Black Butterflies (8 page)

Marina has spent too long thinking. Eleni begins to straighten right in front of her. Marina ducks into the nearest lace shop and grabs a piece of lace, which she holds up to the light on pretence of inspecting the detail, neatly obscuring her face. She can see Eleni though the holes. Eleni is walking slowly and searching her pocket for something. She evidently finds what she is looking for and she holds it in front of her and fiddles. It is her mobile phone.

‘She will be calling her lover to say she is here,’ Marina tells the lace.

‘
Pardon?’ asks a little old lady behind the counter.

Marina hadn
’t noticed that the woman had put down the lace she was making on her stool and had come inside.

‘
Beautiful work,’ Marina exclaims, and hitching her handbag further up her arm she exchanges the piece of lace she is holding for another with bigger holes. Eleni has stopped walking and is standing outside the shop with her phone to her ear.

Marina hopes she will speak his name, and she moves towards the door with her lace disguise, to eavesdrop.

A noise from Marina’s handbag startles her and she tells it to hush, hugging her bag to her chest with the lace over it, and retreating to the furthest corner of the shop with her back to the door. She scrabbles in her bag. The noise is coming from the mobile phone Artemis gave her. ‘For emergencies, Mum, you never know.’

She looks at the phone blankly. The little old lady watches her.

‘I don’t know how to answer it! I never use it,’ she whispers to the widow clad in black. She feels sure that Eleni will have heard the noise and will spot her at any moment. Damn the noise it is making.

The old lady leans over and presses a button with a little green phone on it and says,
‘Talk.’

Marina puts the phone to her ear and tentatively answers,
‘Hello?’

‘
Mum? Mum, why are you whispering?’

‘
Eleni?’ she turns to the door where Eleni is still standing, phone to her ear, with her back to Marina.

‘
Mum, can you hear me? I have given notice on my flat in Piraeus but I have to wait till the first of the month to move in to the place on the island. They’ve given me a week off for the move so I’m coming home for a couple of days.’

Marina turns and stares at the back of Eleni
’s head. Her eyes widen.

‘
But you said you weren’t moving for three months!’

‘
They’ve brought it forward. I have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Marina turns, her mouth hanging slightly open, and watches Eleni pocket her phone and walk off up the lane, inland.

‘You finished talking?’ the old lady asks. Marina nods, and the old lady reaches across and presses a red button on the phone.

‘
That will be five euros,’ she says.

‘
For what?’ Marina asks, looking at her phone. The widow points to the scrunched piece of lace Marina has been balling in her free hand. Marina is surprised to see it there. She apologises for the lace and thanks the woman for her help at the same time, whilst she fishes in her bag to pay, and hurries from the shop down to the harbour front.

The donkey man she met when she first arrived waves to her cheerfully. The hair he pulls across his bald head is whipping about in all directions in the wind. She hurries past, distracted, to the nearest taxi boat.

‘Ah ha! It is the lady who owes me a Greek dance halfway across the water. Hello, hello again.’ He offers his hand to shake, whereupon he takes hers and puts it to his lips and kisses it. Marina thinks this is a bit smooth but smiles, even though she is in a hurry.

‘
Please can you take me to the little harbour and then across to the mainland?’

‘
For you, pretty lady …’ he begins, but she has already jumped on board. He stands looking down at her.

‘
Come on. Come on.’ Marina feels flustered. She has to get home before Eleni, or Costas might happily tell her she is on the island and then there would be explaining to do. The threads she is hanging on by are so tentative. She wipes away a tear at the thought.

‘
But lady …’

‘
Please just take me to the little harbour. I am in a hurry.’

The man seems very relaxed and amused.
‘I can take you to the little …’ The roar of the engine drowns the rest of his sentence. He is smiling as he talks, and smoothing his hair back with his free hand.

The little boat neatly backs out between the ever increasing (it seems to Marina) tally of yachts and boats. He swings the vessel round in the mouth of the inlet and powers off to the little harbour. The water seems very choppy, and a quantity of it makes its way inside the boat. The journey is not long.

Marina is already on her feet before the rocking has ceased and clambers up the steps before the man has risen from his bouncy bucket seat. She leaps with more agility than she expects onto shore and shouts ‘Wait!’ to the captain, who smiles and salutes.

Marina walks as briskly as she can to Zoe
’s. She pulls her holdall from under the bed, makes a last check around the room and closes the door behind her.

Zoe is happy for the cash and delighted that Marina says she will be returning in a few days. Bobby keeps trying to attract her attention, mouthing
‘What is going on?’, but Marina leaves before she can form a reply.

Going back to the little harbour is easy, the gentle slope in her favour. With a sigh of relief she sees the taxi boat is still waiting.

‘Thank you for waiting. To the mainland, let’s go!’ Marina steps into the rocking craft.

‘
Lady, I would love to take you, but as I said there is an
Apagoreftiko
!’

‘
What? What do you mean? I need to go across! What’s an
Apagoreftiko
?’

‘
Ah, you see, the wind. It has grown too strong. The port police, they say it is dangerously strong and they forbid all boats to leave the port. I can take you from the little port to the main port but I cannot take you out across open water. No one can leave. It is not allowed, it is an
Apagoreftiko
.’

Marina
’s adrenaline fever dissipates. She blows air through buzzing lips, deflating like a balloon. She rolls her weight forward and allows the man to help her onto the dock. She looks down into the clear water. She can see the bottom, she can see down to little fish swimming in the shade cast by the blue and white boat. On the surface a reflection of colours, unbroken on the harbour’s still water, the vessel’s hull clean and clear in its mirror image. The rope the man is holding sinks in an arch into the water and out again to the boat, tiny ripples around where it leaves the water to the prow.

‘Hey, lady, you look sad. Do you dislike the island so much?’ There is a bench by the edge of the harbour and he sits on it still holding the rope. He pats the bench next to him in invitation. Marina accepts and sits down.

‘
Do you have children?’ She feels defeated.

The man
’s head rolls back with a loud ‘Ha ha!’ It sounds slightly bitter.

‘
Lady, I have just found the right girl for me, just as the world goes crazy. We would love to get married and have children but we have no steady future. The world is an unsure place for young people today.’

‘
What about your boat?’ It occurs to Marina that if she cannot leave, neither can Eleni, and this gives her hope.

‘
The owner, a friend of mine, will be back for it at the end of the year and then …’

‘
And then?’ Marina asks. Eleni might catch the first boat in the morning, and then a bus. If Marina takes a taxi boat at first light and drives directly she is sure to get home before her. She begins to relax, enjoying the sheltered corner they have found.

‘
And then who knows, we may have to leave the island. Go to Athens, but what would I do there?’

‘
Where are your parents?’

‘
They live on the hill behind us.’ He gestures with his thumb. ‘They are farmers.’

‘
Can you not work with them? You will inherit the farm?’ Marina wonders how early she should set out in the morning.

‘
The farm is leased, they do not own it. When they die the lease will expire. It is only small, enough for them, but it is not a future for me.’

‘
That’s a shame.’ She feels for the man. All this uncertainty, and still he smiles and is friendly and kind. There is no hurry for Marina now; she has time on her hands. The man has no work, the wind is too strong. They sit in an agreeable silence watching the waves whip up outside the little harbour. Where they sit is sheltered. They watch a dog wander around the boats pulled up on the shingle. It sniffs at the prow of one boat and is surprised by a cat that is lazing in the sun. The cat leaps up on all fours and fluffs out its tail to a ridiculous size and lashes at the dog, which whimpers and backs off. Marina and the man laugh, and they continue to sit. After a while he points out a starfish to her. A while after that she pats him farewell on the knee as she stands and she wanders back to Zoe’s.

Marina slips the key under Zoe
’s door. It is too early to wake her.

The taxi boat is waiting in the little harbour as she has arranged. The captain looks sleepy, but his shirt is ironed and today he has polished grey leather shoes with quite pointed toes. To Marina they look modern, but she suspects by the shine of the polish that he has had them for some time.

‘Good morning, my lovely lady friend.’ He smiles and offers his hand for her to board.

‘
Good morning, captain. I am glad the wind has died down.’

‘
Me too. Today I will be busy taking all the stuck people to where they want to be.’

He slides into his leather armchair, starts the engine, and then turns to give Marina a curious smile before he switches on the radio mounted in a plywood box, and Greek music fills the cabin. Marina laughs and wags a finger at him to let him know she will still not dance with him. He dances by himself all the way across, one hand on the wheel.

When he pulls alongside the pier at the mainland and throws a rope over the bollard, the music is still playing. He takes Marina’s bag on shore, and as she begins to climb off the boat he spreads his arms horizontally and with an ‘
Opa
’ he begins to dance, circling Marina as she reaches for her bag.

‘
One last dance to remember me by?’ he teases Marina.

‘
For goodness’ sake, I am old enough to be your mum, and besides I will be back in a day or two.’

‘
Lady, you will dance with me at my wedding, for then you will not be able to say no to me and my bride!’ He winks at her, jumps aboard, and is off.

Marina watches him go, thinking what a pleasant man he is. She looks across to the island and tries to pictu
re what his fiancée will look like. Far across the water, the hydrofoil pulls out of the harbour.

‘
Panayia mou! Eleni could be on that.’ She scrabbles for her car keys.

She thanks God that the car starts first time, and she heads over the hills for home.

The road is narrow and winding, over the mountains and through olive groves, and it takes a long time. As she approaches the village her stomach begins to rumble. She has had no breakfast. Never mind, it is only another five or six kilometres. She rounds a bend with thoughts of fresh bread, olive oil, and oregano ...

A herd of goats blocks the road ahead. Marina slows and tries to edge past but there are too many of them, she will have to wait. She looks around for the goat herder and his dog but they are nowhere to be seen. The goats amble at a lazy pace, stopping to eat from a bush here, standing still for no apparent reason there, and eyeing her blankly. Marina figures that they are being taken either from pasture or to it. Either way, they will turn off the road soon.

But they continue on the road, and Marina glances anxiously at the clock in the car. Time is passing and the goats are showing no signs of concluding their stately meanderings. Marina hoots her horn. The goats at the back turn to look at her and then continue on their way unperturbed. Marina revs the engine and drives as close as she dares to their tails. The ones nearest her skit and jump, but the herd still continues its leisurely pace, stopping for a bite to eat at will.

At this rate Eleni
’s bus will be in the village before her. She edges even closer to the goats and slowly they begin to part. The car crawls forward into the sea of white, black and tan. The goats nearer the front have long curling horns. Marina decides that her haste is more important than the car’s paintwork. She revs and honks and finally breaks free in front of the bleating tide.

She increases the pressure on the accelerator and takes off, but behind the sweet papers and the packets of cable ties on her dashboard there is a red light. She sweeps the wrappers onto the floor and throws the cable ties in the back. The dial indicates that the engine is overheating. Crawling at a snail’s pace through the goat herd was too much for the old car. The indicator is on the edge of the red section. Marina changes up a gear, hoping that this will ease the pressure on the engine and the speed will cool everything down, but the needle goes even higher.

She has gone all of two or three hundred metres ahead of the goats, but reluctantly she is forced to pull over. She releases the bonnet catch and gets out. The day is hot but the heat emanating from under the bonnet is immediately apparent. She opens it up and clicks the support bar to hold it. The temperature of the engine is fearsome to Marina
’s hands, which she waves over it. She has no idea what to do. The radiator cap is too hot to touch. She must only be about four or five kilometres away from the village. Nevertheless, four kilometres will take her over an hour to walk. Maybe there is a more direct route through the orchards.

The sound of goat bells tells her they have caught up and are just behind her around the last corner. The clonking of different pitched bells accompanying the bleating is normally a sound she likes, but today it is not welcome. A dog is the first to be seen and then the herdsman. Marina wonders where they have appeared from. His knees bend out sideways and his trousers are held up with string. His hair is greased back. He leans his weight with each step on the crook he holds. Marina vaguely recognises him from the next village. One of the Malakopoulos family, perhaps.

He slows his very steady pace as he comes alongside her. He drawls out a lazy long ‘hello’. Marina replies automatically, but then asks if there is a way to her village directly through the fields.

‘
You want to go to the village, you say? Well …’ He considers at length. ‘If I were going to the village, I wouldn’t start from here. No, you’d be better off starting away over that hill there.’

Marina is not in the mood for banter. She grabs her bag from the car and strides off along the road. The goats behind her turn in to a narrow lane and the sound of their bells diminishes until all she can hear are the birds in the bushes on either side of the road. She walks faster.

She wonders if Costas will have the sense not to tell Eleni where she has been. Maybe the bus takes longer than she thinks. If it goes to all the little villages on the way maybe she still has time, if she hurries.

There is a clattering sound behind her and a hoot. She turns to see a tractor. Maybe she can catch a lift. She waves for it to stop, but as it draws near she sees it is the goat herder driving. He is grinning mischievously.

He points, with his thumb, to the flat-back trailer his tractor is pulling. Marina smiles, and using the rim of one of the tyres climbs up and sits in the middle with her legs straight out in front of her. There is a strong smell of goat and little pellets of goat poo are rolling around on the surface of the trailer.

The driver sets the tractor in motion, and as soon as they have gained some speed Marina finds the movement is bouncing her slowly towards the back of the trailer, where she is in danger of falling off. There is nothing to hold on to but the edge. She grips this with one hand and, with her arm through the handle of her bag, pushes the tips of the fingers of her other hand in a crack in the wooden boards. She is just beginning to feeling stable when the herdsman increases the speed and the trailer begins to bounce along the road as it hits pebbles and rocks and potholes.

To Marina’s anguish, the bouncing is so violent that it is transferred through her body. She can feel every ounce of her that is not muscle or bone being quivered like a jelly. Worst of all, her support bra’s elasticity is giving its contents an animated life of their own. She prises her fingers from the crack in the board and folds her arm across her chest, which gives her immediate relief from the chafing. But she begins a rather rapid traverse towards the back edge and she is forced to give herself up to the movement, no matter how uncomfortable it is, and hold on for dear life.

Marina tries to look ahead to see how far they have to go. The tractor has round reversing mirrors and it is in one of these that she can see the driver looking at her predicament with amusement. Marina tries to turn her back to him, which she eventually manages, and just as she thinks they are making good progress he stops suddenly, splaying her supine.

‘I’ll be going down this track then,’ he shouts over the tractor engine.

Marina wriggles to the edge of the trailer and slides herself off to the ground. The solidity of the earth is most welcome. The man drives off without even a wave and Marina wishes him good riddance. She straightens her skirt and smooths her blouse. Parts of her feel a bit sore. Nevertheless, she sets off at a brisk pace and within five minutes she is on the main road into the village. Just in sight of the square she hears a low engine noise behind her which, as she turns, she can see is the bus coming into the village.

Marina breaks into a trot, a very unfamiliar activity. She takes small steps very rapidly and holds her bag in both hands to stop it swinging too wildly. The bus overtakes her and pulls up at the square in front of her, and people begin to get off. Marina darts into the road behind the bus as she sees Eleni climb off and go round to the luggage compartment. As Marina passes the bus the luggage compartment doors have been opened on both sides and Marina can see Eleni’s legs on the other side of the bus as she waits for her bag. She recognises Eleni’s luggage. On her side of the bus it is the nearest bag to her; on Eleni’s side it will be the last to be reached. Marina reaches for the bag and pulls it around the central pillar, hoping to make its extraction from Eleni’s side just that bit more time-consuming.

She tries running again, and holding her bag up to hide her face she darts in front of the bus across the road that enters the square from the left, and into her shop on the far corner.

‘I have not been away. I have been here all the time,’ she hisses at a very surprised Costas.

‘
Go! Go!’ she adds, and Costas lazily stands and begins to stretch. ‘No time for that, go through the house.’ She pushes him in the small of the back out into the courtyard that connects her house to the shop. As the door swings shut behind him she sits solidly in her chair behind the counter and picks up the order book and a pen. Putting the end of the pen in her mouth she tries to assume the appearance of having been there for hours.

‘
Mum.’

‘
Oh – hi, Eleni, is the bus late? I have been waiting ages.’

‘
How can you have been waiting ages when you didn’t know what time to expect me and you sit here all day anyway?’ She leans over the counter to kiss her mother on each cheek, an all but formal greeting, no warmth. ‘And why do you smell of goats?’

Marina realises that in her hasty dismissing of Costas she now has to sit in the shop all day and will not get to spend any time with Eleni unless she will sit in the shop with her, something she hasn
’t done since she was about fifteen. Marina doesn’t bother to ask.

Eleni wheels her bag out of the door into the courtyard towards the house, and that is all Marina sees of her that day. She closes the shop at midnight and goes through to the house where Eleni is asleep on the sofa.

Marina stands and stares, takes her in, absorbs all she can. She is so tiny, like a bird, one leg curled under her, the other extended the length of the sofa, one arm bent under her head, the other dangling. Her jeans are slightly too big and her hair is shiny and smooth, she must have just washed it. It falls over her face, flecks of gold in the deep chestnut.

Marina makes her way towards her room but pauses to strokes Eleni
’s hair softly, her feelings heightening in the action that has been denied her for years. All her rejected love bubbles to the surface. She wants to wrap her arms around her daughter, she wants her to be a baby again so she can scoop her up and take all her fears and anger away for her. Her love seems bottomless. Tears spill over.

‘
I love you no matter how angry you get,’ she whispers, and Eleni sleeps peacefully on.

Eleni has moved sometime in the night. Marina passes her room on her way to the courtyard. The door is open and Eleni has just flopped on top of the bed fully dressed. At this early hour there is a chill in the air and she is curled into a ball. Marina tiptoes across the wooden boards, takes a blanket from the chest under the window and arranges it over her sleeping princess. She is about to stroke her hair but retracts her hand as the dreamer turns.

In the shop most of her customers welcome her back but Marina insists she has not been anywhere, just spring-cleaning her home. Some of the women invite her to their houses to do the same, suggesting that they will run the shop in exchange. Marina loves to laugh and has a fun morning. Business grows slack towards midday and Marina has time to think.

All she can focus on is that it is imperative to stop Eleni’s relationship if it is with whom it might be. The pain of being on the island herself when she was young floods back. If only she had the name of the family. She considers the option of telling all she knows, but they are words she cannot speak, pain she cannot face. But could she face it for the sake of her daughter’s happiness? Yes, she could. But if she is wrong and Eleni’s lover is from another family, which is highly likely, then the words she speaks may create the final severing rift and then Eleni may be gone.

No, she is right in what she is doing. She must find out quietly who he is, and only if it is who she fears will she tell Eleni everything. Then she must tell all, and her own happiness will be secondary, even if it causes a rift that never heals. But if it is not that person, then she can quietly bow out and hope that time will bring her and her beloved daughter back together again. Maybe grandchildren will help? When Eleni understands what it is to be a mother, and Marina can show how much she cares through her love of the grandchildren, maybe then they can reach each other.