some people might not have any relatives.’

‘I haven’t.’ Kyriakos spoke for the first time.

‘What about books?’ suggested Yiorgo.

‘Some people can’t read,’ Yannis pointed out.

‘New clothes?’

‘That could be difficult. We’re all different sizes. Some of us need trousers, others pullovers. If we asked for clothes they’d probably send dresses for the women and nothing for the men.’

‘We could ask a boatman to buy them for us from the mainland,’ Spiro pursued the idea.

‘What are we going to buy them with?’ asked Yannis. ‘You know what it’s like to get money back from the government. They would have to wait months before they were sent any money, by that time we’d probably need something else.’

‘That’s it.’ Yiorgo slapped his knee and pushed back the lock of hair from his eyes. ‘Money. I ask the government to give you a sum of money.’

Yannis and Spiro looked at him puzzled, whilst Kyriakos muttered something unintelligible beneath his breath.

‘They’d never agree. There are about four hundred of us here. What kind of sum are you thinking of? Even five drachmas each would come to an enormous amount – and five drachmas wouldn’t go very far.’

Yiorgo shook his head. ‘I’m not talking about that kind of money. I’m talking about a regular amount, every month, that you could spend or save as you wanted.’

The three men sat and considered the idea. ‘It sounds good,’ Yannis agreed cautiously. ‘How would you go about it?’

‘I haven’t worked out the details. I’ll need time to think and plan.’

‘Are we sure everyone would want it?’ asked Spiro.

‘Why not? It’s the best idea we’ve come up with and it would benefit everyone.’

‘I think we ought to give it more thought, maybe ask some of the others.’

‘No, it’s Yiorgo’s idea and I think we should leave it at that. If we start to ask everyone we’ll never get anywhere. I don’t think we should even tell them until we hear that it’s definite. It would only raise their hopes and cause unrest. Think what it could mean to us. We’d be able to ask the boatmen to buy us what we wanted, or we could save it, or even gamble, but it would be ours to do just as we pleased with.’

‘Yannis is right,’ agreed Kyriakos. ‘I hate beans. Think how many times I have to eat them because nothing different is sent. I’d be able to buy courgettes.’

‘I shall need some facts. How many of you are living here, your names and ages, probably which hospital you came from originally.’

‘That should be easy enough. Send a message to my cousin when you want them, he’ll pass it on to Manolis who’ll bring it to us. We could make a start and have the information ready for you.’

Yiorgo nodded. ‘I can’t promise anything, you realise that, but I’ll do my best. Has the weather improved at all? We should be getting back.’

‘I doubt if either of them will be ready yet. Father Minos always sees everyone, if only for a moment, and Manolis would stay for ever.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, Father Minos feels it’s his duty and having made the journey he wants to feel it was worth his while I suppose.’

‘No, I mean, the boatman. Why should he want to stay?’

‘He’s somewhat keen on one of the women,’ smiled Yannis.

‘A leper woman!’ exclaimed Yiorgo in horror.

‘Why not?’

‘Well, it’s not right.’

‘Why shouldn’t it be? If she had anything else wrong with her you’d admire him for ignoring her disability. Tell me about Heraklion,’ said Yannis, more from a desire to change the subject than from any true interest. Heraklion seemed so far removed from him that it could have been the other side of the world.

Yiorgo launched upon a description of his latest political ideas for the betterment of the community until Yannis regretted ever asking his original question.

‘How’s Louisa?’ he managed to ask at last.

‘Louisa? Oh, Louisa’s fine. She is so beautiful. Each time I look at her…’

‘And your baby?’

‘She is as beautiful as her mother. The same nose and eyes. I can’t wait for her to get a little older. I plan to teach her to read and write. I’m sure by the time she is old enough they will be accepting girls at the University. She will not only be beautiful, but well educated also.’

‘How old is she now?’

‘Old? Oh, five, I think. I’m not very good on things like that. Her mother reminds me when it’s her birthday. Now, as I was saying…’

‘Please, Yiorgo, don’t talk to me about politics. I never did follow them and we’re so cut off here that they’re no longer relevant. Talk to me about Knossos, or the museum or school. Things I can relate to.’

Yiorgo looked at him puzzled. ‘I haven’t had time to go to Knossos or the museum. There’s nothing of interest to talk about regarding the school.’

‘What about the friends I had when I was there? Do you ever see any of them? What are they doing now?’

‘I’ve no idea.’ Yiorgo was unhelpful and beginning to feel uncomfortable without his cushion of politics upon which he depended for conversation. ‘Do you think we should find the priest? Maybe he’s ready.’

Yannis smiled. ‘I’m sorry, Yiorgo. It’s just that life over here is so – so –’ he searched for the right word, ‘isolated, self-contained. We’re far more concerned about a new eruption on our skin than we would be about the fall of a government. One affects us, the other doesn’t.’

‘No, no, it’s my fault. I tend to become so absorbed and I forget that not everyone else has the same interest.’ Yiorgo’s eyes roved around the small building. ‘Do you all live in houses like this?’

‘No. Most of us live in the old Turkish or Venetian ones that we’ve patched up. I just happen to have this one.’

‘Yannis built it himself.’ Spiro grinned with pride in his friend.

‘You built it? Whatever for if there are others?’

‘It was to prove a point.’ Yannis was embarrassed and frowned at Spiro who ignored him.

‘Yannis built it to prove that we were a lazy, idle lot of ruffians and also that it could be done. He’s far too modest. He’s gone so far as to say that he will live here until the last man and woman has a house of their own.’

‘I know which one I want eventually. It has great potential. I’ll show it to you as we look for Father Minos.’

Yiorgo rose. That was all he had wanted to hear for over an hour. ‘I’d like that.’

‘This way,’ Yannis directed.

‘The priest is up there,’ Yiorgo indicated the dark robed figure.

‘I was going to show you the house I’m interested in.’

Yiorgo stopped, but did not follow Yannis. ‘Which one?’

‘That one,’ Yannis pointed.

‘Very nice,’ murmured Yiorgo. ‘Very nice, I’m sure.’

Yannis felt deflated. From where Yiorgo stood he could hardly see the house. Silently he led the way to where the priest was standing, surrounded by people, despite the rain and the cold wind that blew gustily. Yiorgo pulled the collar of his overcoat closer to his neck.

‘Why don’t they put their coats on?’ he asked. ‘They’ll catch their deaths if they stay out in this for long.’

‘They don’t have coats.’ Yannis looked Yiorgo straight in the eyes as he made his statement. ‘And some of them would probably be quite pleased to go to their deaths.’

Yiorgo shifted uncomfortably. ‘We should go,’ he muttered. ‘It could be too rough to make the return journey soon.’

Yannis nodded. At least Yiorgo was right about that. ‘Stay here. I’ll find Manolis.’

Manolis was not difficult to find. He was with Flora, talking to her urgently whilst she bit at her lip in indecision. Yannis cleared his throat.