Among the Olive Groves Page 18
His mind tumbled and crashed like tides in a spring storm and as the clock struck five am, he finally gave up. He changed into his swimming trunks, quietly left the apartment and padded to the pool. The sun was beginning to creep over the horizon as he dived in. Powering through the water, he swam length after length, desperate to rid his brain of everything. By the time his lungs and limbs began to scream from overexertion, the sun had fully risen.
He finally stopped and leaned on the edge of the pool, letting his hard, deep breathing settle into a more normal rhythm. His mind was clearer, but he was still angry with Jase, and knew he would need to talk to him to clear the air. Pulling himself out of the pool, he looked up to see a worse for wear Shane staggering home.
Shane stopped in his tracks, then walked over, pulled up a sunlounger and took a seat next to Fletch.
“I’m sorry, mate. I should’ve told you.”
“I don’t have a problem with you, Shane, and it wasn’t your place to tell me.”
“But still, you liked Kate. Jase should’ve left well alone, but you know what he’s like.”
“What happened?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“They went out for about eight months, he taught her to surf and she hung out with us.”
“Hang on. He taught her to surf? She hates all of that. I tried for so long to get her to surf.”
“I know, mate. I don’t know what happened, but after you left, she was different. Her and Jase clicked and they were a great couple. I know you aren’t going to like hearing it, but they were.”
“So if they were so great, what happened?”
“Jase happened. His ex-girlfriend turned up, and instead of dealing with it, he acted like a complete shit and Kate stormed off.”
“So they broke up.”
“Of sorts.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Kate came back that night. I think she forgot her bag when she first stormed off. She noticed Jase was missing and went to find him. She caught him and his ex at it.”
“Stupid bastard,” Fletch spat.
“Trust me. He knows what an idiot he was, and he paid for it. He genuinely did care about her, but she refused to have anything to do with him again. She moved to Bristol and Jase never saw his ex again.”
“Serves him right.”
“Why did you never tell her, Fletch?”
“Tell her what?”
“Oh come on. It is so obvious. The two of you are made for each other. I’ve never seen a couple more in love than the pair of you. Where did it all go wrong?”
“I’ve no idea. I was going to tell her, but every time I tried something would come up and it just wasn’t the right time.”
“And now?”
“And now there’s no going back.”
They fell silent.
“Shane, can I suggest something?”
“What?”
“If you love Jackie, don’t cheat on her. She’s a nice girl and she doesn’t deserve it.”
“I know. But I feel like I’m getting old, and getting married means the death of so much.”
Fletch laughed, “If that’s how you feel, maybe you shouldn’t be getting married!”
Fletch stood and left Shane to ponder that thought. He was glad he knew what happened. He wished he had told Kate how he felt all those years ago. Maybe things would have been different. So now he had a choice: he could either get on with his life and forget about her once and for all, or swallow his pride and go to Bristol when he got back. It was not that far from Cornwall and maybe he could salvage something from all this mess.
~
Kate slept well that night. She had expected to spend the night tossing and turning, thinking about Nikolaos Makris and Angelos Sarkis, instead she had slept soundly. While sitting on the hotel patio eating breakfast the following morning, she thought back to the previous day. She had not expected to find anyone to help her, let alone get such positive news so early on. She had only been on the island a few days and yet she felt more relaxed than she had in years. She even felt happy. She never thought she would be able to say that again.
Michelle was right, though. She needed to think carefully about how to handle visiting Angelos. He would be an old man now, and she did not want to upset him or his family. Until she worked out what to do, she would just enjoy her holiday and do some more exploring. She had waited ten years to find out who her family were, a few more days would not hurt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Zakynthos, Greece, 1943
It took Dionysis almost three hours to return to the cave. By the time he arrived, Elena was frantic. Every noise she heard, be it the breath of the wind, the distant crash of the waves or rustle of an animal in the woods, made her jump. She kept the gun in her hand, not wanting to hold it but finding some kind of comfort in the fact that she had a way of protecting herself if she needed to. As the hours passed and Dionysis did not show, she began to expect the worst. Relief flooded through her as he finally stepped into the cave, looking tired and drawn.
“How is he?”
“Okay,” she reported. “He has been sleeping for most of the time. I think he is in a lot of pain.”
“I have something that will help him.”
Dionysis threw the bag he was carrying to the ground and began to pull out the contents. There were clothes, another blanket, and a small collection of containers filled with water, food and medicine.
“First, we need to remove his uniform. You will have to cut his trousers off, and when you have done that, put them in the bag. They will have to be burned so that there is no evidence of him being here. You must also let me see any personal items you find.”
Elena nodded and set about undressing the man. He was heavy and she found it difficult to move him, but eventually after much perseverance and a little help from Dionysis, the man’s uniform was discarded and his top half had been re-dressed. Elena stepped back to allow Dionysis to treat the man’s leg. It was in a bad way, and there was little he could do other than clean and dress the wound, and strap the leg in the hope that it would be okay. It was too risky to bring a doctor to see him. In the meantime, Elena went through the man’s uniform to check for any personal items. There was nothing at all, not even any papers to say who he was. She then rummaged through the bag and found some medicine that would help the man with the pain. As Dionysis pulled a blanket over the man’s lower half, Elena gently shook him to try to rouse him. Eventually the man opened his eyes and, with a start, tried to sit up, fearful as to where he was and who the strangers were.
It was Dionysis who spoke first. “I am Dionysis. You are English?”
The man nodded, “Yes. I am a pilot in the Royal Air Force. Where am I? The last thing I remember was being hit by enemy fire.”
Dionysis was surprised to learn that the man spoke Greek. “Zakynthos, a small island, just off mainland Greece. You have been very lucky. Other than a broken leg and a few cuts and bruises, you seem to be okay.”
The man nodded. He seemed wary. “Who is she? Your wife?”
Dionysis laughed. “No. She is a friend, but do not worry, she can be trusted.”
“Does she have a name?”
Dionysis shook his head in Elena’s direction. Even though they were allies, passing her real name to the man was too dangerous.
Elena ignored the look, and took the man’s hand in hers. “My name is Elena. We will look after you, but for now you need to take this medicine. It will help with the pain in your leg. It is too dangerous to take you to a doctor and we just have to do what we can to help you heal.”
The man nodded, and did as instructed. She then passed him a flagon of water and some bread and olives, which he accepted gratefully.
“I need to leave now,” Dionysis announced, then motioned to Elena. “I need to talk to you.”
Just inside the mouth of the cave, they huddled in the shadows, whispering.
“Yes. When will you return?”
“When I can. If I am not back by nightfall, you know things have gone wrong and it will be down to you, Elena.”
With those final words, Dionysis slunk away and she was left alone to watch over the Englishman.
~
Pietro leaned against the doorframe of the small house he lived in, smoking a cigarette and gazing at another beautiful day. He had not slept at all; he had paced up and down most of the night filled with worry. Elena had said she would come to him, but she never arrived. He wondered what it was that kept her from him. Maybe her daughter was ill, or she had been caught during curfew and been marched straight back home again? Whatever it was, it did not improve his already fractious mood. Pietro was bored of the war, and missed Italy, especially his beautiful house, with the rolling well-tended garden. He missed his friends, his local bar and his favourite restaurant.
The only thing he did not miss was his wife, the woman he married when he was too young, who had turned his life into a living nightmare. War had come as a relief. Handed an opportunity to run away from her, he had grasped it with both hands, but now that he was here, he missed everything about home, except for her. The only thing he loved about being on the Greek island was Elena. She brightened his day but, deep down, he worried that he loved her more than she did him. He saw how Angelos Sarkis had reacted when Pietro mentioned her. It was obvious that the man was still in love with her, and who could blame him?
Throwing the spent cigarette to the floor, he ground it down with his heel to make sure it was out before slamming the door behind him and walking to the café to get a coffee. He would go to find Elena later, but until then he needed sustenance before reporting for duty.
~
Angelos hated what he was doing. At his father’s insistence he had been spying on neighbours and friends for months now, and he felt like a traitor. When his father first told him what was expected, he was shocked. How could Loukas even consider siding with the enemy? They had stood in the kitchen for an hour arguing about it, with his mother and Maria anxiously looking on. Loukas had been furious and demanded Angelos do what he was told. Angelos would have gladly taken a beating, but he was not prepared for the gun. His father, who had always been a vicious man, was now carrying a weapon, given to him by the people who governed them. It had made Angelos sick to his stomach. To have your own father align with the enemy and turn a gun on you was more than Angelos could bear.
Reluctantly he had given in; he took his father’s orders, and reported back just enough to make his father happy. He took the handbills when they were offered, and told his father, giving a loose enough description so that the offender could have been half of the men on the island. He watched from corners as men painted bright red letters on walls and buildings, and gave the same loose descriptions. He pretended however not to notice when people stole food to give to those more deserving living in poverty in the mountains and villages. He could not bear to think of families like Elena’s starving. He wished he were the one leafleting, daubing graffiti and stealing food. He desperately wanted to, but could not. He was a traitor and he knew that if the locals ever found out, he would be ostracised or, worse, put to death as an example. Angelos hated his life, and wondered what he had done to deserve all of this. None of it was fair. Not fair at all.
~
Elena kissed her mother on the cheek.
“Where have you been?”
“Nowhere.”
“You must have been somewhere. You know I love you Elena, but your daughter will not raise herself. You cannot go running about the island at all hours of the day and night. You are older now, you are a mother, and you have responsibilities.”
Elena slumped into the chair. “I know Mama, but the war has changed things. We must all do things that take us away from our lives, things that are hard to do, but that in the end will give us all a better life.”
“What do you mean by that, Elena?”
“Nothing, Mama.”
“Sometimes the life we want is not the life we receive, my child. You must stay and look after Athena now. Your father is out, and I must go to buy food.”
Sulking in the chair, Elena watched as her mother left, putting her in charge of her daughter. Athena giggled upon seeing her mother and held out her arms. Elena’s heart melted and she smiled. She did love her daughter, but things had become so complicated. Pushing all thoughts from her mind, she concentrated on one thing. Athena. Reaching down, she picked her up, and held her small frame tightly, kissing the top of her head. This was the most important thing right now, holding her daughter and telling her that she loved her.
~
Angelos managed to escape from the house. He had felt stifled. If his father was not getting on top of him, it was his wife. All he wanted was to be alone. His father had gone to see the Italians, and Angelos was not needed this time. He took the opportunity while it presented itself and wandered down the lane to his favourite wood. He had not been there in such a long time. Stepping under the boughs, he noticed it was not as dense as normal. The trees had shed most of their leaves in preparation for the winter ahead. Light peeked through and cast eerie shadows. The crackling of a branch behind him made him whirl around. These days he was frightened of being followed.
“Elena. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Angelos gave a hollow laugh. “Why me? There is nothing left between us, and you are the whore of an Italian soldier now.”
His words hit hard, as if he reached forward and punched her in the stomach, taking the wind out of her. He sounded just like his father. How did he know about Pietro? As if reading her mind, he spoke.
“I was not sure until now. He never actually came out and admitted it, but the implication was there. You yourself just admitted it. How could you, Elena? He is the enemy!”
“I...” she shook her head. The wood was quiet, calm and still, wrapping itself around them, making them feel as though they were the only people left on earth.
“The war has made fools of us all, Angelos.”
“It has. I wish things were different.”
She knew what he meant. She thought back to that day, sitting on the wall, watching him walk towards her. She wished she had just let him walk on by, but she had not. Now they sat on opposite sides of the fence.
“Can I trust you, Angelos?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I need your advice.”
“I am not sure that I am the right person to ask,” he admitted as he motioned for her to sit next to him. She tilted her head, considering for a moment before joining him. It was dangerous to get too close to him. Her heart could not take it.
“I am not the person I was before, Elena. My father is working with the Italians. He and Stelios report to Captain Cipriani every week. They have forced me to work for them and I hate it.” He hung his head in shame.
“Oh, Angelos,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness, and then she gave in and sat next to him, holding him tightly. “Your father has made your life impossible for you.”
Angelos only nodded; he no longer knew what to say.
“What do they make you do, Angelos? Tell me.”
“I am forced to spy for the Italians. I am forced to tell them everything I see and hear. I am forced to turn on my friends, my neighbours and people I have known all my life. I told him no, I told him I did not want to do it and do you know what he did to me, Elena?”
She barely dared to whisper the words, “He beat you? Please do not tell me that he beat Maria?”
“No, thankfully, but it was worse. He held a gun to my head, Elena. He threatened me, in front of my pregnant wife. He told me if I did not do as he asked, he would shoot me
like a dog in the street and leave me to die. He told me if I did not do it, I would be a traitor to the great Axis powers. How could he do that, Elena, to his own son?”
“Oh Angelos, my poor Angelos,” she moaned, and rocked him back and forth allowing him to cry. Her mind was drawn back to his fleeting words. My pregnant wife. It still hurt to think that he now belonged to someone else. They sat for what seemed an age. Elena now knew what she had to do, if only to protect Angelos. She had to go and see Dionysis. She had to continue the good work. She had to put a stop to men like Loukas and Stelios, evil men who did not deserve all they had. She had to make sure that the resistance protected Angelos.
Sitting back, Angelos wiped his face and smiled. Reaching forward, he lifted the silver locket. “You still wear it.”
“Of course I do. You may be married and I may... I will always love you, Angelos Sarkis, even if we can never be together.”
“And I you. Are you happy, Elena?”
“What is happy? We are at war, we are prisoners on the island we so lovingly call home, we have lost our way and our morals. Those who are supposed to love us do not, and I do not see a future for any of us. How can I be happy?”
“You must be careful.”
“I always am.”
“I mean it, Elena. I know you. I know that sooner or later you will join up with the resistance if you have not done so already, and when you do, we are placed on opposite sides. We will be enemies. You have to know how much the Italians, my father and Stelios hate the resistance. They will do anything to see them fail. They will stop at nothing, including making them prisoners…even killing them.”
“You have nothing to worry about, Angelos. You said it yourself, I am the whore of an Italian soldier. I am protected and I have nothing to fear.”
Angelos groaned, “I should never have called you that. I am worse than my father. I am very sorry.”
“Your apology is accepted.” She stood and brushed down her skirt. “I must go.”
“Remember what I said. Whatever side you are on, be careful, Elena Petrakis. The enemy is everywhere and no one can be trusted.”