The Unquiet Mind (The Greek Village Collection Book 8) (21 page)

Chapter 27

Babis is on the phone. ‘Yes that’s right, your house is safe... No, there is no need to sell it ... No, there is no need to strengthen it ... Yes, all the houses, the whole village. There was never any fault, it was a mistake. No, I assure you … Yes, that does include your mama’s house … Yes and your uncle’s. Yes, please not to worry. Okay, goodbye.’ He puts the phone down with a sigh and looks up as Juliet and Sophia enter the room.

‘I hear congratulations are in order,’ Juliet opens. ‘Well done. What a low trick.’ Babis straightens some papers on his desk. ‘Who was behind it? Gerasimos or the mayor? I still haven’t really understood …’

Sophia looks around the office, which is new and crisp-edged. She cannot help but compare it to the offices in the convent: full of heavy, dark, old wooden furniture. This modern look is so much brighter and fresher.

‘Anyway, it’s great,’ Juliet continues. ‘So thank you, Babis, for saving the village. Maybe that sounds dramatic, but it’s true, as far as I am told.’

‘Ah well, you know, you do what you can, ladies. I am the lawyer for the people, I must act with their interests at heart.’

Instinctively, Sophia goes no further into the room. She does not trust him.

‘Please, come, sit.’ Babis flattens his tie down the front of his shirt and sits back in his big black swivelling leather office chair. It makes him look very small and he does not seem to have complete control over its dipping and swivelling. He comes to a standstill by placing his forearms on his desk.

‘Oh, yes, right,’ he says abruptly and pushes his chair back. He swivels round to take a file down from the floor-to-ceiling shelves of paperwork behind him, most of which are empty. An intricately carved wooden horse with plastic tack adorns one shelf, an orange and transparent glass cockerel on another. Pushing himself back, he grips the desk’s edge to regain control. Juliet glances at Sophia, her eyes sparkling.

‘Please sit,’ he repeats to Sophia, who is still hovering. ‘Right, it was your baba who made out the will, signed by them both. Let’s see.’ He turns over one of the loose sheets of paper that is covered with official looking stamps. ‘Okay, so basically, he has left everything to you in the belief that you will do what is best for Vetta, Sotiria, Angeliki, Sada, and Sophia.’ He looks at the list of names again. ‘Oh, that last one is you. Five girls, eh, that cannot have been easy.’ He looks up and smiles. Sophia shifts in her seat. The air conditioning is on full blast and it is blowing on the back of her neck. It is too cold to be pleasant.

‘So that means the house then?’

‘Well, no, there is more than the house. There is what is described as a net storage down in the port. That is prime property; you could sell that for a fortune.’ His eyes glisten. Sophia’s face is expressionless. ‘If you wanted to,’ Babis adds.

‘That’s Vetta’s,’ Sophia says.

‘No, that is officially yours now.’ Babis looks up from the papers.

‘That’s Vetta’s.’ Sophia repeats with a firm tone, and it is clear the subject is closed.

‘I see. Do you want me to make that officially Vetta’s? Technically she will have to …’

‘She lives and works there. Nothing needs to change,’ Sophia says.

‘Yes, but in order for it to be officially Vetta’s …’ Babis begins, but the look Sophia gives him silences his words and he returns to shifting through the papers.

‘Ah, here it is, I knew I had seen something more. Not that it is much use.’ He reads. Sophia waits. He seems to read for a long time. Juliet and Sophia exchange looks.

‘Right, so there’s the house and the net storage, and it seems your family has had land for generations up on the ridge. As far as I can make out, somewhere south-east of the town. It covers over a hundred and fifty
stremas
, which is a big-sized plot.’ He looks up at Sophia, his eyes wide. ‘But I believe,’ he looks back down at the papers, ‘yes, here is a note. There is no water. So it is worthless land, really. You cannot graze livestock without water and you would be hard pushed to get planning permission to build up there, and even if you did, what with no water and only donkeys to carry things up there, who would want it?’ He looks at her again, his eyes no longer so wide.

‘Why would my family have land up there?’ Sophia asks.

Babis pulls down the corners of his mouth and sticks his chin out and back. ‘Well, presumably they used to farm it when Orino still had water.’

‘What, travelling up there every day and back?’ Sophia asks.

Babis turns back to the file, turning over one page after the next. ‘Ah no, here it is, or should I say was.’ He laughs at his joke, but as it makes no sense to either Juliet or Sophia, he laughs alone. ‘There was a house,’ he clarifies. ‘Two rooms, and a well and … and that’s it. It says here that the roof has gone.’ He looks up at Sophia. ‘I imagine a lot more has gone as well now. It will probably just be a pile of stones.’

Juliet leans over to her and whispers, ‘Are you okay?’

Sophia glances at her quickly and nods. The surprise is that her baba left it all in her hands. She who was meant to be evil, crazy even. Why not leave it for Sotiria? Well okay, she moved to America, but what about leaving it to Angeliki to sort out? He condemned himself by leaving it for her, Sophia, to sort it, condemned himself because it proved he thought her the most capable and still, he let her be sent to the convent as if she was an evil monster to be controlled. Her chin lifts in defiance.

‘I would like you to arrange to rent out the town house,’ Sophia clips. This catches Babis by surprise; he had started to clear the papers away.

‘Long-term rent, you mean?’ he asks.

‘Yes, to create an income for Sada and me,’ Sophia replies.

‘If it is money you are looking to make on an island like Orino, you would make more by holiday letting it.’ Babis has stopped stacking the papers and is rubbing the fingers of one hand with the fingers of his other, one hand rolling around the other, a small movement.

‘How does that work?’ Sophia asks and Babis begins his explanations about licencing and arranging a housekeeper to clean and to show the guests in and out. He offers to advertise on the Internet, ‘… for a small commission, of course.’ He jigs in his seat as he talks, becoming more and more animated until he finally cuts to the bottom line of how much she can expect to make. He freezes at this point to await her response.

‘Fine, do it,’ Sophia says, still with no emotion.

‘Okay. I will need a setup fee. That will be separate from the fee for sorting out the will. I will need money upfront to pay the housekeeper and there will be expenses for me to go and find someone willing to do this job. The house may need some updating and repairs, so there may be costs for that, too.’

‘I have no money,’ Sophia says quietly. The words filter through Babis’ monologue and he stops talking abruptly. ‘I take it no money has been left?’ The look on his face answers this question.

‘And my fee for sorting out the will?’ he asks. There is a slight edge to his voice. Juliet looks out the window.

‘I will pay you when the first rent comes in,’ Sophia says.

Babis pushes all the papers together and stuffs them back into the file. Some crease and get stuck, but he just pushes the harder and forces the file to close, pulling the elastic binder over it. He gives Sophia a long, hard stare before his eyes glaze over and he looks at his watch, muttering something about another appointment.

Sophia begins to stand.

‘Just a minute, Babis. What happened to you being a lawyer for the people? That was short-lived, wasn’t it?’ Juliet asks, remaining seated.

‘I have an office to run,’ Babis replies and stands. Sophia stands. Juliet remains seated.

‘If you had any sense, your reputation would be more important than your office.’ Juliet still doesn’t stand. Sophia slowly sits back down, obliging Babis to do the same.

Sophia looks at him long and hard. For a moment, she can only see the boy he must once have been, the boy before he lost his baba. He twitches under her gaze and is a man again, but a young man whose mama has gone to Athens to stay with her sister and not come back. There are so many people alone in the world, each trying to survive. Some with dignity like Juliet, others choosing to grab like Babis, but it is all a choice. It seems Juliet’s grace leaves room for her to enjoy her life a great deal more than Babis’ grabbing gives him. It is all down to fear. Juliet is not afraid; Babis is filled with fear.

‘Babis,’ Sophia says. ‘I am terrified I am not going to be able to survive in the world. Living with nuns prepares you for nothing. I am like a child.’ Although she says it for effect, the words ring true. She waits for the next words to come to her. ‘But if I let this fear take hold of me, I will cower and lash out at everything around me. It is not the way.’ Sophia looks into her lap and shakes her head as if consolidating her thoughts. ‘I think the only way is to not give the fear we feel any power, to trust and give room to people so they can show that they are good, don’t you?’ She looks directly at Babis. ‘All you have said about renting out my family home as a holiday let sounds expensive and complicated and my instinct is to be afraid and choose the route that I can understand more easily; just rent it out to some family, my instincts say. But if I choose that, I would not be trusting you, I would be giving in to the fear. I choose to trust you, Babis. I choose to believe that you will make the right choices, make the right purchases, and do all the right things to let the house out to its best advantage. That is a big trust, don’t you think?’ She still holds Babis with her eye contact. He nods, sideways and down. ‘How much would your fee be?’

He breaks her stare abruptly and looks instead to the ceiling, his lips moving. He takes his pen, scribbles some numbers, and then turns the paper to Sophia.

‘And how much rent could you get each month if you let it to tourists?’ Sophia asks. Juliet is no longer looking out of the window; she is staring at Sophia. Babis scribbles some more and turns another piece of paper towards her. She tries to show no reaction, but the amount is several times what she expected.

‘You believe you could get that?’ she asks. Babis nods. ‘Then I believe you, too. I offer you the first two calendar months’ rent to cover your fees and your costs and your own fear.’

His jaw drops open just a fraction and then he springs to life. ‘My dear Sophia, I would not dream of asking for such a sum. If you are fearful, I can understand that. Let me take that fear from you. I will do all that is necessary to have your place fully booked. I have no fear. Let us settle for just eight weeks’ rent to cover the setup charges and work forward from there …’ He smiles, his hand smoothing the cover of the file, his fingers finding the folded corners and straightening them out in that glorious moment when his mind must be swimming in the knowledge that she has just agreed to double his fees.

‘I can leave it in your hands then?’ Sophia stands, followed by Babis, Juliet showing no hurry.

They say their formal goodbyes. Babis reassures her not to be afraid, and they leave.

The air outside is still and hot. Initially, it is delicious after the air conditioning, but before they even reach the car, the sun is burning them.

They have not spoken since they left the office as Juliet starts the car and begins the drive home.

‘You know what, Sophia? I think you should train to be a lawyer.’ Juliet takes a second to think. ‘Or maybe even a boxer.’

Chapter 28

Sister Katerina hands Sophia the secateurs.

‘I deadhead them every day.’

‘I think perhaps they need to be pruned from lower down. Not now, but in the autumn, or at the latest, the spring.’

‘I usually do it in the spring. Look!’ Sister Katerina slowly straightens to point out a blue dragonfly.

‘Beautiful,’ Sophia replies.

‘So are the builders there today?’ Sister Katerina asks.

‘Yes. They already had the roof on before I left the village. Babis, that’s my lawyer, has been most helpful. Although I’m sure he will charge me for every step. You know, I think he thought I was quite mad, wanting to renovate the old house.’

‘It will be lovely to have you up here, Sophia. Permanently, I mean.’

‘Well, I’m not sure how it will work out. There’s no water, you know. Well, I say no water; apparently the well dries up by about July and you have to wait for the autumn rains.’

‘Trust in God,’ Sister Katerina says. ‘I’m sure you’ll find a way to live up here.’ She puts her basket of deadheads down and rubs her back.

‘Sit a while, Sister,’ Sophia says.

‘You are kind, my dear. The convent outside Saros must have been very sorry to lose you.’

‘I’m sure the abbess filled you in,’ Sophia says with a sly look.

‘It’s what the abbess said about you that made me sure we would get on. She said that she had had to have a word with you on several occasions for laughing and encouraging others to laugh at most irreverent moments.’ Sister Katerina sits on the bench by the church with a small sigh. ‘And besides, we have a mutual friend.’

‘Do we?’ Sophia stops her weeding and looks up, interested. But Sister Katerina’s eyes are closed and she seems to have nodded off. Sophia leaves the weeds and goes around the back of the church to the vegetable plot, which has been neglected in favour of the flowers. The sight of all there is to do thrills her, and she re-canes the peas and digs around the lettuces before Sister Katerina awakes and wanders round to find her.

‘Ah, there you are.’

‘I was just about to dig up some potatoes and some beetroots. I can make some
scordalia
to go with the beetroots for dinner tonight. Does that appeal?’

‘You know, you are showing me how much I was neglecting myself. Too often, I would boil up a potato and make that do. Sometimes not even that: a lettuce and grated carrot. They are easier to get out of the ground.’ Sister Katerina still has her gardening gloves on, which are far too big for her hands.

‘It can’t be easy living up here alone,’ Sophia soothes.

‘But now you are here! Has this Babis of yours given you any idea when the house will be ready?’

Sophia straightens up and pushes loose hairs from her face that have escaped from her ponytail, whilst watching a tortoise who clicks up the path. ‘He’d better not be heading for the lettuces,’ Sophia exclaims.

‘He is always heading for the lettuces,’ Sister Katerina laughs. Sophia gently lifts the big old tortoise and turns him around. His head darts in leaving just a shell, and the shell sits there unmoving. First his head reappears and then his legs. Without hesitation, he turns himself around and continues his route to the lettuce patch.

‘I will have to fence them in,’ Sophia says.

‘It won’t stop him.’ Sister Katerina steps past Sophia, pulls up a lettuce that’s about to flower, and puts it down in front of the tortoise. His beak opens and he begins to tear it to pieces, slowly chewing and swallowing, his neck stretching, his head pointing to the sky as he does so.

‘In truth, Babis has been amazing. Last year, when I first left the convent and he started sorting out the will, I had no idea how my life was going to work out. But he was good to his word. He has transformed the house in town and it’s fully booked for this summer. Without that, I could never have even thought to do up the house up here.’

‘And in the same mysterious way, God will find a way for you to have enough water to live up here.’

‘Well, I don’t know how mysterious it all is.’ Sophia chuckles. The night she went across the road to Stella’s for supper with Juliet is a night she will never forget. Juliet was drinking beer. Stella left Mitsos to deal with the customers so she could join them, and she drank beer too. Was it Sophia’s evil streak or just curiosity that made her decide to try some beer herself?

‘Oh, I’m not sure what all the fuss is about. It has a bitter aftertaste.’ But she took a second sip from Juliet’s glass to make sure. There was something strangely nice about it and so Stella poured her a glass of her own. She sipped it very slowly but as the evening grew into night, the beer made her giggle, which infected first Juliet and quickly Stella.

‘I think it’s sending me crazy.’ Sophia giggled.

‘Everyone is a little crazy,’ Stella replied.

‘Each in their own way,’ Juliet said.

‘No, they are all the same.’ Stella opened herself another bottle. ‘The government accuses us of stealing from them before we have even made a penny and they tax us in advance to assure themselves that they get their share. So what do we do? We do what anybody who wants to live would do. We find ways to hide what we earn and get more and more sneaky and more and more paranoid and it makes us crazy. We are crazy with paranoia and we sneak about and tell lies, to even our closest friends and family, about our incomes. Everyone I know lies and lies again about how they have not been paid and what they owe and how they do not have money until you wonder how they can eat. Yet they smoke two packets of cigarettes a day and drive a four-by-four and come out to eat chicken and chips and drink enough ouzo to sink a fishing boat.’

She took a breath at this point and swallowed more beer. ‘Listen to this, the latest gossip of the village. You know the photovoltaic field over there?’ She waves her hand around in the vague direction of the hill opposite Juliet’s, with the olive trees. ‘Well, there were only so many grants being offered and so there was a scramble by the farmers to get one. It all became the usual matter of who you know. Well, the man who has his field now filled with photovoltaic panels got the grant because his cousin worked in the government office that dealt with the applications. The cousin agreed to put his application to the top for a share of the income.’

Sophia took another tiny sip of beer, listening intently.

‘First the farmer had to pay for half of the installation. Then when the panels were working, he had to wait until the electricity they had generated paid off the European Union their half of the installation cost—in other words, pay back the grant. Then the cousin, who had also set up the bank accounts so they could be paid, took out all that was coming in to pay off the bribes he had had to give out to get the grant in the first place. And do you know what happened meanwhile?’ Stella paused for effect. ‘Two things happened. First, the electricity company took the signed agreements from all the fields they had made this deal with to the European court and reduced the amount they would pay the farmers for the energy, claiming they were in a state of national emergency. The people who signed the original deal had no say, and it cut their income by half.’ Stella paused before adding, ‘And secondly, because the farmer had spent all his money on the installation and the chopping down of his orange trees, he had no money and no income. His land was generating thousands of euros’ worth of electricity every month but between the company and his cousin, he saw nothing. Well, his electricity bill came to his house. One hundred euros. And this man who created the electricity in the first place could not afford to pay the bill and they cut the electricity off in his house.’ Stella knocked back the rest of her beer and slammed the glass on the table. The table shook and, as it was up against the tree with the fairy lights, they too shook, shadows bouncing for a moment.

Juliet shook her head, but it did not seem to be a surprise to her. Sophia was horrified and her mouth dropped partially open until Mitsos came out and asked if they wanted more beer. He had two bottles in his hand; he opened one and put it on the table. The other, he left with the cap on and put the opener next to it. His hand trailed across Stella’s shoulders as he returned inside. A little gesture designed to help her relax, perhaps. She lifted her shoulders and dropped them and smiled the smile of the defeated.

‘So we are all a little crazy, but in the same way,’ she concluded.

‘I see a different craziness,’ Juliet raised her head, ‘amongst the ex-pats.’ Stella topped up her glass. Sophia put her hand over her own glass; one drink felt like more than enough. ‘When they first move over here, they are so full of themselves. After years of grey sky and rain, just the sun makes you feel like a king, makes you feel blessed. They arrive with their handfuls of savings and dreams for the future and they begin to live as if they are on holiday. Beer at lunchtime, afternoons on the beach, eating out every night.’

Stella raised her glass to this thought and Juliet admitted the irony of her words by raising hers in return.

‘But as the appreciative greetings fit for royalty made by the bartenders serving the lunchtime beer become normal, it loses its impact and as their savings begin to diminish, these ex-pat kings and queens start to buy their beer from the kiosk and drink at home. They no longer get their daily greeting as revered big spenders and their life becomes normal again. And here is the strange thing that I have seen happen over and over again: They begin to complain. They find things to complain about. They complain about the Greeks. After all, it must be their fault. Wasn’t it them and their country who made them feel so fantastic in the first place? So why are they not making them feel fantastic now? That is the first thing that happens. Then the second thing. They begin to grandiose what they have left behind. The house they left in the UK or France or wherever was so big, so new. Everything worked properly. Their families are grandiosed: they were so loving, so well-known. I have met a half-Austrian woman claiming pictures of Austrian castles she had postcards of were old family seats. I have met English people claiming their fathers and grandfathers were these great people who made huge impacts on the government and you think, “If all this is true, why did they leave? It doesn’t fit”.’ Juliet took a drink of her beer. ‘They spend their days talking about these things until they can talk about nothing else. It’s their own form of crazy.’

‘I have seen that,’ Stella agreed.

‘I was crazy,’ Sophia said, surprising herself. ‘When they said I had this demon in me. At first, I knew it was nonsense but then as time passed and more and more accusations were made and evidence was presented to me, I began to think I was crazy and I think I became a little mad. I watched myself from the outside in everything I did, watched to see any sign of the demon. But as I saw nothing abnormal, I began to interpret the normal as abnormal. Everything had a different meaning. Everything I said and did. I tried to hide myself from the other sisters. I found the vegetable garden a great place to be, away from everybody. So I stayed amongst the plants and the insects and the chickens until slowly, and I mean slowly—it must have been years—I saw I was not crazy and I began to quite like who I was.’

‘I’ll drink to that.’ Stella clicked glasses with them both.

‘I think, and I am speaking from my own experience.’ Juliet put on a pompous voice as she said this last sentence, but something about the way she did it implied that she was also serious. ‘You have to find out where you need to be, what situation suits you best. In England, I felt I was struggling after my divorce from Mick. I was struggling to find a job and struggling to find a home. I don’t mean I couldn’t find these things, but it was my life and after years of Mick, it felt precious, so I was not about to short-change myself on a job I didn’t like or a home that felt like make-do.’ She turned her glass between her hands and looked up to the smudge of the Milky Way that hung over the village. ‘So I thought of all the places I had been and all the times that seemed the most precious and that was it. I knew I had to be in Greece.’

‘I did the same after my divorce,’ Stella said. Sophia looked at her quickly. She had assumed Stella had been with Mitsos forever. ‘I asked myself what I wanted most in the world, and the answer was I wanted to do business, big business.’ Sophia turned her head to look at the facade of the taverna.

‘Oh not this,’ Stella laughed, light and childlike. She seemed too small to run even the taverna. ‘No, this is just for fun now. I have a factory that makes candles just outside of Saros. I run it with an English friend. We make and distribute beeswax candles to the Orthodox churches all over the world and we make, you might have heard of them, “AromaLite” scented candles that people use as therapy. That is a growing industry.’ Stella didn’t seem so small as she talked. She had an air of authority that made Sophia reassess her.

‘So you need to know where you want to be, either geographically or …’ Stella did not finish her sentence. ‘Although if I was living at Juliet’s, I would not be sure if I would want to move. Did you put that swinging chair up on your front porch?’

‘Um-hm.’ Juliet grunted her answer. ‘It’s a thought, Sophia. Have you any idea where you want to be? That might be the place to start, rather than what you want to do. Not that you are not welcome to stay.’

There was no thought behind the image. The top of Orino Island came along with the feeling of peace and in that moment, with Juliet, who had rebuilt her old farmhouse, and Stella, who had built an international enterprise, she decided to rebuild the family house in its hundred and fifty
stremas
of land and live in semi-seclusion. She could think of nothing nicer. Occasional trips to the town and across to the village, Juliet and Stella and Mitsos to come to stay. The whole thing just slotted into place.