Among the Olive Groves Read online

  “I will not tell you again, boy,” the elder man snarled.

  Reluctantly, Angelos obeyed and ran to huddle in the doorway with his mother, watching as the scene unfolded.

  “Whores are not welcome on my land. Stay away from my son!”

  “I am not a whore, Sir. My name is Elena, but you already know that. I love your son very much. We are having a baby. Your grandchild. You should be very happy for us.” She was defiant, and stood her ground with her hands on her hips, staring Loukas down. Angelos had never seen anyone stand up to his father before and he loved her even more for it. He continued to watch as his father stepped forward, almost nose-to-nose with her. “Your bastard is no grandchild of mine. I have heard all about your many dalliances. God knows what kind of disease Angelos has caught from you.”

  “Your information is wrong, Loukas Sarkis. That story was made up by a lecherous man who likes to fuck young girls instead of his wife!”

  “Gypsy language and lies. I expect nothing more from your kind! You will ask nothing more of my son or of this family. You are dead to us, peasant. Now get out of my sight!” With a forceful shove, he pushed Elena backwards and she fell hard, landing on the ground with a thud. Angelos cried out for her. He wanted to run to her, embrace her, but knew it was more than his life was worth. Loukas marched up to his son and dragged him inside where punishment awaited him. Angelos had no choice but to leave his one true love and their unborn child floundering in the dust, bruised, humiliated and brokenhearted.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Zakynthos, Greece, 1940

  Angelos’s life carried on, but he felt as though time were standing still. He rose each day, had breakfast and climbed into the cart to make his way to wherever he was needed on the estate, and worked until he could barely stand. He hated working for his father. Loukas treated him worse than the locals, but he never argued back, since he was too scared. Angelos had learned his lesson. As Elena had been picking herself up and dusting herself off after the confrontation, Loukas had punished his son severely. In a blind rage, Loukas had used his fists and his boot and by the time he had finished, Angelos was a weeping bloodied mess on the floor. His mother had spent more than an hour bathing his cuts and trying to clean him up.

  Once Loukas had calmed down, he returned and informed Angelos that he would not leave his father’s side for the foreseeable future. Angelos never had a chance to go and find Elena even if he wanted to. He did hear from one of the farm labourers that she was well and suffered no ill affects from Loukas’s rough treatment. While that brought him relief, he missed her so much. He wanted to see her beautiful eyes, to hold her, kiss her, hear her sing, but it was impossible. Their relationship was dead and he would never see her again.

  The war in Europe was gaining pace and islanders feared it was only a matter of time before they were invaded. The only person who was not scared was Loukas. The thought of war thrilled him. He had lived through the Great War and he was of the opinion that war made a man of you and showed you the true meaning of life. Angelos disagreed with him, although he never actually voiced his disagreement. He thought war was callous and hurtful. Thousands of people had their world turned upside down and were being dictated to by a man with a frightening vision. A vision that came at a price, and that price was death, destruction and tyranny. Every day, Angelos prayed for the war to end but his prayers remained unanswered.

  Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and Angelos’s repetitive days became akin to boredom. He hated the estate, hated his father’s vision of what he, Angelos, should be, and hated having to toil on the land every day with nothing else to do in his life. Elena had become a thing of the past, and he missed her. As each day passed, his memory of her faded slightly and his hatred of his father grew a little more. He felt like a prisoner in his own home. If it were not for the thought of the war scaring him so much, he would have joined up and gone to fight, but he did not. That would be running away and he knew it would hurt Elena too much, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

  One day a young boy arrived at the house: Elena’s younger brother. He hammered loudly on the door and asked for Angelos. Loukas had already left for the day and Angelos had been instructed to remain with his mother and help her out with some odd jobs round the house. Glancing nervously at Pigi, the boy pulled at Angelos’s arm.

  “You have to come quick, Angelos. Elena needs you. The baby is coming!”

  Angelos did not know what to do for the best. His mother was shaking her head furiously, trying to dissuade him from betraying Loukas again. Angelos did not want to disobey his mother, nor did he want to leave her to his father’s mercy, but Elena was giving birth to his child. She needed him.

  “I am sorry, Mother, but I have to go.”

  Turning his back on her, he followed Georgios Petrakis to their village in the mountains. At the small house with pots of brightly coloured bougainvillea sitting outside, Angelos waited for what seemed an eternity. He heard the painful screams of the woman he loved more than life itself, and prayed that mother and baby would come through the ordeal unscathed and healthy. Angelos paced for hours. He was desperate to go inside and see her, but the house was too small and cramped and her parents would not allow it. As the darkness crept in and stars began to appear overhead, an uneasy silence fell, punctuated moments later by a healthy caterwauling. Angelos felt tears of relief fall from his eyes. His baby was born.

  A while later, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Angelos. You may come in now.”

  He followed Elena’s father into the shabby, small house and into the room where Elena lay, looking exhausted. Her face was red and covered in sweat from her exertion. In her arms lay a small snuffling bundle. As Angelos approached and sat on the bed, he smiled. He had missed Elena so very much, and despite her lengthy ordeal, she looked more beautiful than ever.

  “We have a daughter, Angelos,” she whispered, a contented smile passing across her face.

  “A daughter?” he gasped in awe.

  “Yes. Look, she is beautiful.”

  Angelos leaned in and gazed at the small child they had created, half his, half Elena’s and perfect in every way. She was a pretty little thing, just like her mother, and he sat on the edge of the bed and cried tears of joy.

  “What will you call her?” he asked a few minutes later, once the emotion subsided.

  “I like Athena. She is the Greek goddess of wisdom, courage and inspiration.”

  “Athena. I like that very much.”

  “I am glad. I think it suits her.”

  “Me, too.”

  Angelos and Elena sat in silence, comfortable in each other’s presence, all the hurt and anguish suffered at the hands of Loukas behind them. There in that room, in that small fraction of time, they were a family, bound to each other for all eternity, but their happiness was short-lived. As Angelos cradled his daughter in his arms, raised voices and a scuffle came from outside. The sounds grew louder and suddenly, without warning, Loukas burst into the room followed by Elena’s father. Hurriedly, Angelos passed Athena back to her mother so that he could face his father. It did not matter what Loukas did to him now. His daughter had been born happy and healthy and that was all that mattered.

  “I am sorry, Angelos,” Elena’s father said.

  “Do not apologise for me, Petrakis,” Loukas said. “You do not learn, do you Angelos.”

  Loukas grabbed his son’s arm and dragged him from the room. All Elena’s mother could do was comfort her daughter as the men departed. Outside, under the velvety blackness of night, Loukas hissed and spat at Angelos like an angry cat. He called him ungrateful, spoilt, a liar and untrustworthy. Angelos had no words; he no longer cared what his father thought. He just let Loukas yell, replacing harsh words with the pleasant memories of Elena and his pretty daughter to circle his brain. Loukas continued yelling as they made their way home, but Angelos did not hear him. He had brought life into the world, a gorgeous baby girl, and he was so very pro
ud of that.

  ~

  Loukas Sarkis’s plan had been set in motion. He realised the relationship between his son and the peasant was just too strong. Even without the child, he had seen the bond between them. It was unlike any he had ever seen before. Since the arrival of the child, it did not matter what he did, his son remained happy and content. Loukas gave up trying to scare him or beat him. Angelos just took it, letting the bruises and cuts heal, while carrying on as normal.

  Loukas needed to get rid of the girl and the child. Needed them out of his life. The easy solution would have been to send his son to fight, but he refused to send his only son and only heir to be cut down in his prime. Angelos was too valuable to the continuation of the family and the business.

  In Zakynthos Town, he had met with the town officials a few times and remembered the conversation with Stelios Makris about his daughter, Maria. Loukas had been frank talking to Stelios. He was honest about the peasant and child, yet Stelios did not bat an eyelid. Many on the island had already heard, since they made it their business to know Loukas’s business. His family had lived on the island for the longest, and was one of the richest.

  Stelios was very aware that his daughter was no prize catch, and he had been worried what he was going to do about marrying her off. When Loukas suggested a match with his own son, all his dreams came true. His daughter Maria becoming a Sarkis was beyond his wildest dreams. He knew the Sarkis boy would never truly love his daughter the way some lowly fisherman may have, but it was not about love. It was about the marrying together of two important families and, as far as Stelios was concerned, he was very happy to accept Loukas’s offer.

  Loukas and Stelios shook on it and agreed that Maria would become Angelos’s wife later that year. Loukas was overjoyed. Once the pair was introduced, the incident with the peasant and her bastard child would be behind them and the Sarkis name would be fully restored. He was very happy with his plan. One way or another he would split Angelos and Elena up for good, even if it killed him.

  ~

  As summer turned to autumn, the war still raged. From a distance, Angelos watched his daughter grow and Georgios did his best to keep Angelos informed on her progress, but Loukas kept an even closer eye on his son than before. Angelos felt stifled, like he was drowning, and wished his father would back off and let him live his life the way he wanted. He again considered signing up to the army, but knew in his heart of hearts that he could not bear to be parted from Elena and Athena, despite not seeing them.

  Harvest arrived again and everyone pulled together. The olives fell from the trees in droves and were packed up ready to be sold on. Angelos’s body ached from all the hard work, but it gave him time to think and enjoy being outside.

  One day as he was directing some of the local workers, he lifted his head as though he knew someone was watching him. He heard Athena gurgle before he saw them and he ran to the boundary wall to greet them.

  “You are taking a huge risk coming here,” he said, smiling at Elena. She was looking so much healthier than the last time he saw her. Her hair was shiny and tied back under her favourite scarf. Her eyes sparkled, the deep green taking his breath away, and her face had colour. He was pleased to see it.

  “I saw Loukas leave just now and I overheard him say he would not be back for a few hours. I thought we could spend some time together?” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

  Angelos groaned, wanting nothing more than to spend a few hours with Elena and his daughter. But if Loukas found out, he would be in so much trouble. Harvest was the busiest time of the year.

  “If you do not want to, Angelos, then fine. We will see you another time, when it is more convenient to you and your damn family!” Elena snapped. She turned and began to walk away.

  “Wait! Give me two minutes.” Angelos ran back into the groves and Elena smiled to herself. True to his word, Angelos appeared a few minutes later.

  “I can give you one hour Elena, but no more.”

  “I will settle for that.”

  They walked away from the groves, taking the rough pathway down the hill, away from people, the road and the chance of being caught. They both knew they were playing a dangerous game but neither cared. They were still too much in love.

  Sitting under a tree overlooking their favourite bay, they lay Athena on a blanket between them. Angelos held Elena’s hand and told her how much he missed her and how sorry he was for everything that had happened. Elena responded by leaning in and kissing him lightly on the lips. Hungry and desperate to hold her once more, Angelos refused to let her go and kissed her passionately.

  “I love you, Angelos Sarkis.”

  “I love you too, both of you,” he said as he stroked his daughter’s face. She was the spitting image of her mother and Angelos was glad. It meant that she would grow into a very beautiful woman.

  “How are you, Angelos?”

  “Me? I am okay.”

  “Honestly? I know he treats you badly. Why do you not leave home?”

  “I have nowhere to go Elena.”

  “You could come and live with us.”

  Angelos laughed. “There is no way I could live with you, Elena! There is not enough room for your family as it is, even less now that Athena has been born.”

  Elena looked disappointed, and Angelos kissed her gently on the cheek. “I would give anything to be with you both as a proper family, but I have no way of supporting us. I need to stay at home for now. We will be together soon, Elena. I promise, but let me do it properly.”

  Elena was resigned. “Okay. Does he still beat you, Angelos?”

  “Why do you want to know?” Angelos was ashamed. He was twenty-two years old and yet he let his father rule him with a rod of iron and thrash him senseless when the mood took him. Angelos really wished he could escape his poor existence, but Greek tradition was too strong. He had been brought up to live under his father’s roof, in the way his father chose. He was a Sarkis and his rightful place was living with his parents, learning the family business so that he could one day inherit it and run it.

  “Not so much anymore,” he lied.

  “That is good. I worry about you.”

  All too soon, their hour was up and they bade each other goodbye. Angelos was insistent that Elena take the long way around, in case his father suddenly reappeared. Sneaking back into the groves, he was thankful that his disappearance was not noticed and he carried on with his work as normal.

  ~

  Angelos awoke to a lot of noise in the house. It was a Sunday and it should have been a day for them to rest. Groaning, he rose from bed and pulled back the thin drape that covered the window.

  “Ah my son, you are awake.”

  Angelos turned to see Pigi standing in the doorway with a smile on her face. He rarely saw her smile and it made him happy.

  “Morning, Mother. What is all the noise about?”

  “They are getting ready for the celebrations, Angelos. It is going to be such a happy day.”

  “It is? What is happening today?”

  “Your wedding, my son.” She laid some trousers, a shirt and a jacket of his father’s on his bed. “Get yourself ready, she will be here in an hour!”

  Standing alone, Angelos pinched himself. Was he dreaming? Had his father finally caved in? He must have! Filled with excitement, Angelos washed himself and changed into the suit. It was a little long in the legs but it did not matter. He was getting married! His father had finally given in and realised how much he loved Elena.

  His mother appeared with a tray of food and set it on the side.

  “You must eat; you have a long day ahead of you. My son is getting married! You make me so very happy, Angelos.”

  Angelos sat and ate as his mother fussed around him. When he finished the last dregs of coffee, she took the tray and instructed him to finish getting ready.

  Sitting on the bed, Angelos let his mind wander. What would Elena be wearing? Would she have flowers in her hair? Would Athena,
their daughter, be there too? The excitement built in him and he was barely able to contain himself.

  The door opened again and Pigi smiled.

  “It is time.”

  Grinning from ear to ear, Angelos walked downstairs and out into the bright sunshine. Loukas had arranged for the ceremony to take place at the house. At first, Angelos could only see a throng of people, his guests. His father stepped up to him and motioned for Pigi to go sit. She kissed Angelos before obeying her husband.

  As they walked forward, the priest came into view. Standing at the front was a woman Angelos had never seen before. She was wearing a pretty dress and held a bouquet of flowers.

  “Who is that?” he whispered to Loukas.

  “Maria Makris, your wife-to-be. Now smile. It is supposed to be a happy day,” Loukas whispered menacingly.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Bristol, England, 2001

  Staring out of the window, Kate watched as the skies of Bristol turned a miserable slate grey. Heavy rain-filled clouds scudded overhead, spilling their load, soaking everything in sight. The pavement and road glistened, slick with water, and gutters filled becoming mini rivers. It had been a miserable spring and she hoped summer would bring better weather.

  “So Kate, what are your thoughts?”

  Turning her attention back to the meeting, Kate took in the eager faces around the table. Remembering that she was the boss, she swung back into work mode. “I completely agree, a new campaign would be good idea. The company is doing well but it’s always good to offer something new that will give us an edge. Let’s get started on it this week, and we’ll meet again next week to go through ideas. Right, then. Meeting over, let’s get back to work.”

  Everyone stood, and shuffled from the room, talking amongst themselves.

  “Are you okay, Kate?” her assistant asked, while tidying up the mess left by the others.