Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Coming out of the metro station into the hustle and bustle of Monastiraki Square, Suzie stood for a moment and just took in the atmosphere.
It had been a while since she’d been to Athens, a city that always filled her with excitement.
She wouldn’t want to live here, far too hectic, but she loved to visit.
All around her, ancient buildings stood side by side with restaurants and cafés, and the covered stalls on both sides of the street, selling everything from doughnuts to handbags, led the eye all the way up to the majestic Acropolis, keeping its lonely vigil high up on the hill behind.
The smell of frying meat and sizzling herbs mingled with the sound of people chatting, traders calling out their wares and church bells chiming the half hour. It was a feast for the senses. Suzie closed her eyes for a moment.
‘Hey, mate. Watch out!’
Her son’s shout made her open them again quickly as a muscly tourist with an extremely large suitcase, staring at his phone rather than at the street in front of him, almost took her out.
Giannis linked his arm through hers.
‘Can’t leave you alone for a second, can I, Mama?’
Suzie smiled fondly at her oldest child.
‘Thank you for saving me. Let’s have coffee first, then we’ll check in the bags at our hotel, and afterwards…’
His expressive blue eyes narrowed.
‘Afterwards what?’
‘I’ve got a plan.’
‘Oh God, not sure I like the sound of that.’
An hour later, caffeined up, they were stood in front of one of the big red hop-on, hop-off sightseeing buses that lined the road in front of the square.
Giannis’s look of dismay was almost comical.
‘Mama, no! This is for tourists! Not for us.’
Her son’s reserved side made her smile. He was nothing like her, but they got on so well because of and not despite that fact. He was like a foreign country; she could never be quite sure how he’d react, as his thought patterns were so different to hers.
His brother Kostas, on the other hand, was so like her it was crazy, and they argued all the time.
Even Panos called them ‘The Twins’. The opposing personalities of her boys meant she’d never had to push Giannis to do his homework or worry about where he was in the early hours once he reached the teenage years.
On the contrary, her job had always been to lighten him up a bit, a job she was still trying to do.
Suzie handed him one of the tickets she’d just bought.
‘Oh, go on, indulge me. We haven’t done this since you and Kosta were little.’
‘Yes, exactly, since we were little.’
‘Don’t be mean. I’m just thrilled to have some time alone with my big boy.’
Giannis frowned.
‘Please don’t call me that in public.’
‘OK, grumpy. Up to the top deck with you. Hopefully we can get a seat right at the front.’
Giannis handed his ticket to the driver and stamped up the stairs, behaving exactly like the six-year-old he’d been when they last did this.
Suzie was thrilled her son had agreed to come on tour with her.
He needed a break as well. But now they were finally here in Greece’s capital city, far away from their sleepy little island, it had started to feel all too real.
They had a few hours free this afternoon before rehearsals in the morning and her first performance tomorrow evening.
Just the thought of it had her stomach in a knot.
What the hell did she think she was doing?
How could she possibly get up on stage and sing after all these years?
The thought that people were paying good money to hear her made it worse.
Yes, she’d put in plenty of practice over the last couple of weeks, but her audience had been a few sheep, a goat and a donkey. And occasionally Vicky, when she could get away from the sanctuary. It wasn’t exactly conclusive. But she couldn’t pull out now, much as part of her wanted to.
Frank the promoter would never forgive her, for one thing, after begging her to come. Professional pride wouldn’t allow her to throw in the towel, and the money would come in very handy. Focus on the money was the mantra she needed to repeat over and over again.
Distraction was the name of the game until the moment her name was called and she had to step on stage in front of an audience.
This bus ride should while away a few hours.
And at least she’d finally got rid of her horrific hangover from yesterday’s Easter celebrations.
It had taken most of the day to shift, and her stomach had still rolled ominously on the ferry.
She wasn’t a big drinker, which is why she’d got so stonkingly trollied, or that’s what she was telling herself.
Admittedly, no one had forced her to stay at Angeliki and Nick’s till nearly midnight, knowing she had to leave for Athens early the next day. Thankfully, Vicky had texted her to say she’d got home safely, after Suzie had watched her go off into the night with the irritable vet.
Nerves over the forthcoming gigs had made her knock back the booze, along with the thought that she was voluntarily placing herself back in the world of performing, the world she’d left behind all those years ago.
A world that had taken her heart, squeezed it tight for a moment and ultimately broken it. No one but she knew quite how much.
Leaving the bar in Kostas’s hands for the week wasn’t exactly relaxing either. It was the first time she’d left him in charge for so long, definitely a risky experiment, and one that she couldn’t afford to backfire.
But she needed to stop catastrophising and focus on the week ahead.
Several friends were coming over from the island to see her perform, and it would be good to have their support.
Vicky was the first and would be pitching up in two days.
Suzie had asked that no one come the first night, in case she was terrible.
But she needed to banish such negative thoughts and enjoy the opportunity to relive her youth and sing her heart out. Once it had been her favourite thing to do. It still was, deep down, and not many people got a second chance to do something they loved.
A face appeared at the top of the stairs.
‘Mama. Are you coming or not? Otherwise, I’m getting off.’
You could always rely on your family to bring you down to earth. There was no danger of getting big-headed with Giannis around.
‘Erhome. Save me a seat.’
They’d been lucky with the weather, and the sun held firm as they passed by various monuments and museums. From the top deck she had a bird’s-eye view straight into the stunning National Gardens, a free oasis in the middle of the city with its thousands of trees and bushes.
On their trips to the capital, they’d always stopped off here so the boys could have a good run around and a look at the pond to see how many water birds they could spot.
Kostas had had to be stopped from climbing into the pond every time, while Giannis took it all very seriously and learnt the names of the birds from a friendly official.
A memory of the four of them wandering through the gardens, her ex-husband with Kostas on his shoulders, Giannis holding onto her hand tight, stopped her in her tracks for a moment.
There had been plenty of good times as a family of four, just not quite enough good times for her and Panos on their own to make it last. At least they’d managed to stay friends.
She pointed over at the gardens.
‘Gianni, look! Do you remember coming here?’
His face creased into a smile when he turned to look at the gardens, which lifted her heart.
The way he’d leant back in his seat told her he was starting to relax.
She’d insisted to Frank that she and her son had separate double rooms in the hotel, rather than a twin, or two singles, before he could even suggest it.
He’d always been one to save money on the arrangements if he could, and she couldn’t believe he’d changed much over the years.
It was hardly an outrageous rider; she wasn’t asking for booze and drugs or toyboys on tap.
Just reasonably sized separate rooms and plenty of camomile teabags and honey.
It would have been weird to share with her son anyway, but as his wife Kat was also coming to see her perform, at least they’d have a nice place to stay.
Not that she wanted to count the number of people she knew who were coming.
Somehow it was worse if she knew someone in the audience.
She’d still give her performance plenty of welly, but she had a fear of catching a familiar eye and stumbling over the words.
Thankfully, it was usually impossible to see anyone clearly because of the brightness of the stage lights.
A big yawn from Giannis pulled her out of her thoughts.
As a parent, you never stopped worrying about them, however old they were.
Her eldest son worked too hard. Not that she could talk – he’d obviously picked up his work ethic from her, rather than her ex-husband, who was more of the ‘only do what’s strictly necessary’ school of thought.
The sight of Syntagma Square, formerly the old royal palace and now home to the Greek Parliament, grabbed her attention.
They were going to be lucky and catch some of the Changing of the Guard.
The soldiers, in their traditional garb of shirts and waistcoats with what looked to Suzie like white puffball skirts from the Eighties, complete with white tights and shoes with big black pom poms on the end, were a magnet for tourists and amateur photographers the world over.
‘Look, Gianni mou.’
Her son looked up momentarily, not bothering to take off his sunglasses, and just nodded before settling back down into his seat.
Further into the route, she checked their position on her phone.
‘We’re nearly at the Panathenaic Stadium!’
‘And?’
‘We’re getting off here.’
Giannis pushed his shades onto the top of his head.
‘Are we?’
‘Yes, come on. Let’s go and wait downstairs, ready to jump off. I’ve always wanted to go inside. I’m really excited to run around the track.’