Chapter 41
41
THE ROAD TO OLD PERITHIA
‘It looks so small,’ Christos said. ‘And weak.’
They were standing at the edge of the road in a shaded spot made by towering cypress trees. It was cooler here, hidden from the still-hot sun and the steaming tarmac.
‘It is small,’ Molly answered. ‘But it’s alive and it’s growing and it’s going to be a beautiful big tree one day.’
Christos shook his head, fingers touching the fine branches of this very young-looking olive tree. ‘Why did no one tell me the tree burned in the fires?’
‘Well, we didn’t really hang around at the first meeting with Katerina and?—’
‘I mean before… my family. When the fires were happening, when I was here, why did they not tell me that the tree was lost?’
Molly didn’t know if he was talking to her or maybe talking to himself, or perhaps, even talking to the tree. He was deep in thought and she didn’t know if she should say anything or not, perhaps let him draw his own conclusions. But then he said no more, and she felt it was the right moment.
‘Maybe, when it was all happening, the tree was the last thing they were thinking of. You said that the fires were very bad, that there was a danger for people’s lives and their homes and that people with many olive trees lost all their business for the upcoming year. Perhaps this one tree was not at the forefront of their minds.’ She didn’t really know the answer, but it seemed he needed some kind of consolation here.
‘There should have been time to mention it. It may have only been one tree, but it was important to Vaggelis.’
‘Are there photos?’ Molly asked him.
‘ Ti ? What?’
‘Your family have photographs of everything. Do they have photos of the old olive tree?’
‘I do not know.’ But he had paused and his expression said that the cogs of his mind were whirring. Then, ‘Maybe. There was once a strong competition down by the trees. All the men from the villages came to see who would be the victor. There were ropes for battling and large stones. There should be photographs of that.’
‘Perhaps this is a better place for the tree than where it was,’ Molly suggested. ‘It is sheltered here.’
‘I do not know,’ Christos said. ‘These cypress trees put everything in shade, and it is a little cramped here.’
‘Well, there must have been a reason that Vaggelis chose to plant a new tree in this spot,’ Molly said.
‘Oh, I know exactly why he chose this spot,’ Christos said, nodding like he knew a secret.
‘Why?’
‘Because it is a short equal distance between the taverna at Loutses and the first taverna at Old Perithia.’ He shook his head.
‘He wanted to see the tree, then walk for drinks?’ Molly asked.
‘Walk?’ Christos said, bursting out a laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Vaggelis did not walk anywhere. If he was not driving somewhere in that truck then he was sailing somewhere on the boat. The only walking he did was around his apartment. Sometimes I would watch him get in his truck to drive from one side of the harbour to the other.’
She smiled. ‘You smile when you talk about him.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, even when you are speaking about faults you think he had, there is always a smile on your face.’
‘He did have the ability to bring out the best in people which makes me think…’
He stopped talking, took a step back from the tree and turned to face her.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘In the truck you said you were angry with me,’ Christos said. ‘Or, in fact, you said that you wanted to be angry with me. Why do you want to be angry with me?’
Hmm, that was a question, and all the bravado she had had earlier when she had jumped into the truck full of her mum’s wise words about not leaving things undone was evaporating like things did when you thought about them too much.
‘Can we walk?’ she suggested.
‘Which way?’ he asked.
‘The shortest to the nearest taverna?’
‘This way,’ he said, turning to their left.
Stepping out of the shade, the heat hit her and it didn’t help with the question she wanted to ask. But there was only one way to work things out and that was to say something and move forward.
‘So,’ Molly said.
‘So,’ he repeated.
‘Have you ever been in a situation you felt so unprepared for, despite trying, for your whole life, to make sure you’re never in that kind of situation?’
‘Many times,’ Christos said. ‘Many situations.’
‘OK, so that’s how I feel right now.’
‘With your business?’ he asked her. ‘With the boat?’
‘No, Christos, with you.’
She took a breath, her insides quaking. Was she really going to say this? Do this? And he hadn’t said anything.
‘I don’t know if it’s in my head, but I think there might be something here, something between us and?—’
‘ Ne ,’ he said. ‘Yes.’
‘You feel it too?’ she asked, caught somewhere between joyful and nervous.
‘Stop walking for a moment,’ he said.
She did as he said, stepping into the shade of overhanging fig tree branches. But this wasn’t his conversation to control. She took a breath. ‘I know we’re in the middle of so much here but, I don’t know, there seems to be something else.’
‘I agree,’ Christos said, reaching for her hands.
His fingers interlocked with hers and the connection was instantly so comforting. It wasn’t the same sensually intense moments they had had before; it was somehow so much more.
‘But, I do not know what it is,’ she whispered like it was a secret. ‘Or what we should do about it. Or even if we should do something about it.’
‘And that is why you are angry with me?’ he asked.
‘Maybe,’ she said.
‘Because of how being with me makes you feel?’ he asked, his eyes locking onto hers.
Now that connection was back to fiery, and his fingers were making patterns over her skin.
‘Maybe,’ she answered.
‘In Greece, instead of “maybe” we say “ ísos ”,’ he said. ‘And if that is the case then I have reason to be angry with you too.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘Because of how being with you makes me feel.’
‘So, we are angry at each other,’ Molly said, enjoying the way his fingers were caressing her skin.
‘It would seem that way,’ he answered. ‘Which is difficult because the only thing I can now think about is…’
‘Is?’
‘Pulling you into this canopy of flowers and kissing you.’
Now her heart wasn’t just skipping a beat, it was full-on pounding like it wanted to burst through her rib cage and present itself to the steamy ground.
‘But,’ he whispered, eyes on hers.
‘But?’
‘Perhaps there is always too much thinking.’
And suddenly she was surrounded by petals – pink, red, white – and the fragrance was almost as hot and heady as the scent of Christos’s cologne. She barely had a second before his hands cupped her face and his lips were on hers. Again. But this time, as well as pure sexy, it felt deeper, stronger, like this wasn’t just two people passing passionate time with each other.
She clung to him, and everything else they were wrapped up in here together drifted away for a moment until he groaned and his mouth finally left hers.
‘Why is everything so hard?’ he asked.
‘Oh, well, I… don’t know what to say to that but I definitely have the female equivalent if it helps.’
He smiled at her, his eyes darkening. ‘OK, Miss Molly. I hear you.’
‘Do you?’ She was teasing him and definitely enjoying seeing his reaction.
‘I do.’ He sighed, brushing back his hair with his hand. ‘But, you know, I really think there might be something between us.’
‘I thought we’d already solidified that,’ she answered with a wry grin.
‘Something more,’ he continued. ‘You know, something that does not have to be fast maybe.’
‘ ísos ,’ she replied.
‘You want to learn Greek?’ he asked.
‘Maybe I just want a Greek teacher,’ she said with all the sultry undertones.
He smiled. ‘Then you should know that students have to start slow.’
She sighed. ‘But what if they don’t know how long they can commit to the course for?’
‘Does anyone know that for certain?’
‘Agreed. But I mainly meant the location aspect.’ She swallowed. ‘Because I have basically no experience in anything other than the going fast way.’
He nodded. ‘For me, the same.’ He took her hand. ‘That is why I would like to try something a little different, no?’
‘Frustratingly different, ísos ?’
He squeezed her hand. ‘We have to get you knowing more than one Greek word.’
‘I know more than one,’ she insisted. ‘The first word I heard when I got here was malaka . And I know yammas and I know kalimera . And when I was driving the truck and didn’t pull away from the traffic lights fast enough someone yelled “ gamisou ”. I don’t think I need to be good at Greek to guess what that meant.’
He shook his head. ‘Greek drivers are the best, you know.’
‘I am getting the feeling that Greeks think they are the best at everything.’
‘Oh no, Molly,’ Christos said, a smile on his face as he shook his head. ‘We do not think we are the best at everything.’ He moved in closer again. ‘We know we are the best at everything.’
She grinned. ‘Spoken like a true Greek. But… you might have to prove it to me.’
‘Ah, really,’ he said, his face closer still.
‘Really,’ she affirmed, her stomach clenching with the anticipation of having his mouth on hers again.
And, just like that, a phone started ringing, the tone getting louder and the accompanying buzz more frequent.
‘ Signomi ,’ Christos apologised, stepping back, petals sticking in his hair as he reached into the pocket of his jeans.
She watched him look at the phone screen.
‘It is Magdalena,’ he stated.
‘Well, answer it,’ Molly said. ‘It’s fine. We’re going slow, remember?’
‘I would answer it,’ he said. ‘But she should not be talking to me right now.’
‘Why?’
He groaned, still watching the screen. ‘Because I am stupid. Because I got mad and I told my mother about her boyfriend.’
‘Oh.’
The phone stopped ringing but instantaneously began again.
‘This is not good,’ Christos said. ‘It means it’s something urgent. Because Magdalena can ignore me for months.’
‘Answer it!’ Molly urged.
He put the phone to his ear and a conversation in Greek ensued. There was no way she could understand any of those words, especially when they were being spoken in rapid fire. But one word she did understand was her name. Why were they talking about her?
‘So,’ Christos said when he had ended the call. ‘We need to go.’
‘Go where?’
He took her hand again and she knew something was off. From the way he was speaking – softly, gently – to his touch – soothing yet solid, consoling? – whatever the phone call had been about, it involved her and Christos was worried.
‘Molly, everything is going to be fine, OK?’ he said as they stepped out from under the flowers and back onto the main part of the road.
‘And you saying that makes me know that something is wrong.’ Despite the heat, she shivered.
‘Give me the keys to the truck,’ he said. ‘I’m calling my 50 per cent right now.’