Heart and Soul (36 page)

“A lady.”

Stavros looked at the name and the phone number.

“Boy, if you had known her back then you wouldn't have called her a lady”

“She looks fine now.” The older man's face was a thin line of disapproval.

“Whatever.” Stavros tore the paper in half and threw it into the wastepaper basket.

Back at her B&B, Vonni waited.

And waited.

After two days a man rang and asked to speak to her. She knew that it wasn't Stavros. It was an older man, a kindly voice that she had heard recently.

“It's not my job or my business, but I thought you should know that your son didn't take your address.”

“But why did you not give it to him?”

“I did try, but there was a sort of a mix-up.”

Vonni knew that she shouldn't ask, but she had to know.

“What sort of a mix-up? Did he leave it behind when he left?”

“Sort of, yes.”

“How?”

“He just didn't take it with him, madam. I didn't want you to be sitting there waiting. After all you did for him …”

“And did he say anything? Anything at all? You can tell me …”

“No, madam. Nothing.”

“Thank you. That's a relief anyway.”

And Vonni packed her little bag and went out to the airport. Simon had told her how if you traveled standby on a plane, it was much cheaper. And now that she had no money at all she would, of course, have to take such things into consideration.

“If Vonni can go to England, maybe she could come to Ireland to our wedding?” Declan suggested.

“Sure she could.” Fiona was casual. “And when we get round to organizing one we'll certainly invite her.”

“Which might be sooner rather than later?” Declan finished.

“Or which might be thought out carefully rather than rushed into,” teased Fiona.

Sometimes Declan found it worrying that she didn't want to set
the date right away. He wanted to marry her tomorrow, but he wouldn't put her under pressure. He would wait until she was ready. They had their whole lives ahead of them.

His father's friend Muttie had an address for Maud and Simon, so Declan sent them fifty euros and a note.

Maud and Simon read this letter carefully.

“A necklace,” Maud suggested. “They have nice filigree ones up in Kalatriada.”

“Yes, but they're not really
of
this area. Maybe it should be some Aghia Anna pottery?” Simon was struggling to obey the message in the letter.

“We'd break it, it's such a long journey home, Simon.” Maud was practical.

“If Vonni comes home, we could ask her, of course,” Simon said.

“I forgot to tell you—I met Yorghis, and he says she's coming tomorrow.”

“Did he say …?”

“No and I didn't ask …” Maud finished.

“Sure it's her business,” Simon agreed.

They planned how to welcome her.

“I keep thinking we should get some wine or Champagne even,” Simon said.

“Yes, but she's like Mother. It doesn't agree with her.” There wasn't an ounce of disapproval in Maud's voice. “We'll just get in eggs and mushrooms, bread and honey. I imagine she's coming on the morning boat. So Yorghis says.”

“We'll be there to meet her,” Simon said.

There were five men and two women waiting for Vonni. Andreas, his brother Yorghis, her good friend Dr. Leros and the lawyer Takis, and Simon. Maria was there, and Maud.

When Vonni came into harbor she saw them from the deck of the ferryboat and waved, delighted. They decided to have breakfast at Mesanihta. They all searched her face for some hint of how things had gone for her in the few days she had been away.

But since they didn't ask any direct question they could not complain that they didn't get any answer.

Andreas wondered were the English people friendly? Very, very welcoming, apparently. Yorghis wondered were they loud? Some of them had ended up in his cooling-off rooms when they had been obstreperous over the years. No, Vonni hadn't found anyone loud. Rather the reverse.

Dr. Leros came nearest to saying what was in his mind when he wondered had she been worried about her health—gone to see a specialist? Vonni was taken aback by this. No, no—her health was perfect.

Maria asked what kind of clothes the women wore in England and Vonni said she didn't really know, she hadn't really looked. Takis asked had her business turned out as she had hoped. Vonni looked at him vaguely and said it had all been done as had been planned. He got nothing more.

Maud and Simon asked no questions at all. They told her that everything had gone very well. There had been very good sales of the little blue mugs. They had put them in the window and people came
in especially to look at them. They had been up to the hospital and chosen the wool for blind people. They had done some babysitting at the Anna Beach Hotel and had been paid. They had put the money aside for Vonni to cover their board and lodging. They were learning ten words of Greek a day and they had learned a little Greek dance. Their blond hair was shining in the morning sun and their skin was golden. They looked a lot healthier and less eccentric than when they first arrived.

Vonni smiled at them with pleasure. Not everything worked out well. But some things did.

This was what she had to hold on to.

Simon and Maud carried Vonni's little bag home for her after all the warm bread and honey at Mesanihta.

“Is it good to be back?” Maud asked.

“To your real home?” Simon defined.

“Yes, very good.” Vonni looked around her, happily greeting people here and there.

“We got lots of shop
avgas
in case you'd like an omelette,” Simon said.

“I could murder an omelette,” Vonni said with a tired smile. She went in to change her clothes while the twins got the food ready.

They were so kind and attentive and totally undemanding.

“Well, now, you two,” she said to them later, “I can't have you working for your entire stay here. I want you to enjoy yourselves, take a few days off. Take the money you earned and go and see more of the island.”

“But we thought we could repay you a little,” Simon said.

“No need. Aren't we all doing fine the way we are? I'd love you to see all the beautiful places, the gorge and the caves and the empty beaches up in the north of the island. When you are busy professional people—a lawyer, a teacher—you will always look back and remember it. That would give me huge pleasure …”

“If you really mean it…?”

“If you're totally sure …?”

Vonni looked at them thoughtfully The few euros they had earned minding children at night in the Anna Beach would go a long way to seeing them around the island. “Please believe me. And another thing?”

“Yes, Vonni?”

“Why do
you
think I was in England? I notice you never tried to find out. What do you think it was about?”

They paused for a moment and looked at each other.

“Go on, say it—I wouldn't ask otherwise.”

“I think someone died,” Maud said.

“Yes, I think you went to a funeral,” Simon agreed.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because your eyes are very empty. Different somehow.”

“And even if you're smiling you seem sad.”

The time flew by, the holiday was over and it was time for a bronzed Maud and Simon to go back to Ireland. Vonni had helped them to choose Declan's gift for Fiona, a beautiful hand-painted scarf.

“Will you come over for Fiona's wedding?” Simon asked the night before they left.

“No, Simon. I'm too old to travel now,” she said.

“But you went to England.” Simon was always remorselessly logical.

“That's because it was an errand of mercy,” Maud reminded him.

“An errand of mercy,” Vonni repeated wonderingly

“Was that the wrong thing to say?” Maud was distressed.

“No, it was a lovely thing to say. Do you think you two learned anything here, anything that will stay with you for life?”

“Well, we learned a little Greek. Not enough, I know, but some,” Simon said.

“And we learned that you don't have to have lots of money to make you happy,” Maud added.

“That's for sure. Where did you learn that?”

“Well, everywhere, I suppose. Up in the mountains where they have hardly anything. And here with you. You don't have a lot, but you don't ever seem to want a big income or anything. You just get on with life, fine the way you are. No matter what happens.”

Vonni was surprised. “But you two don't think money buys happiness, do you?”

“No, but we meet a lot of people who do.”

“Do you know, I think you two are pretty good at getting on with life no matter what happens,” Vonni said. “You're managing just great.”

“Please come to Ireland. We'd love to show you things,” Simon suggested.

“We'll take care of you like you took care of us,” Maud offered.

“Let's wait until Declan and Fiona fix a day. We'll see then,” Vonni said.

“People always say ‘we'll see’ when they mean ‘no,’” Simon grumbled.

“You're very observant, Simon. You'll be a good lawyer,” Vonni said. She felt a great closeness to these young people. It had been a while since she had let herself get close to people in any way.

Later that night, Takis paid a call.

“Where are the Irish kids?”

“Down catching some bouzouki in the harborfront. Andreas and Yorghis and I will join them later—do you want to come?”

“No. I want to talk to you.”

“Oh dear.”

“Oh dear, indeed. Well, he's gone, left Britain, though he's not meant to. He didn't turn up to check in as he was supposed to. Probably went on a day trip to France and didn't come back. You've said good-bye to your money.”

“It was his money, Takis, you know that. His to do what he liked with.”

“He never met you, did he, never thanked you.”

“How do you know that?”

“The authorities there were in touch with me. I spoke to that man—he remembers you going to visit.”

“It's not important.”

Takis sighed heavily. “There was never any use talking to you.”

“There's more, isn't there?”

“Oh, Vonni, you can read faces like a book. Why could you not read the face of your own son?”

“I told you, it didn't matter. It was his money to spend when and as he liked. What more have you to tell me?”

“He shared a cell with a Scottish fellow called Jacky, and Jacky asked the people to forward a letter to you. They sent it to me and I'm afraid I opened it.”

“Really?”

“I was afraid it might be a begging letter.”

“And was it, Takis?”

“In a way, yes. But I thought you should see it.”

“Very generous of you, considering it was addressed to me.”

“Just read it, Vonni.”

She did.

When she looked up, Takis was looking out the window, over the rooftops that led down to the harbor. He did not want to meet her eye. He tried to arrange his body so that it did not scream the words “I told you so” at her.

“Well, thank you, Takis. Now we all know where we are.”

“Yes, that's true,” he said.

“And I think we are on our way to the harbor, don't you?”

“You can go to a party after that? You are a remarkable woman, Vonni.”

She smiled at him as she smiled at her friends all around this island: the smile of someone who felt lucky and free and who tonight had been proved to have paid all her debts. She didn't want sympathy, she wanted solidarity.

“Pame,
Vonni. Let's go,” he said.

“Pame,
Takis. Let's go to the taverna,” she said.