Manolis had told Doctor Stavros that the priest was living on the island, but he was totally unprepared for the sight that met his eyes when he made his weekly visit. Struggling with a block of masonry was an unkempt figure; the only thing distinguishing him from the other men on the island was a large cross hanging round his neck. Wiping the sweat from his eyes the priest held out a calloused hand.
‘I would never have recognised you!’
‘Only practical, besides, I’ll need my robes when I take the church services. No point in ruining them.’
‘You really plan to stay indefinitely?’
‘I have no choice. The Bishop made it quite clear that I would not be welcome to return.’
‘You’re a brave man.’
‘Foolish is probably a better word,’ smiled Father Minos. ‘The only difference between us is that I stay the night and you don’t.’
Father Minos watched as the doctor walked up to the hospital to check on the clean and well cared for patients. From the hospital the doctor moved from house to house, examining ulcers, nodules and eyes, making a note of his findings in his notebook ready to be transferred to the ledger he kept on the mainland. He wanted to speak to Yannis before he left for the day and somehow he seemed to be elusive on this occasion. He finally found him inside the church, scrubbing the floor with vigour.
‘What’s this for?’
Yannis straightened up and grinned. ‘We plan to use the church again. The last of the people have finally been found accommodation, some of it is only temporary, but it means we can clean the church out. Father Minos is getting quite excited. He wants it ready by Sunday for a service.’
‘I’m pleased for you. Everyone housed. That’s a fine accomplishment. Where’s Father Minos living?’
‘He’s staying with me until there’s another house ready.’
Doctor Stavros smiled. ‘It’s time you stopped working for others and did something for yourself. I’d rather you didn’t spend another winter in that shelter.’
‘So would I! The last time we had a mistral I thought I was going to take off. I lost some of the roof.’ He walked from the dim church into the sunlight and blinked. ‘That’s bright,’ he said as he sat on the ground to take a well-earned rest.
Father Minos read the letter joyfully and went in search of Yannis. The priest waved the letter at him. ‘Mr Pavlakis has had a bill passed. You’re to get thirty drachmas a month.’
Yannis’s face lit up. ‘You mean he’s really done it without us having to give him all that stupid information he asked us for originally?’
‘Read the letter.’
Yannis brushed his hands down his trousers. ‘Let me see.’ He scanned the words eagerly, then read the letter again more slowly. ‘They’ve given it to us in theory, but there’s still a problem. If we have the money over here no one from the mainland will accept it as payment for anything and if we keep the money on the mainland how are we going to pay anyone? We’ll be no better off.’
Father Minos smiled. ‘I hope by now Andreas has seen Mr Pavlakis and laid a simple solution before him. Your names are entered into a book and the amount you are paid. Whenever you wish to purchase something from the mainland the cost is deducted. All the deductions are added together, an amount withdrawn from the bank and the individual vendors are each paid whatever is due to them. That way the money doesn’t leave the mainland, yet you can buy whatever you wish.’
Yannis considered the idea. ‘That’s fine, but who does all this buying and paying and keeping the books.’
‘Manolis.’
‘Manolis! He’s just a fisherman. He’s never done any book-keeping.’
‘We have two on the island who can show him how to do it, besides, it will give him a good excuse to be over here most of the day.’
‘You approve of him and Flora, then?’
Father Minos shrugged. ‘Who am I to judge? I feel desperately sorry for both of them. I pray for a solution.’
‘Doctor Stavros doesn’t approve.’
‘How could he? He’s a doctor. Doctors say lepers shouldn’t marry because it speeds up the disease.’
‘But you’ve married couples since you’ve been here.’
‘Of course! If they’re living together a blessing on their union isn’t going to affect their illness, but it can give them an easy mind.’
Yiorgo Pavlakis cleared his throat, pushed back his hair and looked around the council chamber.
‘I hoped that today we might be able to finalise the details about the pension for the lepers who live on Spinalonga.’ He paused, hoping no one would start to ask questions. ‘I have worked out the book keeping for the project and it should be quite simple to instigate and run. A large ledger, maybe two, will have the name of each person on a separate page. The date and the sum given entered. When anyone wishes to purchase goods from the mainland the bill is given to the bookkeeper. He will deduct the amount from the balance. The total expenditure is added up and the amount withdrawn from the bank to pay the bills.’
‘Who would be responsible for keeping the ledgers?’
‘I have been told that there are two trained book-keepers on the island.’
‘Who would make the purchases and pay the bills?’
‘I understand that the young boatman who ferries the doctor across would be willing to undertake both purchases and payment. May I have your approval for the suggestion?’
Hands were raised and Yiorgo sat back well satisfied. Thanks to Father Andreas this had been simple. ‘Motion passed,’ he announced to the clerk. ‘Now,’ Yiorgo shuffled his papers. ‘We must discuss the real purpose of our meeting. I have received a communication…’ His voice droned on and the council members settled into their customary positions with their eyes open whilst mentally they allowed their thoughts to wander.
Yannis looked across the bay towards his home, fighting down the surge of longing that was threatening to overwhelm him.
‘What is it, Yannis?’ Phaedra was at his side.
‘Just homesick; how far do you think it is from here to the mainland?’
‘I’ve no idea. A long way.’ Suddenly she became fearful. ‘No, Yannis, you mustn’t try to swim that far.’
‘I don’t intend to, but I could probably float that distance quite easily.’
‘Please, Yannis, you’ll be drowned.’
‘When I first came here I would have drowned myself with pleasure, but not now. I’ll get there safely, but it may take a little time for me to get back.’
He explained to her his idea of using one of the wooden bathtubs that the doctor had procured for them. The current should take him near enough to the opposite shore for him to swim to land. Once there it was just a question of walking into the village and waiting until his family rose at dawn.
‘How will you get back?’
‘I’m sure I’ll find a way. You don’t need to worry about me.’
Phaedra did worry. She was filled with dread should Yannis drown or decide to stay hidden near his family, and tried to persuade him to take her with him.
‘Now that’s being silly,’ he chided her. ‘You’ve told me that you can hardly swim. If it did capsize you could drown.’
‘How long will you be gone?’
‘I can’t say for certain. I’ll go at night, but it depends where I manage to land and how far I have to walk to Plaka. I expect I’ll be at least three days.’
Phaedra pursed her lips. ‘I wish there was some way you could let me know you were safe.’
‘That’s easy. I’ll ask Anna to wave her red scarf to let you know I’m there.’
With that Phaedra had to be content. ‘When are you going?’
‘Tonight.’
She swallowed quickly. ‘Are you sure, Yannis? Wouldn’t it be better to wait awhile?’
‘There’s no moon tonight. I’m going to speak to Takkis and Spiro now as I’ll need some help.’
Phaedra listened whilst he outlined his plan to the two men. They were full of enthusiasm and encouragement, eager to help him carry his bathtub down to the jetty, offering advice about currents and the shortest distance to the shore.
‘Couldn’t Manolis take you over?’ asked Phaedra.
Yannis shook his head. ‘If the authorities found out he’d have his boat impounded. It wouldn’t be fair to put him in that position. If he lost his boat he wouldn’t be able to come to see Flora.’
Spiro and Takkis grinned. ‘I just wish he’d stop bringing her geraniums. The whole place reeks of them. Couldn’t she have a fancy for marrows or onions? At least they’d be useful.’
Yannis waited until the cooking fires began to glow, then he, Spiro and Takkis picked up his bathtub and marched openly down to the jetty. From beside the storehouse Yannis took a length of wood and climbed into the bobbing tub.
Spiro looked at the flimsy craft in apprehension. ‘You’re running a risk, you know, Yannis. It all sounds easy, but you could end up miles out at sea.’
‘It’s not likely,’ he assured Spiro with more confidence than he felt. ‘If the current does double back I’m more likely to be sitting by the island tomorrow than on my way to Rhodes.’
Once away from the shore it was darker than Yannis had envisaged. He felt panic rising in him and tried to reason with himself. All the time he stayed afloat he was in no danger at all. The mainland was a dark mass in front of him and he used the length of wood as an improvised paddle to speed his slow progress. He shifted his position cautiously, the tub rocking wildly as he did so, bringing a return of the panic that had assailed him earlier. The sky darkened and he cursed himself for his stupidity for trying the trip on a moonless night. He could no longer see the landmass in front of him and had to rely on his instinct and the current to take him towards his goal.
He felt a grating and shuddering beneath him as he skimmed across a submerged rock, tilting dangerously for a moment or two before rocking on his way. With a sudden lurch that nearly threw him into the water the tub stopped, stuck fast between two rocks. Without any hesitation Yannis slipped over the side. The water was deeper than he had anticipated and almost up to his neck, he floundered, slipped and swam across the rocks until he reached the shallows and was able to walk on dry land.
Now that the time had come Yannis felt strangely nervous. Stifling his fears he walked quietly along the road to the farm where he had been born, realising with a shock that he had tears running down his face. He longed to push open the door and rush inside. Instead he crept into the yard; then risked drawing attention to himself by pulling the handle on the pump and plunging his head under the cold water. It trickled down his throat and made him gasp. The kitchen door opened and a wavering oil lamp was held aloft.
‘Who’s there? Who is it?’ The oil lamp began to move closer.
‘Yiorgo?’
‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Yannis. Your brother Yannis.’
‘How did you get here?’
‘It’s a long story. How’s Mamma?’
‘Much the same.’
‘Can I come in and see her?’
Yiorgo hesitated. ‘I’ll ask Pappa.’
‘I’ll understand if he says no. If I can’t come in could you bring me some dry clothes and some food?’
Yannis did not see Yiorgo nod in the darkness; the sound of the door closing told him he was once more alone. Yiorgo eventually returned with the oil lamp held aloft.
‘Come into the kitchen.’
Yannis walked inside the door and looked around him. It was exactly as he remembered. A chair was thrust towards him and he sat down wearily. His father studied his appearance. The disease was quite apparent in his son now. His eyebrows were missing, one side of his nose flattened where the bone had been absorbed, the whole side of his face covered in white nodules. Yannis tore a chunk from a loaf of bread with hands that were clawed and masticated noisily.
Yiorgo turned away. This was his brother, his brilliant brother whose future had been destroyed along with his health and his looks. The man sitting before him looked old beyond his years, careworn and pathetic. Yiorgo cleared his throat.
‘Before you see Mamma I think we ought to smarten you up a bit.’
Yannis smiled ruefully at him. ‘I didn’t wear my best for the trip. I must look like a beggar. My clothes are soaked.’
‘What did you do? Swim?’
‘Only the last few yards, I borrowed one of the bathtubs.’
‘I’ll find you some clothes.’ Shaking with emotion Yiorgo left the kitchen and Yannis senior gazed at his son.
‘What have they done to you?’
‘Nothing. I took a bit of a beating when I was in hospital, but that was a long while ago. I’m fine now.’
A silence fell between the two men.
‘I’m sorry, Pappa.’ Yannis put his head on his arm and sobbed brokenly. ‘I shouldn’t have come here, but I wanted to see Mamma.’
His father watched, a lump in his throat. He took a bottle from the shelf and poured a generous measure into a glass. ‘Drink that, you’ll feel better.’ He put the bottle to his own lips and took a long pull, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Go on, drink it.’
Yannis lifted the glass and allowed a little to trickle down his throat. He choked as the fiery liquid slipped down, then took another small sip. ‘I haven’t tasted brandy in years. I’d forgotten how strong it was.’
Yannis sat down opposite his son. ‘Did you get permission to come here?’
Yannis shook his head. ‘I floated over in a bathtub.’ He took another cautious sip of the brandy. The initial shock and emotion having passed he felt better now.
‘What made you do a foolhardy thing like that?’
‘For years I’ve looked across at this farm, wondered what you were all doing, how you were keeping. I didn’t know about Mamma until Father Minos visited us, and I didn’t know about Maria until Andreas was able to send a letter to me. Finally I had to come myself.’
Yiorgo entered with a bundle of clothes in his arms. ‘These should fit you – and I don’t need them,’ he added, thrusting them at Yannis.
‘I’m grateful for anything.’
‘Where are you going?’
Yannis looked at his brother in surprise. ‘Going? Nowhere.’
‘You can’t stay here.’ Yiorgo spoke more sharply than he had intended.
‘I know. I’m an outcast. No one wants a leper in their midst. Even the hospitals treat you like a criminal. I didn’t ask to be ill. It’s not my fault.’