The Bamboo Mirror (2 page)

It was nearly a year since she’d been back, but this time she was home for good. Maria cast a brief look around the familiar airport, collected her heavy bulging suitcase from the Cyprus Airways carousel and made her way outside. There was a considerable crowd waiting at the gate and she felt a moment’s panic before she remembered where her aunt said her cousin would meet her.

‘Near the car-hire desks at the back of the hall, it’ll be less crowded there.’ She’d said on the telephone just before Maria had boarded her flight home from London. So where was he?

Maria wheeled her bag over to an empty spot and checked her mobile, it was definitely working. Already she felt homesick for her flat back in the East End; she’d left so many friends back there. It was bad enough having to come home for her parents’ funeral, but to say goodbye to the last fourteen years was almost more than she could bear.

‘Maria?’

Turning she met the eyes of a tall thin man standing next to her. With a small hesitant smile he repeated her name.

‘Yes. It’s Yiannis isn’t it? I remember you from junior school. How are you? Still working at the hotel down in Limassol?’

Bending down, he picked up her suitcase before replying. ‘Yes and no. I’ve recently moved to The Four Seasons, they pay much better.’

As always, money was the key factor here.

During the journey to Maria’s birthplace, Yiannis filled her in on family news. Within minutes her head was full of so many births, deaths and marriages that Maria wondered how on earth she was going to remember half of it. What did it all matter anyway?

She turned to look out of the car window at the passing scenery, leaning her forehead against the cool glass. Then she made a rapid decision to change her initial plans. She hardly knew any of the extended family here, so after a respectable amount of time she’d make arrangements to sell the family home and return to where she felt she really belonged. She’d never be missed and the small house would probably never feel like home to her. Put it on the market, sell it for a cheap price and get the hell out of here.

                                                            ~~~~~

The funeral over, Maria wandered round the house aimlessly. Tomorrow she had an appointment with the lawyer to sort out her parents’ will. She didn’t expect any bother as she was their only child and looking at the simply furnished two-bedroomed village house, neither was she expecting any money.

She sighed. She wished her boyfriend, Ferdi could have accompanied her. But that too would have been impossible as he was Turkish and she was Greek-Cypriot. The two countries were not what she would have called the best of friends. She smiled to herself, he was damn good in bed though and she knew she was going to miss his strong arms around her tonight. If only he’d pop that question to her that she’d been waiting for, for oh so long.

                                                            ~~~~~

‘So, Miss Maria there you have it.’ The fat little lawyer sat back heavily in his chair and pushed his glasses into position on his perspiring nose. ‘You are a very rich young lady. Rich and very fortunate I would say.’

Maria’s mind was spinning. For the first time since her parents’ fatal car accident, when her Papa’s old pick-up truck had driven into an articulated lorry, she felt alive. How on earth had they managed to accumulate so much cash? As she thought about the mean little dwelling where her arthritic mother had eked out her life, she felt a pang of love for her and a welling-up of resentment towards her father. Why if they had saved all this couldn’t they have spent some of it on some home comforts and small luxuries? She would much rather have had them safe and well driving around in a new car than be landed with a fortune as she was now. She would never understand how the older generations reasoned.

Walking away from the lawyer’s office she had a sudden whim. Just because her father wouldn’t spend money on a new car, didn’t mean she couldn’t. The automatic doors leading into the Mercedes-Benz showrooms opened and without a moment’s hesitation she walked in.

                                                            ~~~~~

With the wind rifling through her hair Maria felt a lifting of her mood. She’d chosen a smart two-seater coupe in red – her favourite colour, and there was just enough room in the fair sized boot to accommodate the dozen or so bags of shopping.

She laughed to herself. If only they could see me in London right now! Wouldn’t they be surprised? No more shelf stacking in Sainsbury’s for her. She had enough money to live a life of luxury without having to earn her keep for as long as she lived. Wahoo!

She cut her speed down by a few kilometres an hour – she didn’t want to end up like her parents – and picked up her mobile as it rang.

‘Ferdi! Hi! No I’m fine, no really I am. I’ve sorted through Mum and Dad’s things, not that there was much. When, sorry I missed that? When am I planning on coming home?’ She did a rapid calculation. She was having far more fun than she’d thought she would and didn’t want to think about returning home just yet. Besides, London had been freezing cold and wet when she’d left. She decided not to tell him about her parents’ will. Some other time she might let him in on the secret.

‘I have some things to finalise here. I want to put the house on the market, and that will take time to sort out. Yes I miss you heaps. OK, I understand you gotta go.  Bye, love you too.’

She killed the connection. Now why did she say that? Why didn’t she mention the money and her little shopping spree?

                                                            ~~~~~

It was two months since Maria had arrived back in Cyprus and she’d settled down in the village more easily than she had first thought. The house was now on the market, but for some reason a collection of three new houses being built on the village outskirts had caught her imagination. They were going to be beautiful! Four bedrooms, a kitchen to die for, wonderful views down the valley and all mod cons. It was something she’d only dreamed of before. Now, if she had been thinking of staying she might have bought one.

She turned her mind back to more immediate things. Two of her aunts had invited her to Sunday lunch. It was going to be a typical noisy family do, with loads of relatives and noisy children. Perhaps it was the best thing for her though. She didn’t really want to be on her own all the time, did she?

The lunch was exactly as she thought and after accepting two helpings of
souvla
she knew her waspy waist was in danger of becoming more like a chunky Michelin man’s. But it had been marinated for hours and it tasted
so good
.

Seated opposite was a middle-aged man she’d never met before, Christos Ioannidis. He was apparently a widower and lived alone in Limassol, his wife having died two years ago of breast cancer. Christos appeared to be quiet and reserved, well-mannered and respectful of his host and hostess. When he was first introduced to Maria his eyes held hers and she thought as she gazed into those dark pools that here was a man who could be trusted and liked.

‘I have visited England twice. I enjoyed my holidays there, but I missed Cyprus even during those short visits. I enjoyed the novelty of the rain but I don’t think I could ever live there permanently.’ As Maria listened she found herself agreeing with him. The rain was something she had not missed at all.

He talked about his dead wife in a quiet voice, controlled and with a light in his eyes. Maria decided that she had been right with her judgement. He was a very nice man so when he asked her to accompany him to a concert later that week she accepted at once.

They found they enjoyed each other’s company and began to go out regularly together; for dinner, the cinema and to watch a play or two down in Hero’s Square. Christos had to be careful with what he ate as he was a diabetic. So long as he was sensible and took his insulin on time he was able to eat most things.  It was some time later that Maria realised that he was courting her. Courting was the only way she could describe their meetings as he was very reserved and courteous. Not once had he made a pass.

‘Christos what business are you in?’ she asked one evening early in their relationship.

He took a moment to answer her and took a sip of wine. ‘I have a shop in Limassol and another in Nicosia.’

‘Why haven’t you told me before?’

‘You never asked,’ he replied with a smile.

Maria discovered that the shops sold bathroom equipment and tiles – like so many others on the island. As she hadn’t even thought about redoing her own bathroom, the shops failed to interest her.

Maria’s months in Cyprus turned into three and then four. It would soon be Christmas and friends in England were asking when she would be returning…

…and then…Christos asked her to marry him!

Maria was completely taken by surprise – and she realised with a thrill – delight. She began to dream of long white dresses and veils, and a romantic honeymoon in somewhere like Hawaii, and he was
so nice.
She reckoned she loved him - so she said yes.

                                                            ~~~~~

The wedding was to be a huge affair; she’d never known Christos had so many relatives and a couple of weeks before the big day he came to her looking embarrassed and worried.

‘What is it Christos?’ she asked her voice full of tenderness and concern.

‘I don’t know how to say this, but I’ve been let down in a business deal. I’ve overspent on materials and they haven’t arrived from Italy yet. The real problem is unless I sub-buy from another outlet I’ll lose my customers. This means I won’t be able to afford to pay for the wedding.’ He looked suitably depressed and downhearted.

Maria threw her arms around him. ‘Why didn’t you say so earlier? Don’t worry my love; I have plenty to cover the wedding. It’ll be my present to you.’

‘Thank you,’ he said in a small voice. ‘And the honeymoon? I did so want to visit Greece and take a tour of the monasteries. It’s been my life’s dream.’

Maria was momentarily flabbergasted. She so wanted to see Hawaii. But what the heck, they could afford to go there next year on her money if necessary.

‘Darling, I’ll pay. You can make it up to me when your boat comes in.’ She laughed forgetting he’d not understand the English joke.

And so began their
three months tour
of Greece and all things churchy. After a couple of weeks, Maria was bored witless and was on the point of saying that, ‘if I see another church or monastery I’ll scream.’ But she acted as a good Cypriot wife and held her tongue.

The money began to flow from her fingers and into his hands. His boat never came in, and she was astounded on discovering he had already sold the two shops long before they’d left Cypriot shores. The money was not as plentiful as it would have been a year or two before because of the world economy. Maria realised that he had very little left now she was paying for everything.

She gritted her teeth. He would change once they returned home.

‘Home?’ he said. ‘I think we need a bigger house don’t you? That little village house of yours is all right for old people but we need something finer down in Limassol. Don’t you agree? We’ll look as soon as we arrive home.’

And they did. He found a nice four bed-roomed property that stood near the highway, just where people would recognise it as being his once he’d told them their new address. ‘It needs to be seen. We need to show our friends that we have such a beautiful house and two cars.’ He’d already added a smart four-wheel drive to Maria’s Mercedes.