Chapter 36
CARRIE
Carrie opened the door of the villa to a lopsided grin, broad shoulders, a sweeping height, the authority of Alexander the Great and open-mindedness of Socrates or Plato…
Embarrassed at herself for a train of such over-the-top, love-struck thoughts, she let Dimitrios in.
But not before he’d righted a flowerpot that had fallen over, rescuing a worm that was dangling down the side.
Drago couldn’t have been more wrong. Anyone who knew Dimitrios for longer than five minutes…
Okay, so it had taken a little longer in Carrie’s case, and had involved spilling coffee down him!
But it was obvious that decency ran through his bones as much as marrow.
‘Yassou, Carrie!’ He leant forwards and kissed her cheek.
He carried a wicker basket and a guitar hung over his shoulder.
He put the instrument on the sofa before heading into the kitchen where he unpacked a dish of moussaka he’d cooked earlier, along with salad and a loaf of crusty bread.
He put the dish in the fridge whilst she poured two glasses of wine.
It would be good to relax after her shift at the rescue centre, and then this afternoon she’d gone into Tolmiros, shopping for a present for Eliza.
She’d popped into Boosalis to say hello to Nana who wore a scarf, as usual, and had agreed with Carrie a similar one would make an excellent gift, being also light to post. Nana had suggested getting a blue and white one in Greek colours.
She’d directed Carrie to a suitable shop, then had helped her package it up.
On her break, Nana had taken Carrie to the post office and arranged for the express delivery.
‘Cheers!’ Carrie said as they sat on the balcony. ‘This red is from the winery in Naoussa. Nana and I went yesterday.’
Their glasses clinked. ‘Did you see the Venetian Fortress?’
‘It looked stunning with the sunset behind it. How was your lunch with the record producer?’
‘Productive. Though he’s put the squeeze on me and the band to get the album written by the end of the year.
But sometimes I need that pressure. Apparently the bosses at the record label see me at a peak, in terms of my popularity, and they want to capitalise on it.
My band members live close to Athens, but we have a lot of virtual meetings, swap ideas and meet up when we can.
We’ve more or less finished seven of the twelve tracks we think we’ve got in us. ’
‘Your life – it’s complicated, what with your career, The Bar, with your dad.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘I wish I could still include Poseidon on that list. I always had to plan for her to be cared for, when I was away. Dad and my friends would help out. Occasionally she’d have to go into a cattery for a week or two. What a pity party she’d throw after that!’
‘You thought she was well, didn’t you, when she left? What if she was ill?’
Dimitrios shrugged. ‘She did have a stomach upset, but nothing serious, so I didn’t mention it to the local press or put it on the posters – she’d had more than one during the months running up to when she went missing.
A couple of years ago that happened when she ate a mouse.
Poseidon must have started hunting more than usual. ’
Oh. Something shifted inside her.
How had Drago known that something was off with Poseidon?
Dimitrios took another sip of wine. ‘So yeah – the label wants the album written by Christmas. We talked about the creative line I was taking. The last album was written during that year of floods and wildfires on a couple of the islands. I lost a good friend, and many houses and businesses were devastated. Those communities are still rebuilding and only now attracting a good level of tourism again. At the time they’d only just been recovering, financially, from the pandemic. It was a double blow.’
‘I remember,’ she said, ‘the images from the news – cars floating down streets at top speed, deer trapped in forests, and a shot of someone clinging to the roof of an ancient temple, right?’
‘Yes. That photo became a symbol of what had happened – and of strength throughout the ages. We had to follow the example of our ancestors who’d survived equally testing challenges such as wars and the anger of gods.
“Can’t Break Me” was inspired not only by how the communities pulled together, but also by our ancient heroes like Achilles. ’
He put so much of himself into his songs.
‘One of Ajax’s friends there set up a rescue centre for the tortoises and hedgehogs that got injured.
Out of horror and tragedy the human spirit emerged, shining brightly.
Other tracks on the album were inspired in the same way, like “As Long As We Stand Together” and “Wish On Tomorrow”.
Even though the album put me where I am now, I think my producer was relieved that my new work sounds… happier.’
‘A necessity as well, perhaps, given the state of the world?’
‘Exactly. Whilst empathy in art is important, a reflection of how tough life can be, so is providing joyous escapism from reality. You’d think what happened with Dad would make my muse take me in a sadder direction, but it’s been such a hard year that I’ve found relief in writing something more upbeat. It’s almost a dance album.’
‘Play me a track? I’ve been listening to more of your work since I’ve been here.’
He stopped drinking. ‘You have?’
Carrie pushed his shoulder. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not going to become a fanatic. It’s just we’ve become friends. I bet you’ve googled all you can about Manchester.’
He gave a sheepish look and she laughed.
‘Only joking. Go on, fetch that guitar.’
He disappeared into the lounge and came back, sat down again and tuned it a bit before strumming.
‘We haven’t written the words for this one yet.
’ He hummed to the tune, quiet at the beginning, melodic then catchy.
Carrie’s foot tapped in time and her fingers itched to brush against the strings. Dimitrios stopped and replayed a line.
‘Hector, my sax player, insists that bit would be amazing as the chorus. I don’t know. It’s a great way to finish.’
‘Play it again,’ she said and listened, closing her eyes.
She opened them when it was over. ‘I agree with Hector. That line gets you right here…’ She banged her fist against her chest. ‘Whilst the chorus you’ve got is memorable, and after listening to it once I could whistle it, and it makes me want to get on the dance floor…
plenty of songs do that, I’ve heard them at The Niterie and, eventually, on a night out, they merge into one.
Going by what I’ve heard of your work, it’s the emotion that makes you stand out, not the catchiness.
I don’t think you have all those fans because you make them dance…
it’s because you take them to a place, inside, that touches them deeply.
If you make that line the chorus, then this song will achieve both.
It’ll move them emotionally and physically. ’
‘Really? Right. Okay. Damn! Hector will be insufferable. He renamed “Can’t Break Me”, you know. It was originally called “Gotta Keep Going”.’
‘Giannis GoGo singing “Gotta Keep Going”. Jesus. Talk about alliteration taken to the extreme!’ she teased, and he pulled a silly face.
‘How about you? Ever written anything?’
‘Not for a long time.’ She blushed. ‘Nothing amazing. I mean, it doesn’t count when your mum loves it.’
Mum. A date was looming next week that Carrie would rather forget. A whole year. She’d been dreading June turning into July.
He leant forwards. ‘Play it to me.’
‘No way!’
‘Come on! Fair’s fair, I have played you the rawest version of one of our new tracks!’
‘And it was fantastic.’
‘Mums are very perceptive. Mine is one of my biggest fans, and when I got my contract she almost burst with pride. But in a quiet moment, one night, she warned me that my life was about to change and that I wouldn’t be prepared for some of the things that would happen, that some could be negative.
I didn’t believe her, and no one else said anything like that to me. Of course, she was right.’
‘Mums can be annoying like that. Mine warned me that going to a fancy-dress party dressed as an aubergine was a mistake. I didn’t listen, declaring I was making a feminist statement.’
He looked puzzled.
‘The sexting meaning of the emoji! You know, it representing a certain part of a man’s anatomy…’ She grinned.
Dimitrios burst out laughing. ‘Oh. My. God. I wish I had seen you dressed up like that.’
‘You don’t. Really, you don’t.’
‘So, playing a song to me can’t be worse.’
‘Fine. You asked for it. But I’m going to turn around. I can’t play facing you and see the cringes and horror at my self-indulgent masterpiece.’
‘What is it called?’
‘“Paper Cut”.’ She tuned the guitar a little and then started, her voice becoming stronger as the notes began to feel familiar.
You tossed us away like litter, lost in a crowd,
And for a second we cowered.
But paper hearts are not weak,
They may look fragile, as if they’d leak,
They may tear and curl up as if dead,
But paper can carry words stronger than lead.
Paper cuts down into flesh, deep,
It’s you, not us, who’ll weep,
Paper cuts down into flesh, deep,
It’s you, not us, who’ll weep.
‘Then it’s onto the second verse,’ Carrie said, nervously.
A hand on her shoulder. She turned around, cheeks hot, eyes shining.
‘Carrie. I’m speechless. I mean, almost; I’ve got enough words to say that was wonderful.’
‘No need to pretend!’
‘I’m not. It’s about your mum’s parents, right, disowning her – you?’
A lump formed in her throat. He’d understood.
‘I was an angry teen at times – not angry for me, I was happy with my life, but Mum… she didn’t deserve hers to be like that.
’ Then it had ended prematurely before she found love, before she had a chance to fulfil the dreams she’d had to put off – she’d had a summer funeral, not a wedding or holiday.
‘I love the idea of something as fragile-looking as paper actually cutting as a defence, using its hidden strength. The writing’s so mature for someone that young, and your playing, the musicality yet technical skill…
’ He took the guitar from her and put it down, then leant in and pressed his lips against hers.
Her body moved forwards and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
His hands travelled gently across her shoulders.
She could hardly breathe. He tasted, he smelt, like nothing she’d known.
She couldn’t define it; all Carrie knew was that she couldn’t get enough.
But then her phone rang. She tried to ignore it. It stopped and started up again. Carrie pulled away.
‘Sorry, it might be important.’ As soon as she said that, Carrie realised the truth – that no call could be from someone significant, because Mum had died, and Ariana and Rae were so distant.
She picked up her phone. What did he want? Hastily, she turned it off.
Dimitrios raised an eyebrow.
Carrie topped up their glasses. ‘Nothing. Just something to do with the cat rescue centre.’
‘Dafni?’
She took a mouthful of the wine. ‘Drago.’
‘Drago Kochev?’ His face darkened.
‘He volunteers there as well. He wanted ideas for fundraising and I told him about one I’d had this morning. I suspect that’s why he called. You okay with that?’
‘Who am I to influence what you do, Carrie? You are your own person,’ he said with sincerity.
She reached out and took his hand. ‘I’m doing it for Dafni, for the cats, but if it makes you uncomfortable… If it’s any consolation, Drago comes across as an absolute – now what was that word Nana taught me – archeedee.’
Dimitrios burst out laughing. ‘Testicle? Yes, that’s about right, a well-known Greek insult. I’m glad she is teaching you the important stuff.’ He bit his lip. ‘The fundraising is for a good cause. I get it. Come on, let’s not talk about that loser. Time for moussaka. It’s got aubergine in it.’
‘You aren’t going to let me forget that fancy-dress party, are you?’
‘Never!’
The atmosphere between them quietened down and Dimitrios left after they’d eaten and he’d washed up – he’d insisted.
‘Sorry, Carrie,’ he said in the doorway. ‘I try to forget that man, most of the time I can, but now and then I’m reminded that he still lives around here. I should be over it by now.’
‘Something traumatic happened to you and your dad – there are no rules about how long it takes to heal.’
He took her hand and kissed the palm. ‘Can you work Saturday and Sunday? One of my bartenders is off for the weekend and another has a throat infection and may not be back until Monday.’
‘Sounds great!’
He waved and walked down the hillside, past a most disappointed Nyx.
After feeding her feline friend, Carrie went back inside to ring Drago.
She needed a glass of water first. Red wine didn’t mix with the heat outside and inside her.
Boy, what a kiss. Boy, how effing annoying that Drago had interrupted them.
She headed to the sink. A pair of scissors had been left out of the kitchen drawer. Next to it, on the worktop, lay a heart cut out of baking paper.