Chapter 39
‘Wow. It’s so big!’
‘I know.’
‘Not that that’s a bad thing.’
‘No?’
‘I mean, I don’t know how I never noticed this before.’
‘Maybe, when you saw it before, you did not like it. Because it was so big and not like anything else. I am not sure the size of the ball is accurate, you know.’
‘I wouldn’t know. I am not a ball connoisseur.’
‘Really?’
‘Stop it.’
Kostas took a deep breath as he and Faye stood by his bronze statue.
Her impassioned talk about the area of land he wanted to get his hands on to create his statement complex had thrown him.
As had the news of the offer Stathis had obviously made without him.
Now that was done, other people were involved – an estate agent, Dimitria – there was no going back.
But he was feeling torn and he didn’t know what to do with that.
On the one hand he felt he should stay focussed on what he had come here to do, but on the other…
he found himself wanting to be real. With Faye.
As real as he had been with anyone. And that was dangerous because that meant that emotional side he kept in check, the side that hid wall-hangings and cushions in the wardrobe, was starting to reveal itself.
So, apparently, that meant he had brought her here. To his statue.
Did he loathe it a little less now he was seeing it for a second time?
Maybe simply it felt different because it had lost its initial impact.
He’d known it existed, he had seen photos, then he had come with Stathis and it had been weird to see it in person, but now, now there was a small part of him that felt something other than hatred.
But like with what was happening with Faye, he wasn’t quite ready to define exactly what that something else was.
‘People worship this,’ Faye said, looking at some of the things around the base.
‘Yes,’ he answered. And there were definitely new items since the last time he had come – a vest he had not seen before, some drawings on cardboard.
‘Your career meant something to people here,’ Faye stated. ‘You mean something, or they wouldn’t leave… offerings.’
‘Don’t say offerings,’ he begged. ‘Or sacrifices. Stathis found this very amusing when he brought me here.’
‘Seriously though, Kosta. Whether you like it or not, whether you think you deserve it or not, people here care about you.’
He sighed. ‘People here do not know me.’
People in Athens didn’t know him either.
He kept guarded because, in his experience, the more people knew about you, the more they could use it as ammunition.
Naivety usually led to exploitation, and his knowing that meant he had turned the tables, deployed it himself, to succeed but also to keep safe.
‘They know what you did for your team, for your country’s team.’
He looked at her. ‘I never told you I played for Greece.’
‘No,’ Faye said. ‘Wikipedia did. And I fact-checked it with your Instagram account.’
‘Faye, have you been stalking me on social media?’
‘Saffron says it’s called “intelligence gathering”.’
‘Who does Saffron stalk on social media? No, let me guess, The Weeknd.’
‘No, that’s all me.’
‘Oh, wow, OK, Faye, you have a type. Young, handsome guys with beards. I am just another face to you. And I cannot sing so…’
‘Well,’ Faye said. ‘Perhaps if you could sing too, there would be an even bigger statue.’ She laughed. ‘Actually I don’t know why I said that, could it get any bigger?’
‘Will you stop saying things like that? You will kill a guy.’
She laughed again and he found himself smiling on the inside at her infectious enthusiasm for literally everything, despite everything. She was strong, fortified, yet building that hadn’t made her hard; there was still openness, softness… things he lacked.
‘You don’t have to tell me anything about your family issues, you know,’ Faye told him gently. ‘I know I said I would listen, and I do mean that, but if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine too.’
He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. ‘Efharistó. Thank you.’ Honesty. He rubbed her arm with his hand as he hugged her. ‘Listen, Faye, I want you to know that the woman you saw with me at the hotel—’
‘You don’t need to explain,’ Faye interrupted. ‘We’re grown-ups. We aren’t tied to each other. We can see whoever we want to see and—’
‘Nothing happened.’ He took his arm from around her and put the flat of his palm to his chest. ‘On my life.’ He sighed. ‘But, for a moment, when I invited her there, I wanted it to. So, you know, I’m still a shit.’
‘I didn’t think you were a shit,’ Faye said.
‘No?’
‘I just thought you were doing what young guys do.’
He nodded. ‘Ah, an age thing. Well, I guess Wiki told you my age, but I don’t even know how old you are, Faye. And, just so you know, it really doesn’t matter to me.’
She looked him dead in the eye. ‘I’m forty.’
He matched her gaze, unmoved. ‘And I said it really doesn’t matter to me.’ He took a breath. ‘But maybe it matters to you?’
Faye smiled. ‘Me being forty? Or you being twenty-five?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe you should run because I’m an Aries.’
She laughed. ‘Me too.’
‘Theé mou! We are in deep, deep trouble.’
‘Yeah.’
‘The deepest,’ he whispered, leaning in towards her. And next he pulled her tighter, squeezing, his fingers finding her ribs, tickling.
‘Don’t do that!’ she said, laughing. ‘It hurts.’
‘That is not pain. It is a… pathway to pleasure. Give in to it.’
‘Kosta, stop. Stop.’
He was so caught up in her laughter, her squealing, he didn’t notice they were drawing attention to themselves…
until the singing began. He let go of Faye and she stood straight and suddenly they were in a ring of people around them and the statue, all of them belting out ‘The Hymn of Liberty’ – the Greek National Anthem.
That song. The song of his country. The words his father had taught him with such pride.
Before Kostas could catch hold of his emotions, there were tears in his eyes.
Just over two minutes later, it was over and the crowd all clapped their hands in applause. He touched the left side of his chest in appreciation and then a girl ran up to him, a Greek national basketball jersey in her hands.
‘Iroas,’ she whispered, dark eyes shining.
Hero. And here, in front of the icon of him, knowing what he had come here to do, he had never felt less of one.