Chapter 28
28
KASSIOPI HARBOUR
Christos saw her from the moment she rounded the corner in front of the old Passion nightclub. Hair flying back, jogging in sandals, slipping a little on the paving, skipping over boat ropes and the metal rings to tie boats off, wearing denim cut-offs and a cream-coloured vest top. And there was that feeling again, a pull, something inside indicating that this person had an effect on him. But, he didn’t need it in his life, couldn’t trust it, whatever it was. Relationships like that were toxic – he had plenty of evidence from his parents and the fact that his godfather Vaggelis never settled down – it was far better to manage feelings, focus on business and make time when necessary for casual encounters. It was one thing for Magdalena to have a boyfriend, she was younger when their dad left, not as tarnished by his behaviour, still of the mindset that Prince Charming exists. But, it was different for him. Wasn’t it?
‘Good morning, Christos. Sorry I’m late. I?—’
‘Had breakfast at Illusions Kitchen Bar,’ he replied.
She was standing on the harbourside now, looking across the boat at him.
‘Er, yes,’ she answered.
‘It is good there,’ he told her.
‘Yes,’ she agreed.
And he was being deliberately offish. He needed to stop that. She had done nothing wrong. Last night in the water at Astrakeri was all on him.
‘Come on,’ he said, moving to the front of the boat and holding out his hand. ‘We are going to assess the engine.’
‘I thought we were going to mend the hole in the deck,’ she said, taking his hand and making a leap as he helped to steady her.
‘We will,’ he answered. ‘But, I think it is more important to see if the boat actually still works. I do not think anyone has started it up for some time.’
‘Do you know anything about boat engines?’ Molly asked.
‘I was hoping you did.’
‘Ha! Very funny.’
She swiped his side and he recoiled, a stab of pain shooting through him.
‘Oh my God, Christos, I am so sorry. That was so stupid of me. Is it OK? Should I look? Check it?’
‘ Ochi ,’ he replied, tensing a little, letting his body relax again. ‘No, it will be fine.’
‘Are you sure? Do you still have the honey patch on?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘My mother found out about it. She knows it came from Maria. She is now not talking to me.’
‘Oh,’ Molly said. ‘That’s awkward.’
‘That is my family,’ he agreed. ‘So, shall we see if this boat will start?’
Considering the shabby nature of the exterior and the clutter in the cabin below, the actual ‘bridge’ of this boat was surprisingly modern. A steering wheel, electronics, a communication radio of some sort. Molly had no idea how any of it worked but she knew it wasn’t Christos’s first sailing rodeo.
‘Do you want to turn the key?’ he asked her.
‘Oh, wow, really? I don’t know whether I should have the responsibility of doing that when I’ve never done anything on a boat before. I might break it or something and… I only own 50 per cent of it.’
‘Then shall we do it together?’ he suggested.
Molly swallowed as all the memories from last night came rushing back. The last time they did something together she had got so wet… and not just from the waves. And the key in the ignition was very small. Together would mean fingers upon fingers. She may have done the sensible thing last night but just being in this man’s orbit sent her good sense into a spin.
‘What am I saying?’ Christos blurted loudly. ‘It is not significant. It will either start or it won’t.’
Before she could say or even think anything else he turned the key. A flurry of mottled, throaty, gurgling noises commenced and then nothing.
‘That didn’t sound great,’ Molly remarked.
‘ Simfonó . I agree. But, you know, when things are not used sometimes they forget how they are supposed to work.’
And that comment hit places it probably shouldn’t have…
He turned the key again, more noises, growling and struggling this time. It wasn’t sounding like this engine wanted to live.
‘A piece of junk,’ Christos said, thumping the wheel with his hand. ‘Like everything else Vaggelis owned.’
‘What, so you’re giving up?’ Molly asked.
‘Do you have a suggestion? Do you want to look at the engine?’
‘You literally just said sometimes things forget how to work if they’re not used. Can’t we give it a minute, to get used to the fact that it might have to work?’
She wasn’t really convincing herself but something inside her was thinking how nice it would be to get it going, sail it out into the harbour, see a bit of what it might have been like for her mum years ago.
‘Shall we give it a cigarette?’ Christos asked, observing her. ‘Stick it into the carburettor?’
‘Do you have no faith in anything working out?’ Molly queried.
‘Do you?’ he countered fast.
He had a point. Initially, when she had woken up this morning, when she had seen the dip in the brand’s Instagram, she had momentarily wondered whether it was all worth it, but giving up completely on something that meant so much to her, that wasn’t her style.
She put her fingers on the key and took a breath. ‘I believe that Vaggelis kept things because they all had memories associated with them. And, although the engine might be old and unused, I do not believe, from the little I have found out about him, that he would have let this go to complete ruin.’
She closed her eyes and then with hope in her heart, she turned the key.
Rasping. Coughing like it had inhaled on a cigarette. Sputtering. And then… sparking into life. A few judders and then a roar as the engine started.
‘Oh my God! Molly! You have fixed it!’
‘I did! I mean, I didn’t do anything but turn the key but?—’
‘We should take it out,’ Christos said.
‘The key?’
‘No! Do not touch the key now it is working. The boat. We should see if it is seaworthy. It will affect the price we could get if we sell.’
‘Now?’ Molly asked.
‘Right now. I will untie it. You pull up the anchor.’
‘OK,’ Molly agreed.
‘OK.’
She watched him rush to the back of the boat. ‘One thing,’ she called.
‘Yes.’
‘Where is the anchor?’