Chapter 10 Koločep
Kolo?ep
Natali pushed the tender away from the quayside, waving at Ana before patting down her pockets. Shopping list. Cash. That was all she needed. Obi was already straining her lead towards the crates waiting for the ferry, so it was definitely time to get on with their walk.
As they started across the concrete apron, Obi gave an excited bark of recognition, her tail wagging furiously. The old lady, Baka Valenti?, was sitting on the same bench as before, just a few metres away from them.
“Ah Obi, Natali. It’s lovely to see you.” Baka patted her lap, and Obi leapt onto it, jerking Natali forwards on the end of her lead. “I’m sorry, my dear,” Baka continued. “That was a rather silly thing to do. I don’t always think. Probably a result of my advancing years.”
“It’s n-no problem. She’s only a small dog after all.”
Baka looked puzzled for a moment. “Ah, I see. Small dog, small tug.”
“Yes.” It seemed rude not to join Baka on the bench, although she shouldn’t chat for too long. Chat! That would be a fine thing. She wanted to, but…
“So how is your library going?”
Natali grimaced. “I think you were r-right and most children would rather play.”
“Perhaps it is just early days. The more people see you here, the more they will talk about it, the more they will come… You know how it is on islands.”
“Not really. I’m from Dubrovnik.”
“And what is it like, living there?”
Natali screwed up her face. She’d never really thought about it before. She had nowhere to compare it with. “Noisy. Too many people. N-not like it is here. These smaller places are very d-different. Calmer. N-nicer, I think.”
“And of course on the islands, people talk to you. And you are talking more today.”
Was she? She supposed it hadn’t felt like too much of a struggle to find the words, but then she didn’t feel uncomfortable with Baka like she did some people.
Probably because she liked Obi. For her part she’d be more than happy to sit here in silence while the old lady petted the dog, but then she remembered that last time Baka had said she wanted some conversation.
Perhaps she was lonely, but wasn’t her son… ? Inspiration.
“How is your son’s visit going?” she asked.
Baka’s face was glowing with happiness. “He arrives today. On the next ferry, I hope.”
“So he was delayed?” Baka must have been so disappointed.
“It is many, many years since I’ve seen him. He lives in America, you know. When he left, there was nothing here – no money, you see, after the war, no future. But he promised me that one day he would come back, and now he is.”
Of course she’d told Natali this before, but she must be excited about seeing her son again. It was such a shame he’d been held up. Or maybe Baka had got muddled over the dates? She was pretty old, after all. That was the most likely reason, and at least he would be here soon.
Natali stood, lifting Obi onto the floor. “We must go now. Shopping to d-do. I hope you have a wonderful time with him,” she said.
Baka leant down to give Obi a final stroke. “Thank you, Natali. I know I will.”
Already it was too hot to climb very far up the hill, Obi slowing their progress as she stopped to sniff every bush and wall where another dog had left their mark.
“Fill your paws,” Natali told her, figuring it was the dog’s walk after all. “It’ll take a while yet to unload the vegetables.”
The path was lined with houses on either side, properties with generous gardens or groves of citrus around them, shuttered and still in the morning air.
No doubt some were weekend or holiday homes, but others bore signs of habitation: washing hanging limply in search of a breeze, or a packet of cigarettes and coffee mug abandoned on a terrace table.
What it must be like to live in a whole house, especially one with space around it, was beyond Natali’s imagination.
To wake in the morning, not to the sound of traffic or the neighbours upstairs thudding about, but to the hum of cicadas.
And then to step outside, watch Obi pad across the grass, sniff the shrubs in her own safe space and without a lead…
It would be oh so wonderful, and something about these islands made her believe that maybe even ordinary people could live like that.
Not her, obviously. Even Auntie Stela’s mantra of positivity couldn’t be quite that powerful, but all the same it was a wonderful dream.
Before long, Obi was panting and Natali filled her pop-up bowl with water, watching as she drank noisily.
“It isn’t just you,” she told her. “I’m thirsty too, and I bet Lloyd is as well. Let’s hope there’s something chilled in the fridge in the shop.” She liked doing little things to make Lloyd smile. He was such a kind man, and it must have been awful for him when his wife died so young.
A path to their right wound down through the trees and they followed its shade until they reached the village square.
Reluctantly leaving Obi tied to the lamp-post, Natali scooted into the minimarket’s dark interior, blinking furiously as her eyes adjusted.
A man with his sleeves rolled almost to his armpits was unpacking fruit and vegetables from cardboard boxes, practically throwing them onto the shelves, and Natali had to dodge an onion as she filled her bag with beans, chard and potatoes.
After peeping outside to check on Obi, who was perfectly happy being fussed by two small children, she dived back in, grabbed two bottles of cola from the fridge and a loaf of bread. Shopping complete, she paid the woman at the till and escaped into the sunlight.
It was as her eyes were adjusting that she noticed the man.
Tall and thin with the very palest blond hair, he was wearing a pair of baggy combats, ill-matched with his polo shirt.
As Natali watched, he dropped to one knee next to a café table, ostensibly to tie his shoelace, but did his hand flick into the beach bag next to him, then slide into his pocket?
She couldn’t be sure. Not sure enough to say anything.
And how would she find the words, even if she was certain?
Who would she tell? The woman with the expensive-looking sunglasses and manicured talons whose beach bag it probably was?
“Not on your life, Obi,” Natali whispered. “She looks properly scary.”
Oh, she knew saying nothing wasn’t right, but she also knew her limitations. Steering clear of trouble was second nature and something her mother had instilled in her from a very young age.
What had she been? Ten or eleven? Working for the summer as a pot washer in the restaurant where her mama had been waiting tables.
One day she’d noticed something odd: the chef giving meat to a man who she knew had a market stall, and rolls of kuna changing hands.
She hadn’t been so green as to not know what it meant, and that it was wrong, but when she’d told her mother she’d grabbed her by the shoulders so tightly it had really hurt.
“If you say a word to anyone it’s you who’ll be in trouble. You hear?” And Natali had nodded as Mama had shaken her, just to make sure she really understood.
So trouble was something she was keen to avoid.
What if the man she’d just seen – or the woman, happily sipping coffee at the table in front of her – somehow twisted things so Natali herself appeared to be the thief?
That would be so beyond awful. She could almost see herself at the police station, Obi taken from her, losing her job… No. No way was she going to interfere.
Much as she didn’t want to see where he went or what he did next, typically the man was heading towards the ferry quay too.
She couldn’t help but watch as he ambled between the café tables, but thankfully he didn’t stop again.
Hopefully she’d been mistaken. Hurrying Obi along, she overtook him, relieved to get him out of her sight.
At the library table Lloyd was busy chatting to a round-faced woman in a large sunhat, while her teenage daughter picked up one book after another at a glacial pace. Unwilling to interrupt, Natali popped the bottle of cola under the table then headed for the quay.
“That’s quite enough excitement for one day, Obi,” she said. “Let’s get back to the boat.”