Fiona thought about her father for a while. He had been such a loving, marvelous father until she brought Shane home. She wished in many ways that she could be there for her parents’ silver wedding party. But that was her father’s mistake. He had been so definite about Shane. No time must be spent thinking about it now. She must get on with her life until Shane sent for her.
She would dress as well as she could and then walk slowly down to the harbor. She did not want Elsa to think she was some kind of pathetic loser. She would show her best face.
They left David sitting on the beach, learning his ten phrases for the day. Then Vonni let the children off in the square and dropped Elsa off from her van at the harbor shortly after eleven A.M.
“Thank you for your company,” Vonni said.
“How do the people in Aghia Anna hand over their children to you, Vonni?” Elsa asked.
“I don’t know. They’ve seen me here for many years now, they believe that I am fairly reliable, I suppose.” Vonni was not at all certain.
“How many years, Vonni?”
“I came here over thirty years ago.”
“What?” Elsa said in shock.
“You asked me, I told you.” Vonni looked impassive.
“Indeed. Forgive me. I am sure you are a person who does not want people to intrude,” Elsa apologized.
“As it happens, I don’t at all mind people asking reasonable questions. I came to Aghia Anna to be with the man I loved.”
“And were you with him?” Elsa asked.
“Yes and no. I’ll tell you another time.” Vonni revved up the truck and drove away.
“Thomas!”
He looked up at her from where he sat on an old wooden box looking out the mouth of the harbor to the sea, where the wind was lifting the waves.
“Good to see you, Elsa, would you like a nice easy chair?” He pulled over another old box for her.
She sat down as elegantly as if she really were in a drawing room. He realized suddenly what a good television reporter she must be. Or had been. Never fussed or at a disadvantage, always in control.
“Your hair is damp, were you swimming?”
“Yes, a truly beautiful beach in a little lagoon about five miles away. Up that coast.” She pointed.
“Don’t tell me you’ve walked ten miles today!” He was amazed.
“No, shamefully, Vonni drove me both ways. We met David there, he’s the fit one—he has actually rented a bicycle. Am I imagining it, Thomas, or is the sea much more attractive here than anywhere else?”
“It sure beats my part of California, anyway. Very flat where we are. Nice sunsets but no surf, no changing colors like this.”
“You don’t want to think about the sea in Germany, freezing cold up there by Holland and Denmark. Certainly not like this. No wonder people get inspired by the place. I mean I know it’s meant to be a reflection of the sky, but don’t tell me that water isn’t dark blue.”
“ ‘Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean,—roll . . . ,’ ” Thomas quoted.
To his astonishment Elsa continued: “ ‘Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; / Man marks the earth with ruin,—his control / Stops with the shore.’ ”
He looked at her openmouthed. “You can quote English poetry. How dare you be so well educated!”
Elsa laughed, pleased at the praise.
“We had an English teacher at school who loved Byron. I think she was in love with him, actually. If you had picked another poet I wouldn’t have done so well!”
“But I mean it. I couldn’t quote you one verse of German poetry, not a line. What am I talking about, German poetry? I can’t even speak a word of the German language.”
“Yes, you can, you said Wunderbar, and Prost last night,” she consoled him.
“I think I said Prost a little too often last night, as it happens . . . Oh, I’ve remembered another German word. Reisefieber.”
Elsa pealed with laughter. “What a marvelous word to know . . . How on earth do you know that?”
“It means ‘journey fever,’ doesn’t it? Being in a panic at airports and railway stations?”
“That’s exactly what it means, Thomas. Imagine you knowing that!” She was impressed.
“There was a guy on the faculty who kept coming up with great words like that; we all took them over.”
They sat companionably together as if they had known each other all their lives. No wonder the fishermen had thought they had been friends forever.
Vonni drove the van back to Maria’s house. Maria was sitting at the table in front of an empty coffee cup.
“It’s getting harder, not easier,” she said. “I thought that was Manos coming back in his van.”
“Of course it’s getting harder; it’s sinking in and that’s what hurts so much.” Vonni hung up the keys on a hook on the wall and then produced a pot of hot coffee and some flaky baklava she had bought at the taverna across the road.
Maria looked up with her tearstained face. “You always know what people want,” she said gratefully.
“I don’t, indeed. Me? I get it wrong and make more mistakes than the whole of Aghia Anna put together,” Vonni protested.
“I can’t remember any,” Maria said.
“That’s because you’re too young. My more spectacular mistakes were made before you were born.”
Vonni moved around the kitchen, picking up things here and there, rinsing cups, restoring order without seeming to. Then she sat down. “The dancing was beautiful last night. He would have loved it,” she said.
“I know.” Maria was weeping now. “And last night I felt strong and as if his spirit were still here. That feeling has gone today.”
“Well it might come back when I tell you my plan,” Vonni said, passing her a piece of kitchen paper to dry her tears.
“Plan?”
“Yes. I’m going to teach you how to drive.”
Maria actually managed a weak, watery smile. “Drive? Me drive? Vonni, stop joking. Manos wouldn’t even let me hold the keys of the van.”
“But he would want you to drive now, I know he would.”
“No, Vonni, he wouldn’t. He’d think I’d kill myself and everyone in Aghia Anna.”
“Well, we’ll have to prove him wrong then,” Vonni said. “Because you’ll have to drive for your new job.”
“Job?”
“Oh yes, you’re going to help me in the shop, aren’t you? And a lot of your work will involve driving to places like Kalatriada and collecting stuff. Save me trekking miles on buses.”
“But you can drive there in the van, Vonni, it’s just standing there.”
“No, I can’t. Manos would hate that; he saved long and hard for that van, he wouldn’t want you just handing it away. No, he’d be so proud of you if you used it for your work.”
And magically Maria smiled again. A real smile this time. It was as if she saw his spirit back in the house again and that she was squaring up to him as she had done so often when he was alive.
“Right, Manos, this is going to amaze you,” she said.
David came across them during the driving lesson up in a big patch of waste ground at the top of the town.
“Siga, siga!” Vonni was screaming as the van jerked and shuddered.
“What does that mean, siga? . . . I’ve often heard it,” David asked, interested.
“Well, you never heard it said with such fervor as this time.” Vonni got out of the van, mopped her brow, and took some deep breaths.
Maria sat gripping the steering wheel as if her hands had been glued to it. “It means ‘slow down,’ but the lady doesn’t get the concept.”
“That’s the wife of Manos, isn’t it?” David peered at the woman still clutching the wheel.
“God knows I never thought of myself as in any way coordinated, but compared to herself there, I could be a Formula One driver,” Vonni said, closing her eyes momentarily.
“Does she need to drive?” David asked.
“I thought so this morning. Now I’m not so sure. But of course I had to open my big mouth and suggest it, so now we have to keep at it.” Vonni sighed.
“I taught my mother to drive when no one else could—three driving schools gave up on her,” David said slowly. ”Perhaps I could give it a go?”
“How did you do it?” Vonni said, with hope beginning to show in her eyes.
“I was very patient, I never raised my voice once, and I spent hours on the clutch,” he said.
“Would you, David? Oh, dear good kind David, please would you?”
“Sure. If it would help. You’ll have to tell me the words for brake and accelerator and gears, though.”
He wrote them down in his notebook and went over to the van. Maria looked at him doubtfully as he sat in beside her. “Kalimera,” he said formally and shook hands. “How do you say ‘Let’s go’?” he asked Vonni.
“Pa-may, but don’t say it yet or she’ll drive you splat into that wall.”
“Pa-may, Maria,” David said gently, and with a lurch they moved forward.
Vonni looked on, amazed. She watched as he taught Maria to stop the car. He really did have a gift. The look of terror was leaving Maria’s face. “Drive her home when you’ve finished, will you?” Vonni said.
“What about my bike?”
“I’ll cycle down on it and leave it for you at Maria’s house.”
Before he could answer she had swung her leg over the bicycle and was heading off down to the town.
David turned back to his pupil. “Pa-may again, Maria,” he said gently, and this time she started the car without stalling it.
Fiona sat at a table outside the little café and was amazed to see Vonni streaking by on a bike.
Vonni saw her and did a wheely turn to come back. “All on your own?” she asked.
“I’m meeting Elsa here at midday.”
“Oh yes, Elsa did tell me. She helped me take the children for a swim.”
“Did she?” Fiona sounded envious.
“Yes, and David came by on his bicycle. He lent it to me; I’m just leaving it at Maria’s house for him. David’s taking his life in his hands and teaching Maria to drive.”
“Lord, everyone’s really settling in.” Fiona was wistful.
Vonni leaned David’s bike against one of the empty tables. “I’ll sit with you until Elsa arrives,” she said.
Fiona was pleased. “Will you have an ouzo?” she asked.
“No, just a metrio, a little coffee,” Vonni said.
They sat there peacefully watching the life of the harbor around them. That was an interesting thing about Vonni, Fiona observed. She had a great sense of stillness. She knew that you don’t need to talk all the time. It was very restful. “Vonni?”
“Yes, Fiona.”
“I was wondering—could I get some kind of a job here in Aghia Anna? I could learn Greek. I could help Dr. Leros. What do you think?”
“Why do you want to stay here?” Vonni’s voice was gentle.
“It’s beautiful here and I want to be sort of settled when Shane comes back for me.”
Vonni said nothing at all.
“You think he might not come back, don’t you?” Fiona cried. “Like everyone else, you judge a book by its cover, you don’t know him like I do.”
“True.”
“Believe me, Vonni, he has never in his whole life had anyone who understood him until he met me.”
Vonni leaned forward and moved Fiona’s hair gently from her face to reveal the bruise. “And he took a fine way to show you how much he appreciated that you understood him,” she said.
Fiona pulled back angrily. “That’s not the way it is, he is heartbroken that he raised his hand to me, I know that.”
“Sure.”
“Don’t be so lofty and patronizing, I’ve had enough of that from everyone at home.”
“Everyone that loves you, I imagine.”
“It’s not real love, it’s choking claustrophobia, and wanting everyone to settle down and marry a civil servant or a bank clerk and get a mortgage and have two children.”
“I know.” Vonni sounded sympathetic.
“So if you know, why don’t you believe that Shane will come back for me?”
“You really believe he will?”
“Well, of course I do. We love each other, we went away together forever. Why wouldn’t he come back?”
Vonni swallowed and looked away.
“No, please, tell me. I’m sorry I shouted at you, Vonni, I just get so upset when people come out against Shane, I keep thinking that this is going to go on forever until we are an old, old couple. Perhaps you know something I don’t.”
She looked so anxious; she had her hand on Vonni’s weather-beaten arm, her eyes were wide, wanting to know more.
Vonni paused. After all, she was responsible for Shane going to Athens; she had advised the police chief, Georgi, to ship him away from Aghia Anna. She did therefore owe Fiona some kind of explanation, but what could she tell her but bad news?
Georgi had given Shane a card with the address and phone number of the police station. Andreas had said he offered Shane a pen and paper to write a note before he got on the ferry and he had refused it. None of this would bring Fiona any cheer.
“No, I don’t think I know anything that you don’t,” Vonni said slowly. “But I was going to suggest that Shane might not expect you to stay on here, you know, without him. If he does contact you . . .”
“He will, of course he will.”
“When he does contact you then, he might contact you back in Dublin. Isn’t that a possibility?”
“No, he’d know I’d never go back there, back to them, and admit they were right. Shane knows me too well, he’d never think of ringing me back there. No, one day he’ll get off one of those ferries. I want to be here and settled when he does.”
“It’s not realistic, Fiona, this is a holiday place. Not a place to settle down in.”
“You did,” Fiona said simply.
“It was different then.”
“Why was it different then?”
“It was, that’s all, and I came here not on my own like you are but to live with a man from Aghia Anna.”
“You did?”
“I did indeed, years and years ago. There were hardly any tourists here then. I was considered very unusual, a slut of course. In those days people here as well as at home got engaged and married and everything.” Vonni looked out to sea remembering it all, a different time.
“So then you know it’s possible to leave Ireland and come to a beautiful place like this and be happy?” Fiona was eager, trying desperately to find similarities between them.
“In a way,” Vonni said.
“You’re not going to tell me you regret it,” Fiona said. “You’re part of the place here, it must have been the right decision.”
“No, heavens no, what a waste of time regretting is, it must be the most useless emotion of all time.” Then she fell silent again.
Fiona felt daring and asked her a direct question. “And what happened to the . . . er . . . man . . . from Aghia Anna?”
Vonni looked her straight in the eye. “Stavros? I don’t know really,” she said and closed down the conversation.
Vonni said she had a hundred things to do and she wanted to thank God above that one of them was not giving Maria a driving lesson.
“Are you all right here on your own?” she asked Fiona.
“I’m fine, and thank you so much for being so kind,” Fiona said politely. She was glad that the older woman was leaving. She should not have asked Vonni what happened to her man.
She saw Elsa coming toward her and waved.
“I’ll leave you in good hands, then,” Vonni said and left.
Elsa sat down and told Fiona about the morning on the beach. They ordered a salad and talked easily about life on this island. Just as they were finishing they saw an old van come sputtering past them. It was bein
g driven somewhat erratically by Maria; David was in the passenger seat. They watched as he opened the car door for her, patted her encouragingly on the back, and finally bent over and kissed her hand.
“God, isn’t he going to make someone a wonderful husband!” Elsa said admiringly.
“Yeah, isn’t it a tragedy that we can’t in a million years fall for people like that,” Fiona said with a heavy sigh.
For some reason they both found it funny and were still laughing when David cycled by. He came in to join them.
“Was she dreadful? Vonni said she was a nightmare.”
“Vonni exaggerates. She’s okay, nervous and naturally very upset about everything. Vonni’s going to give her a job when she can drive. She’s one amazing woman.”
Fiona was going to tell them about the man, Stavros, all those years ago. But then she decided against it. Vonni was very private about things. Elsa too was about to tell of Vonni coming to the island over thirty years ago to be with a man. But she thought it was Vonni’s secret so she said nothing.
The sun was setting and there was a gold-red light over the harbor. Thomas saw that Vonni was still working in her craft shop. He thought about going in to invite her to come up for an evening drink with him. But he remembered how much she liked to be left alone. She had only agreed to sleep in the spare bedroom after a lot of reassurance that they would not intrude on each other’s lives. Yet he did not want to go up to that apartment and be by himself. He wanted to call Bill.
It had been left so awkwardly hanging in the air the last time. He still felt stung by Vonni overhearing him and saying that he had made such a mess of it all. This time he would say the right things.
Thomas sat down in a small street café and made a list of things he would talk about. Dinner in a police station beside prisoners’ cells. Men coming out to dance after the funeral. Germans learning English poetry even though we didn’t know any of theirs. He looked at the headings. What dull, odd things he had picked to talk about. A child would not be interested in these things. Maybe he would think it odd that his father was eating dinner beside prisoners’ cells. He would be startled to hear that men danced together, and particularly at a funeral. What did Bill care about poetry in English or German?