Chapter Thirty-Four
Nelly
Penelope’s Taverna is a white-painted building that has mismatched chairs and tables in a front garden, and bright pelargoniums flourishing in pots. There’s a large blackboard chalked up with the house specials– pork souvlaki, grilled sardines, rabbit stew– propped beside the front door.
Inside, a young woman whose long black hair is kept off her face by a red printed headscarf perches on one of the tables, her legs swinging as she reads a book. At Nelly’s entrance, she leaps down at once, looking embarrassed. ‘ Kalispera ,’ she says, putting the book behind her back, but not before Nelly has seen the picture on the cover of a man and woman kissing passionately. Ahh, a romantic, she thinks with a little smile.
‘Please, have a seat,’ the young woman says. ‘Inside or outside?’
The inside dining area is light and airy, with whitewashed walls and huge windows, but Nelly would always rather have a sea view. ‘Outside, please,’ she says, then hesitates, wanting to ask her question about Alexander. There’s no time though, because the young woman has grabbed a laminated menu and is already leading the way back out into the front garden and gesturing around at the tables.
‘Thank you– efcharisto ,’ says Nelly, taking a seat at one. ‘Um—’
‘One moment, Iget you water,’ the woman says, and vanishes once more.
She might as well have lunch here, Nelly decides, as she looks at the menu and finds it to be full of delicious-sounding things. The woman comes back with a jug of water and a basket of fresh bread, and Nelly orders some tomato fritters, salad and tzatziki. ‘And also,’ she adds, as the woman nods and prepares to whirl away again, ‘Iwas wondering. . . Iam looking for Alexander Nikolaou. Do you know him?’
‘Alexander? Hmm,’ the waitress says thoughtfully. She has high cheekbones and magnificent eyebrows, one of those naturally beautiful women who don’t need a scrap of make-up to look stunning. ‘No, but my boss here, she is Katerina Nikolaou. Ithink she has two brothers– maybe one is Alexander? Iwill ask her for you?’
A bolt of electricity seems to rush through Nelly. Oh my goodness. Penelope’s Taverna is run by Alexander’s sister? That must have been what the guy in the bar was trying to tell her. ‘And the brothers are still. . . alive?’ she asks with a gulp.
‘Oh yes,’ the waitress replies. ‘One brother, he is priest. Another brother, he has a boat.’
Nelly feels hot and cold all over. It must be him. It must be! ‘Can Ispeak to Katerina, please?’ she asks. ‘Is she in today?’ If Katerina can get a message to Alexander, there might be time to see him while she is here, she thinks faintly. Her heart is pounding. He’s still alive. Alive, and with a boat!
‘She is working later,’ the girl says. ‘After six o’clock. You come back then, maybe?’
Disappointment crashes over Nelly, because she’ll be long gone by six o’clock, back on Kefalonia, probably having to deal with her sulky husband. Wildly she wonders if she should just stay here, forget her return ferry ticket, see if she can find a guest-house to put her up for the night. Sod Frank! she thinks in a sudden burst, before loyalty tugs at her and she remembers the state he’s been in all week, how paranoid he might be getting in her absence. Anyway, who knows if Alexander is even on Vathy right now? If he’s anything like the young man she fell in love with, he’ll be out at sea somewhere far away. Or, of course, busy with his wife and family.
‘Ican’t come back later,’ she replies regretfully. ‘But if her brother is Alexander, perhaps she could say hello to him for me? I’m Nelly,’ she goes on. ‘Maybe she could tell him “Nelly says hi”?’
‘Nelly says hi,’ the waitress repeats, looking intrigued– and also rather elated, Nelly thinks, remembering the overtly romantic cover of the book she was reading. ‘Yes, Ican do that,’ she says. ‘Of course. But what if he wants to say hi back? You want to leave him your number, yes?’
‘Oh! I. . .’ The thought of Alexander calling her up is discombobulating. She can’t imagine what it would be like to hear his voice again. Where would they begin after so long? ‘Well. . . Isuppose so,’ she says uncertainly, and fishes in her bag for a piece of paper. She finds an old receipt from Peter Jones in London. It’ll have to do. ‘If he wants to, that is.’
‘He is. . . an old friend, this Alexander?’ the waitress asks as if she can’t help herself.
Nelly writes her name and number on the receipt, then looks up and smiles at her. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘We were friends a long time ago.’ Iwas head over heels in love with him, she thinks but doesn’t say.
‘And perhaps. . . handsome too, Ithink?’ The girl’s eyebrow is cocked hopefully.
Rumbled. ‘Extremely handsome,’ Nelly confirms, handing over the note.
The waitress presses it dreamily to her heart, gazing heavenwards, and they both laugh. ‘Iwish you luck,’ she says with a happy sigh.
‘Thank you,’ says Nelly, and then holds up her crossed fingers. She still can’t quite imagine this as-yet-fictional phone call taking place but she’s definitely warming to the idea. Why not? Over to you, Fate, she thinks, as the waitress leaves her alone once more.