YANNIS (Cretan Saga Book 1) (62 page)

Dimitris looked at Yiorgo. ‘I’ll not apologise. What I said was the truth.’ He turned on his heel and walked towards the door. ‘Please accept my resignation.’

Spiro greeted Doctor Stavros at the door of the hospital with a smile of pride. ‘It’s not bad, is it? I’ve persuaded some of the women to come up on a regular basis and we have Roula. She used to be a nurse. She’s marvellous, she seems to know when a patient needs attention before they know themselves.’

Doctor Stavros looked at Spiro carefully. ‘I think it would be a good idea if you worked out a system so that each of you had a free day once a week.’

Spiro shook his head. ‘That’s not possible. We’re only just managing.’

‘Then you’ll have to find some more to help you. Impress upon them the necessity of helping here. I’m insisting that you all have a day off once a week. You’ll be ill otherwise. Let me see your charges and how they’re faring.’

Spiro led the way into the ward. The mattresses were laid a few feet apart, the patients each covered with a blanket, another by their side, which could be rolled and placed under their head or on top for extra warmth. The floor was clean, the patients clean, their bandages freshly attended to and there was only a slight smell of decaying flesh and excrement to offend his nostrils. At the far end sat Spiro’s helpers, preparing vegetables for the mid-day meal, chatting and laughing together, evidently quite at ease and happy to be there. At each mattress the doctor stopped and examined the occupant. Finally he went and sat with the group on the floor.

‘I’d like to congratulate you all. You’re doing a fine job here. I was talking to Spiro earlier and we’ve agreed that you’ll have one free day each a week. Spiro is also to have a day off.’ He looked at Spiro, daring him to contradict. ‘I’d like to see you all a bit more comfortable. I’ll try and get a table and some chairs sent over, some cushions, so you can prop your patients up more easily when you feed them, and I want to know how many more you can cope with.’

The women looked at each other doubtfully, until Roula spoke firmly. ‘We can’t. I don’t even see how we can have a day off unless there are more of us helping.’

Doctor Stavros sighed. ‘Then one of you must spare the time to persuade others to join you. With the care these poor sufferers are getting they could live for a considerable time, but that won’t save others from needing your attention. Some of them may have to come in permanently, others just for a short while when they have a relapse. It isn’t just to make life easier for the few who look after the sick outside; it’s to boost their confidence when they’re ill. Knowing there are people to look after them will help them to recover more quickly. Now, I must be off. When I come next week I’ll expect to see a list of days off and a few more recruits.’

The remainder of the morning and afternoon passed all too quickly for the doctor and he had still not seen Flora. Finally he ran her to earth down by the tunnel and greeted her with a smile. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Flora.’

‘Why?’

‘I just wanted to have a look at your arm. I like to admire my handiwork from time to time.’

Dutifully Flora extended her stump and the doctor examined it. The skin was healthy wherever he looked. ‘Don’t watch,’ he ordered as he took the pin he always carried from his lapel and began to touch her gently with it. Each time she gave a little start of pain. Beaming, Doctor Stavros replaced the pin and took her hand. ‘Have you noticed any signs anywhere else on your body? Anywhere at all?’

Flora shook her head. Her eyes were frightened and her whole attitude told the doctor she would run from him at any moment. ‘Sit down and let me look at your feet.’

Flora obeyed, still watching the doctor warily. Finally he straightened up. ‘I’m very pleased with you, Flora. I’ll give you a complete examination the next time I’m over, maybe take some tests as well.’

Flora sat where she was, a solitary tear trickling down her cheek.

‘There, there, my dear.’ He patted her shoulder. ‘You mustn’t think the worst each time I ask to look at your arm.’

Flora shook her head, unable to speak, and with a last pat to her head he lifted his bag and made his way down to the quay. It was by the tunnel that Phaedra found her some time later when she went for water from the drinking fountain.

‘What’s the matter, Flora? Manolis asked me where you were. He wanted to talk to you.’

‘I don’t want to talk to him.’

‘Why not? He’s been so good to us all.’

Flora did not answer and Phaedra tried again. ‘He seemed very miserable and worried about you.’

‘He doesn’t have to worry. The doctor says I’m all right.’

‘That’s good news.’

‘It makes no difference. I’m still a leper.’

‘Manolis doesn’t take any notice of our illness.’

‘He’s got to. Talk to him, Phaedra, explain to him that we’re contagious.’

Phaedra looked at her in surprise. ‘He knows we are. What’s wrong, Flora? You two were good friends.’

‘Manolis wants to marry me.’ Flora’s voice was no more than a whisper.

‘Oh, Flora!’ Phaedra’s heart went out to the young girl. ‘Do you love him?’

‘Of course I do. I know it couldn’t be a proper marriage, but I want to. That’s why I’m hiding away from him. We mustn’t. He’s clean. He’s not a filthy leper like me. I want him to stay clean. What would people say back on the mainland? He’d be an outcast like we are, and worse. They’d drive him away, then I’d never see him again.’

‘Have you told Manolis how you feel?’

‘I’ve tried, but he won’t listen. It’s better if he just forgets me. Tell him that for me, Phaedra. Tell him to forget and find some nice girl on the mainland who can be a proper wife to him and give him healthy children.’ She turned her tear-streaked face to Phaedra. ‘Promise me, Phaedra.’

Father Minos stood on the quay waiting for Manolis to appear for his daily journey to the island. It was going to be hot, already he could feel the warmth of the ground penetrating his sandals, inviting him to dabble his feet into the cool water. He smiled. What would people think if he gave way to the urge? A priest, holding up his robes, paddling in the sea! Before he had time to take his fantasy further Manolis appeared, his face lighting up in a grin as he saw the priest waiting for him.

‘This is a surprise. You’ve got a mountain of stuff with you. Good thing I’m not too loaded. Usual price for the round trip?’ He began to heave the sacks aboard the boat.

‘Half price for a one way trip.’ Father Minos held out the coin.

Manolis frowned and straightened his back. ‘What do you mean? One way?’

‘I’m not coming back. I have a new parish.’

‘Are you ill?’

Father Minos shook his head. ‘No. I’ve been given permission to live on the island.’

Manolis opened his mouth to ask a question and then thought better of it. This was not the time.

Father Minos watched as Aghios Nikolaos disappeared from view and wondered if he would ever see the town again. It was too late for him to have second thoughts and doubts now. He sat quietly until the island became clearly visible and the priest felt his heart leap as it always did when he first saw it. ‘I’m coming home,’ he murmured to himself.

He was greeted on the quay with pleasure, which turned to disbelief when he announced his intention of staying.

‘There’s nowhere for you to live.’

‘I’m sure there’s somewhere I can store my belongings. This time of year it will be no hardship to sleep out of doors.’

Still Yannis looked perplexed. ‘If you’d let us know you were coming we could have had somewhere prepared.’

‘I don’t need anywhere prepared,’ insisted the priest. ‘I’ve come to live with you as one of you. No special treatment.’

‘You’re not ill, are you?’

‘Not that I know of; I’ve come here because I want to be with you all.’

Yannis looked at the man in disbelief. ‘You want to be with us? You must be mad.’ He picked up one of the priest’s bundles and began to walk up the path. ‘You’d better bring your belongings to my house for the time being. There’s room now Spiro’s living up at the hospital.’

Father Minos looked in bewilderment at Yannis’s back. He was not usually so unwelcoming. He picked up two of his sacks and followed in Yannis’s wake. The heat seemed even greater on the island than it had when he waited at Aghios Nikolaos. He reached Yannis’s house and dropped his burdens gratefully.

‘May I come in?’

‘Of course.’ Yannis was sitting on the end of his mattress. ‘Put them where you like.’

‘The hospital’s finished, then?’

Yannis nodded. ‘Takkis had it habitable well before the worst of the weather. Spiro and Doctor Stavros keep thinking of improvements they want to make so I doubt if it will ever be finished.’

‘I’d like to see it later. What else has been happening since I was last here?’ Father Minos sat down beside Yannis.

‘Not much. Pavlakis wrote asking for a load of personal information which we refused to give him, Doctor Stavros visits us regularly, and more people have been sent out.’

‘Is that why you’re so depressed?’

Yannis shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It could be.’

‘Is that all that’s on your mind?’

Yannis rose abruptly and walked to the other side of the tiny room. ‘I’m sick of living here. I was so proud of this hovel when I first built it, now I hate it.’

‘So why don’t you move into one of the other houses? There are plenty of them.’

‘I made a promise to stay here until everyone had a decent house to live in. Only then was I entitled to have one. I know which one I want. It will take a lot of repair work, but one day I’ll move in.’

‘You’re lonely, aren’t you?’

‘I miss having Spiro around.’

Father Minos shook his head. ‘It’s more than that. It’s an inner loneliness. You should get married.’

Yannis laughed harshly. ‘You’re not allowed to marry if you’re a leper.’

‘So who’s going to stop you? How many of the men and women who live together over here are legally married to each other? Not a single one. No one condemns them and I’m sure God doesn’t.’

Yannis looked uncomfortable. ‘Let’s go up to the hospital and tell Spiro you’re here to stay.’

Word had already spread around the island that the priest had come to live with them and all the way to the hospital they were stopped and asked if the news were true. It took almost an hour to cover the short distance and Spiro was waiting impatiently for them. After a brief greeting Father Minos began to make a round of the mattresses spaced out on the floor.

‘Is he really going to stay?’ asked Spiro.

‘So he says. He’s brought his belongings and they’re in my house. It was the only place I could think of at such short notice.’

‘Fine. He’ll be company for you.’

‘What makes you think I’m not happy living on my own?’

‘It’s not natural. I think you should take a look at things as they really are. We’re stuck here for life. God knows how long that will be for some of us, but it could be a long time for you. You’re young and in pretty good shape. You can’t live like a monk forever. Take a look around and see what’s staring you in the face.’

Yannis shook his head. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. How’s it going up here?’

‘Not bad, I’ll probably have a spare mattress by the end of the week.’ Spiro indicated with a slight nod of his head. ‘Thanassis is just sinking into oblivion. Ritsa sat up with him last night. She was convinced he would go then.’

Yannis allowed his eyes to wander over the still form. ‘I’m glad she was wrong. At least Father Minos is here now.’

Spiro frowned. ‘That could cause a problem. Will the priest accept placing him in the tower?’

‘There’s no alternative. He knows that.’

‘He may not feel he can condone it, though. Why has he come? Is he sick?’

‘Apparently he wants to be with us.’

Spiro snorted. ‘The man’s mad. Still, he’ll be useful.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Once the novelty has worn off he’ll be bored to tears and only too willing to help with anything. He could even be an encouragement to some of the lazy devils who are only too willing to sit in the sun and say they’re not fit enough to lift a finger.’

Yannis grinned. ‘Maybe we could get him to preach a sermon about the lazy being made to toil for ever after their death, whilst the industrious live a life of idleness in heaven.’

Yiorgo Pavlakis raised his glass. ‘Let us drink to our success.’ Obediently his friends raised their glasses. ‘Bring some more bottles, Louisa.’

‘Haven’t you had enough?’ muttered Louisa beneath her breath.

She placed the bottles beside her husband, wishing the party would break up and she could go to bed. Since the result of the election had been posted outside the Town Hall Yiorgo had been celebrating steadily. He would no doubt pay for it the following day with bleary eyes and a headache that would make him surly and lethargic. A thin wail from the upper floor drew her attention.

‘I’ll have to go; you’ve woken Anna.’

Before Yiorgo could stop her she had left the taverna and was on her way up the stairs to their daughter’s bedroom. The child was hot and wanted a drink. With a sigh Louisa retraced her steps downstairs and collected a cup of water. The child was a nuisance. Her earnings were dwindling and Pavlos kept urging her to earn more money to help him pay his heavy gambling debts.

Wearily Louisa returned to the taverna. The men were still there, huddled close together and talking quietly. Despite the number of glasses they had consumed they showed no sign of intoxication. She sat on the high stool and leant against the wall, closing her eyes.

‘Louisa, more bottles.’

She stumbled into the taverna carrying the bottles by their necks.

‘Bring a glass for yourself and join us.’

Sullenly she did as he bade her, knowing that if she refused the honour of drinking with the men Yiorgo would take it as a personal insult to himself and to his friends. She raised her glass. ‘To my successful husband, of whom I am very proud.’

Yiorgo beamed with pleasure. ‘To my beautiful wife. Could any man be more fortunate than me?’ He glanced round, daring anyone to contradict him.