Chapter 40
40
KONTESA, ACHARAVI
Christos focused on his laptop screen as he sat at this vibrant coffee/cocktail bar. It was a hot spot with chilled music and great coffee, the perfect place to unwind… or check emails. It was early evening now, past siesta time, the town coming alive again, a combination of red-skinned tourists coming back from the beach and tired Greeks going back to work in the heat. He had worked through siesta. He had worked through the whole of the rest of the day, distracted only by the miaows of Armeena who had paced the apartment, clawing at the nets, the walls, the sofa, desperate to escape. In the end he couldn’t bear it any longer and he had let her out. He wasn’t entirely sure why his mother wanted to keep her inside anyway. And, sometimes, the more you tried to make something stay, the more it longed to run. He sighed and sipped at his Americano. Like him, getting ready to return to Athens. But was he? Ready to leave again? Ready to run? He felt tension at the base of his neck and he rolled his shoulders. Better. But then the blast of a car horn had him jumping in his seat. He looked across at the road expecting to see some kind of parking altercation as was usual when the main street was so busy, but, instead, he saw a vehicle that was instantly recognisable. The red truck. The driver was recognisable too. Molly. The window wound down and her head poked out.
‘Finish your drink, then get in the truck.’
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
‘Did you hear me?’ she called.
‘ Ne ,’ he answered, nodding. ‘Yes.’
‘Good. I’ll turn the truck around.’
He watched the truck pull off, the exhaust pipe vibrating as it headed towards the pump roundabout and then he looked at his laptop. He closed the lid and finished what was left of his coffee before leaving some money for the bill.
Another blast of the horn and the truck was back. He rushed down the steps towards it, opening the passenger door and getting in. Before he had even closed the door, Molly’s foot was on the gas pedal and they were going!
‘Are you in some kind of rush?’ Christos asked, trying to get the seat belt over his shoulder.
‘Yes,’ Molly said. ‘A rush to see the olive tree before it gets dark.’
He pulled at the strap, but it was so loose it wasn’t going to save anyone from anything. But it didn’t seem like Molly was wanting to use the brakes any time soon.
‘We need to see that tonight?’ Christos asked.
‘ I want to see it tonight,’ Molly stated, overtaking two tourists skirting the edge of the road on a quad bike.
‘O-K. You are mad for some reason?’
‘I’m not mad, Christos. I’m taking control.’
‘O-K. And you have not had this before?’
‘No,’ she answered. ‘I’ve let you have control. And Katerina. And your family. But the inheritance that Vaggelis left me, for whatever reason, it’s mine and I need to look after that interest.’
‘Molly, I have not ever tried to hide anything from you.’ He swallowed. That wasn’t quite true, his feelings were always buried deep. He re-established. ‘In terms of the estate.’
‘Well, we need to establish some boundaries,’ she stated.
He frowned. ‘You want to make out equal plots? Cut things in half?’
‘I want to get on with working out the value of things so we have a clear understanding of their worth, or what their worth would be if they were given a little TLC.’
He frowned, not understanding. ‘TLC?’
‘It means…’ She cleared her throat. ‘Tender, loving care.’ She took a breath. ‘It just means “renovated”.’
‘Ohhhh,’ Christos said. ‘You are reconsidering the party boat idea?’
‘ My party boat idea.’
‘That does not sound like equal boundaries to me.’
She flicked on the indicator and, when that didn’t work, she pushed it up hard and the stick came off in her hand. He watched her get caught between looking at the road and trying to work out what to do with the indicator she was holding. He took it from her.
‘Make the turn,’ he said calmly. ‘It is fine. No one in Greece uses these anyway.’
‘The truck is falling apart,’ she remarked, catching her breath and refocusing as they entered the village of Perithia – the newer one at the bottom of the mountain rather than the top. ‘When I got in to come here some of the paint flaked off on my dress.’
‘Hmm, you are driving it quite a lot more than me. Perhaps we need to establish a calendar for who drives it when.’
‘OK,’ Molly said. And then she applied the brakes hard which seemed to take a while to produce the desired effect. But then, right outside the cafeneon , it finally ground to a squeaky halt. ‘Why don’t we start now, if you think I’ve been driving it too much.’
She pushed the button to unfasten her seat belt but nothing happened. She jabbed at it again – still nothing. Christos watched her growing more and more frustrated; this woman who had beeped the horn at him and arrived in this situation all feisty and determined. He felt the laughter rising up in him fast and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
‘It isn’t funny!’ Molly exclaimed.
‘Oh, but it is,’ Christos said. ‘My seat belt won’t fasten at all and is like a useless piece of cloth, yours is trapping you!’
‘Get it off me!’ Molly screamed.
‘Maybe it is a sign,’ Christos suggested. ‘That you should continue to drive, that I should let the fact I own 50 per cent of the vehicle go in this moment.’
‘Christos, if you don’t get me out of this driver’s seat right now I will?—’
‘You will what?’
She was so frustrated and mad and crazy and it was written all over her expression. She had never looked more attractive to him. And they were oh-so close again, the front cab of the truck so small.
‘I will… sign over my leg of Armeena and make you and your family fully responsible for her.’
‘I think that cat is so independent you would have problems with anyone being even a tiny bit responsible for her.’
‘Sometimes I feel the same way about my mother.’
He smiled. ‘Me too.’
‘Argh! Christos! I want to be angry with you! Why can’t I be angry with you?! And why can’t I get out of this seat belt?!’
He pressed a button in the panel of the dashboard, reached into the cubby and pulled out the small knife Vaggelis had always kept there. One quick slice and the seat belt recoiled like a terrified snake.
‘Wow, OK,’ Molly said. ‘I guess now we need to get a new seat belt too. Add it to the list of things this thing needs to make it roadworthy.’
He smiled. ‘Worthy of the road. Not things it needs to make it sell?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘All I heard was “TLC”,’ he told her.
‘You are completely annoying,’ she said, opening the door of the truck, specks of rust dropping to the road. ‘And you are driving now!’
Still smiling, he got out of the truck and prepared to switch seats.