Chapter 18 #2
The following morning, planning to go exploring, I picked up a coffee and flatbread on my way to the bus stop.
The sky was silvery where the sun was rising, the breeze cooler than yesterday and as I walked, I had a spring in my step.
The still night hours had provided the perfect resolution to the Gareth-and-the-house dilemma.
I had no obligation to dance to his tune. It was as Nicos said. It could wait.
Sitting on the bus, I took in the other passengers.
Greeks of all ages, a mother and two young children; then I gazed out of the window.
It was funny, but already, I was adjusting.
And OK, it still felt a little odd, but no longer was I starting each day with a long list of chores.
Washing sofa cushions that were still clean from last time, scrubbing the spare bathroom that never got used.
Blitzing an already spotless house before dutifully calling my father – that’s if Rick hadn’t made an appearance. Here, I had none of that.
Thinking of my dad, I sighed. There was no way he would ever understand what I was doing here in Crete. As far as I knew, he still believed it was my fault that Gareth decided to leave me. And I hoped my dad was OK. But, at least for now, he wasn’t my responsibility.
If that made me selfish, so be it. There was nothing wrong in clawing back a little time for myself.
There couldn’t be many better ways to spend it, either, than discovering a new and beautiful corner of this world.
I took in the little villages we passed, the herds of goats, and rocky hills; the views of the shimmering sea.
Then before I knew it, we reached the village of Platanias.
Getting off the bus, I found myself in a quiet street. The bus stop wasn’t far from the sea. But today, I had something else in mind. Getting out my map, I put my trust in my map-reading skills and started walking.
It wasn’t long before I reached my destination. And yes, maybe it was one of the nostalgic attacks that used to drive Gareth up the wall. But as it came into view, I just stared at it, in wonder. I mean, even in Greece, there was nothing quite like a deserted railway station.
* * *
‘An old railway station always makes me think about what life must have been like. When it was still running,’ I said to Nicos that evening.
He looked bemused. ‘I think back then, you would find that life was hard. But if you like history, you must go to Knossos – and Rethymno. You will find a feast for your eyes there.’
‘Sure,’ I said, mentally making a note. ‘But I suppose the thing about railway stations is that they’re in the recent past. I mean, they’re not that old, are they? I always think getting on a train is like embarking on an adventure. All those sights you never get to see from anywhere else.’
‘We have not had trains in a long time.’ Nicos gave me a strange look. ‘We walk, and we have cars and buses. It is an island, Tilly.’ He frowned. ‘I do not understand.’
I sighed. ‘I suffer from nostalgia, Nicos. I like things that remind me of the past – mostly my past. I also happen to like railway stations.’
‘Then I am pleased for you. But the past…’ He hesitated. ‘It is gone. Now, things are different. In many ways, this is good. You must excuse me. I have to work.’
‘I know.’ Knowing he didn’t get it, I watched him go inside the bar, then turned my attention to the harbour just as an old man shuffled into view. He looked unsteady as he made his way along the harbour front. Then just metres away from me, he stumbled and fell.
I got up and rushed over, realising he was the old man I’d noticed on the ferry on my way here. ‘Are you OK?’ Completely forgetting he probably didn’t speak English.
Grimacing, he tried to sit up, then slumped back.
‘Stay there.’ I held his arm, looking around for help just as Nicos came out of the bar. ‘Nicos?’ I called out. ‘I need your help. Quickly.’
Looking towards me, he came hurrying over. Crouching down, he spoke in Greek to the old man, before turning to me. ‘I know him. His name is Michail…’ He frowned. ‘Did you see what happened?’
‘One minute he was just walking along. Then he seemed to collapse.’
Nicos spoke in Greek to the man again, before looking at me. ‘We will try to get him on his feet.’
We each took one of his arms and tried to help Michail up. But it soon became apparent, he was in too much pain.
Nicos looked worried. ‘Can you stay with him? I will call the ambulance.’
I took off my jacket, folded it and put it under the man’s head. ‘You’ll be OK,’ I said – in English, obviously. But a reassuring voice, even one you couldn’t understand, I figured had to be better than nothing. ‘Nicos is getting help. Someone will be here soon.’
Nicos was soon back, carrying a blanket which he draped over the man. ‘That is good,’ he said, nodding towards my jacket-pillow. ‘They should not be long.’
Michail’s eyes fluttered open briefly and he said something in Greek, wincing as he tried to reach something in one of his pockets. After taking out a key, his hand was weak as he pushed it towards Nicos. Then closing his eyes, he was still.
Noticing the colour of his skin, alarm bells were going off. ‘Something’s wrong, Nicos. Where’s the ambulance?’
Nico felt his wrist. ‘His pulse is very weak.’ He shook his head. ‘They will be here as soon as they can.’
The longest five minutes passed – and that’s really all it was. Five minutes, before the ambulance arrived. Filled with relief, I stood back and watched the paramedics check him over, before expertly moving him onto a stretcher.
Nicos picked up my folded-up jacket and passed it to me, as one of the paramedics spoke to him. Then we stood there watching as they drove away.
‘Poor Michail,’ Nicos said. ‘He lives alone – on the edge of Chania. I must call his daughter. She lives in Heraklion.’ He frowned.
‘For a long time now, his legs have not been good. I have no idea what he was thinking, coming all this way.’ Then he glanced at a bag Michail must have dropped.
Picking it up, he looked inside. ‘This is why,’ he said, showing it to me.
‘He came to buy fish. I will put it in his freezer – he has given me his key. He has a cat, and a few chickens. He wants me to ask his neighbour if they’ll feed them. ’
‘I could do it.’ The words were out before I could stop them. But when it came to helping others, there was no stopping me. ‘Until he’s out of hospital – if you show me where he lives?’
‘You would do that for a stranger?’ Nicos looked surprised.
I didn’t know Michail. But wasn’t it how the world worked, people rallying round at times like this? ‘Nicos. Look at me. I’m not busy. And I’m good at helping people,’ I added.
‘Maybe you are a little Greek,’ he said. ‘We help each other – families, friends.’
‘Maybe I am.’ Liking how that sounded, I smiled at him.
But there was no time to stand still. ‘We will go in my car,’ Nicos said.
‘But Nicos,’ I said, ‘don’t you have to work?’
He shrugged. ‘The restaurant is not busy. It is October, Tilly.’ He said it as if I was a particularly stupid person. ‘You are ready?’
* * *
Michail’s house was a five or six minute drive away, and I tried to memorise the route as Nicos turned up a narrow, uneven street of terraced houses, then pulled over and parked at the side.
‘It is this one.’
I took in the peeling blue paint as he nodded towards a front door. Then I followed him as he unlocked it and went inside. The house was in darkness and after finding a switch, the single bulb dimly lit what appeared to be a small living room.
‘Come.’ Nicos walked through a doorway into a bigger, untidy kitchen with a door that opened onto a surprisingly large garden. He switched on an outside light. ‘Here comes the cat.’
A large black and white cat trotted across the garden, followed by a couple of others, one ginger and one black.
‘In Greece, there is never just one cat,’ Nicos said ruefully.
After opening a few cupboards and finding the cat food, he put it down then went outside, where a handful of scrawny chickens appeared out of the shadows. ‘Michail keeps them in there.’ Nicos nodded towards a flimsy chicken run. ‘If we feed them, hopefully they will follow us.’
I watched as he successfully herded the chickens into the run and closed the door, then after checking inside the chicken house, came back holding three eggs.
‘You should take these,’ he said.
I shook my head. ‘Thank you, Nicos. But you are forgetting. I don’t have any way of cooking right now.’
‘Of course.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘But who knows. It is possible this will change.’
I stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Today, things are like this. But you do not know what tomorrow will bring.’ He locked the back door and I noticed the cat flap. ‘None of us know,’ he said cryptically. ‘We are done here.’
I followed him out to the car where he handed over the key to Michail’s house. ‘If you are sure you can do this, I know Michail will thank you.’
‘It’s fine.’ My heart was already warming at the thought of being able to do something to help.
I mean, it was true what I said to Nicos – it wasn’t like I was exactly busy.
And it was a basic human need, wasn’t it?
To have a purpose? Anyway, it wouldn’t be for long.
Just a day or so, until Michail was home.
Then I frowned. ‘What did you mean back there? About things changing?’
‘I was thinking if you like it here, you might stay.’ He started the car. ‘Who knows? But it is one of life’s greatest certainties, Tilly. Surely you must know. That things always change.’