Rebecca fell into a deep sleep and woke refreshed. Her first thought: she was having twins! Fritz loved her! Life was truly wonderful. She tossed the covers aside, pulled on her clothes, and headed for the beach. When she reached the old cement pillbox, she sat on a rock with her back against the gun-shelter and gazed out to sea. Everything had changed since the terrible day of her departure so long ago.
She recalled taking Fritz home to meet Bubba. She’d met him at college in Athens and it was love at first sight. Yet the moment he walked through the cottage door, Bubba had gone ballistic. She jumped to her feet and stared at Fritz. He stepped towards her, smiling, with his hand stretched out, but before he could speak, she said coldly, ‘Get out of my house. You are not welcome here.’
Rebecca was confused and embarrassed. ‘But, Bubba, this is Fritz. We want to get engaged.’
‘What?!’ Bubba cried. ‘No granddaughter of mine will marry a Nazi!’ She rushed at Fritz.
Naomi grabbed her and said, ‘Bubba, calm down! What’s going on?’
‘Get him out of here!’
‘I’m leaving,’ Fritz said, then turning to Naomi, ‘I’m sorry.’ He touched Rebecca’s arm and said, ‘I’ll see you later.’
When he’d gone, Rebecca said she couldn’t believe the terrible thing Bubba had shouted at Fritz. He wasn’t a Nazi. Her grandmother was consumed by rage and hatred the likes of which she had never seen. Naomi managed to calm Bubba a little, and Rebecca was so upset, but then her own anger flared and she retaliated. She called Bubba a small-minded Jewish bigot. And it was Bubba’s turn to shed tears.
Despite Naomi’s effort to sooth them both, trying to put each point of view to the other, things escalated over the next few days until Bubba, refusing to explain the reason for her animosity, forbade Rebecca to see Fritz. If she did, she was no part of Bubba’s family.
With that ultimatum, Rebecca retaliated with words she had regretted ever since. Then, she packed a bag and left.
Thinking about it on the Paradissi shore, she realised how difficult the situation had been for Naomi, living in the same house and loving them both.
Memories of her childhood returned, Naomi, always there, looking after her.
Put your clothes higher up the beach. Don’t go in too deep. Put your sandals back on, as there might be broken glass between the pebbles.
Good old Naomi, she’d been sister, mother, and friend; and nothing was ever too much trouble.
*
Naomi had found the diary and caught up to Rebecca’s bookmark again while she had her morning coffee. Poor, poor Dora. With such a lot to do, Naomi reluctantly closed the journal and traipsed upstairs to make Rebecca’s bed. She folded back the sheet, smoothed the pillow and stared at it, imagining her grandmother’s emotions when she uncovered the face of her most beloved friend, Irini in her earthy grave.
‘Phone!’ Bubba called.
‘I’ve got it,’ Naomi replied, rushing downstairs.
‘Hi, Mama!’ Angelos, her eldest son calling from Cyprus. Instantly alarming.
‘Angelos! Is everything all right?’
‘Yes, don’t worry. Just to let you know we’ll be home tomorrow.’
‘Lovely . . . but . . . why? What about your jobs? Are you sure everything’s okay?’ Both sons worked for a dive centre in Cyprus during the university’s summer break.
‘We’re fine, Mama. The water sports shut down for a fortnight. There was an explosion but we’re fine. We’ll see you soon, bye.’
‘What? Wait! An explosion? What happened?’
‘The dive centre’s short-staffed, Mama. Konstantinos was filling dive tanks when he was called away to give a windsurfing lesson. I was out with the boss and a paraglider. Nobody turned the compressor off so eventually the cylinder exploded.’ He paused to laugh. ‘Took all the legs of the wetsuits. Blew one of the walls out too.’
Naomi thought of Konstantinos’s legs and clutched her stomach. What if he’d returned to the hut at that moment? ‘Was anyone hurt?’
‘Nah! Don’t worry. See you later.’
‘Bye. Love you,’ she said, but he’d already hung up. An explosion! She stood, scratching her head and staring around the kitchen. Where would her boys sleep? Rebecca occupied their room. She glanced around the four-by-four-metre kitchen. If she slept in the kitchen, the boys in her room, Rebecca in the boys’ room, and Bubba in the lounge, they could manage. At least until Costa came home for the court case.
Everything seemed a problem lately. Perhaps she should have listened to the builder and had the new bathroom built at the back, instead of taking up the third bedroom. But Naomi hadn’t wanted to lose space in her yard where an ancient grapevine and her pots of tomatoes flourished. Anyway, too late now.
Naomi had not laundered her own sheets for a month. She hardly had time to straighten the bed, never mind change the bedding. At night she fell in, exhausted, and before dawn she tumbled out with a mental list of urgent tasks. She suddenly rushed upstairs and dragged the white bedding off. She should vacuum. Her heart thudded – palpitations – she flopped into the mattress clutching the bunched-up sheets to her chest.
The musky scent of Costa rose from the bedding. She buried her face in the linen and inhaled. How she missed him. The sweetness of making love in the dark returned to her. The comfort of Costa’s arms and sweet dreams without a care. Naomi smiled and her heartbeat slowed. In less than a fortnight he’d be home for the court case. In the bathroom, she shoved the laundry onto a quick-wash cycle.
In the kitchen, Naomi stared at the back wall. A two-metre-long stone banquette, used in the old days as a bed or seat, was covered in clutter. Bubba’s old sewing machine, Angelo’s mandolin and music books, a stack of cushions, and an ancient contraption for spinning wool. At the other end stood Costa’s metal toolbox, Konstantinos’s plastic fishing box and a couple of collapsed beach casters.
Naomi glanced at the cheap clock hanging over the banquette. Time to prepare some food. She’d placed a kilo of beef to marinate in red wine the day before, and now she set about peeling tiny onions. Once the ingredients for Kapamás were in the casserole, she had to get Bubba to bed for her mid-morning nap. The old lady laughed at something on TV and Naomi regretted not having spent more time with her grandmother.
Rebecca waltzed in. ‘Gosh, I’d forgotten how lovely the beach is,’ she said breezily. ‘If I were you I’d be there every day, Naomi. It’s not good for you to be cooped up in here. I’m absolutely famished, must be the fresh air . . . and the twins.’ She grinned, squeezed Naomi around the waist, and Naomi felt happy for her. ‘What’s for lunch?’ Rebecca asked innocently.
Naomi blinked and returned to the drudgery. ‘I have no idea. I’ve still got the washing to hang out, the beds to make, the plants to water and Bubba to see to. Aromatic beef in red wine and garlic potatoes with juniper berries for dinner okay?’ she quipped sarcastically.
‘Delicious! But, you really do have to get organised, Sis. Let me look after the lunch. Where’s the nearest takeaway?’
‘Top of the street turn left, four doors down.’
‘Back in a moment.’ Rebecca rushed out.
Ten minutes later she returned. ‘Right, Papas Yiannis and Heleny are coming to eat with us. What’s the phone number of the takeaway? I’ll order some food.’
‘I have no idea. You’ll have to walk round there.’ Naomi tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice. ‘ ’Scuse me while I empty the washing machine, peg out, make the beds and peel the potatoes. I hope I’ve got enough plates and cutlery for everyone. I don’t suppose you could water the tomatoes?’
Busy thumbing her iPhone, Rebecca wasn’t listening. ‘Ah, here it is! I’ll place an order. Is there anything you fancy?’
Naomi shook her head.
‘Right. Pork giros, Greek salad, tzatziki, garlic bread, baklava and ice cream, okay?’
Naomi nodded. ‘Just getting the washing,’ she said going up to the bathroom. ‘Back in a moment.’
‘Naomi, you really should take it easy. Now, I’ll sit with Bubba and watch TV with her for a bit. Could you set the table ready for lunch? That would be great!’
She’s pregnant; her head’s in the clouds, Naomi thought. Breathe in and count to ten.
Papas Yiannis and Heleny arrived just before the food. Rebecca made a fuss of the delivery boy, but then asked Naomi for help when he wouldn’t accept Rebecca’s credit card. Fifty-three euros, almost all the money Naomi had in the house – what was left of Bubba’s pension and all Naomi’s money from Pandora’s Box.
Everyone enjoyed themselves and said how lovely it was of Rebecca to do this. Naomi caught a look from Bubba and sat by her side.
‘Remember: she’ll be gone soon, and then you’ll be sad,’ Bubba said quietly, understanding and patting the back of Naomi’s hand.
Papas Yiannis was leaving. He turned in the doorway. ‘Thank you, Rebecca. That’s the best food I’ve had for a long time.’
‘Me too,’ Heleny agreed.
Bubba patted the back of Naomi’s hand again. ‘They’re just being nice.’
‘Yes, it was lovely, Rebecca,’ Naomi said, heartbroken that all the money she’d made from the products had gone.
Rebecca beamed. ‘My pleasure.’ She turned to her grandmother. ‘Come on, Bubba, let’s watch some TV and de-stress.’
Naomi gathered the dishes, avoiding the urge to make a clatter or throw something. The room emptied. She heard Rebecca and Bubba giggling at the TV with a backdrop of canned laughter. Alone with the chores once more, Naomi experienced a wave of exhaustion.
‘Could you stick the kettle on, Sis? We’re parched,’ Rebecca called from behind the rug that hung over the archway.
Clamping her mouth shut, Naomi pulled her hands out of the dishwater, wiped them down her skirt and marched out of the front door. Suddenly finding herself without direction or purpose, she headed for the beach. When did her sister become so thoughtless? She told herself to calm down, that Rebecca meant no harm, that she was simply too happy to think straight. Still, nobody liked being taken for granted.
Five hundred steps and she would turn around. She paced, hard and fast, wishing with all her heart Costa was home. He’d be serving afternoon tea to guests right now, the cruiser moored at Mykonos.
Naomi sat on a rock and gazed out to sea. She recalled her honeymoon on that island and wondered if it had changed much. In each other’s arms, they’d watched from the top ferry deck as it approached the harbour.
The small island had shone, a jewel in the turquoise Aegean. Square white houses clustered around the port, like sugar cubes thrown at the landscape. They visited blue-domed churches and expensive gift shops, drank coffee on a Juliet balcony that hung over the sea, and walked up to the pristine, thatched windmills which stood to attention in a row.
That week was filled with love and happiness. Both thrilled to have a baby on the way. With that memory, her heart went out to her sister. She must have suffered terribly. To miscarry, to have her dreams shattered over and over again. Slightly ashamed to have got in a tizzy about Rebecca’s thoughtlessness, she abandoned the walk and returned home.
The problem was that since Rebecca’s return, Naomi had felt strangely invisible, and as lonely as she’d ever been. She loved Rebecca very much, yet somehow her sister seemed to sap Naomi’s lifeblood. She should get back and produce some candles and cream, as that always lifted her mood, but there were so many other jobs to be done first.
She arrived home refreshed, telling herself not to be so silly.
Rebecca was making a drink. ‘Ah, there you are. I wondered where you’d gone,’ she said.
‘I need a hug.’ Naomi wrapped her arms around her sister. ‘It was kind of you to get food for everyone, Rebecca. Thanks.’
‘I’ll give you the money back tomorrow, Naomi. Sorry about that. How embarrassing!’ She handed a mug of tea over.
‘Thanks. It wouldn’t matter but I am a bit short this month. Big phone bill. You know how it is?’
Rebecca shrugged and blinked, bewildered. ‘Do you need some help?’
‘No, no. I’m fine really. Costa’s wages will go in the bank next week,’ Naomi said quickly.
‘Tell me what you want to cook tomorrow and I’ll do the shopping,’ Rebecca offered.
‘Great, that would free up an hour. I have some orders to take care of.’
‘I hope you don’t mind; I’ve put my laundry in the machine, but I’m not sure how it works. Would you do it for me?’
Naomi took a breath. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Could you be careful ironing the pink blouse though? It cost a fortune.’
Naomi’s self-control snapped. ‘What?! You expect me to do your ironing too! You’re taking advantage now. What do you do at home?’
‘I have an ironing lady. Please, Sis. I’m useless.’
‘No! I’m not your bloody servant, Rebecca! It was different when we were kids, but you’re an adult now. Do your own laundry. The ironing board’s in my wardrobe, okay?’
‘Right then. I will.’ Rebecca stuck her lip out and rushed upstairs.
While she finished washing the dishes, Naomi heard Rebecca clattering about above her. Suddenly aware of a long silence, she called up, ‘Did you find it? Are you all right?’ No answer. She hurried upstairs. A whimper came from the bedroom. ‘Rebecca, is everything okay?’
Rebecca’s head was buried in her hands. ‘I’m so sorry, Naomi. I can’t think straight. It’s as if I have to be horrible to block out whatever’s happening at home.’
Naomi sat beside her and slipped an arm around her sister’s shoulders. ‘And what exactly is going on at home? You used to tell me everything, Rebecca. What’s changed that’s making you so unhappy?’
‘It’s Fritz. I don’t know what’s going on. He’s deceiving me.’
‘What?! You mean there’s another woman?’ she said softly.
‘No. At least, I don’t think so. But I’m not sure about anything these days.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘Tell me: did you and Bubba send more than one letter?’
Naomi nodded. ‘Bubba wrote to you over and over again, but she never received a reply and I’m sure you’ll understand how much it hurt.’
‘That’s it, you see. I only ever got one letter. And now there are these Mondays.’
‘Mondays? Sorry, you’ve lost me.’
‘Every first Monday of the month, Fritz goes to the office before daybreak and doesn’t return until near ten in the evening.’ She wiped her eyes and faced Naomi. ‘Last month I called his office, which is something I don’t normally do. They told me he never works on the first Monday of the month. Where does he go, Naomi? I’m frantic, all sorts of things are going through my head.’
‘Did you call his mobile?’
Rebecca nodded. ‘Turned off.’
‘Why don’t you ask him about it? Talk it through.’
‘I’m afraid, Naomi. I’m such a coward. Every day for the past month I’ve thought about asking him, but he must have a reason for not wanting me to know. I couldn’t bear to lose him. What can be so important that he thinks he has to deceive me for so long? Now I find out about the letters. Fritz must have taken them; there’s no other explanation. To top it all off, I’m hopeless at confrontation. I keep fretting about it and also about the lives of our children growing inside me.’ She sighed. ‘No stress, it’s so easy to say.’
They sat in silence for a while, then Naomi said, ‘Do you want me to speak to him?’ This was the wrong thing to do. She shouldn’t interfere, but she couldn’t stand to see Rebecca in such a state.
‘Would you?’ She faced Naomi. ‘I can’t do it. Just can’t. Whatever’s going on, I suspect he might prefer to tell you instead of me and let you break it to me gently. I know Fritz. At least I think I do. He won’t tell me anything over the phone.’
Naomi chastised herself, she’d done it again. Rebecca should stand on her own two feet and take care of her own problems, yet it broke Naomi’s heart to see her so distressed. ‘Give me your phone and I’ll call him.’
Bubba looked up as Naomi came downstairs. ‘Is she all right?’
‘She wants her husband. Would you let Fritz come, Bubba?’
Bubba stared at the wall for the longest time and then finally nodded.
Naomi sat at the kitchen table, scrolled through Rebecca’s numbers, and called Fritz’s mobile.
‘Rebecca, darling,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion.
‘It’s Naomi, Fritz. I need to talk to you.’
‘She hasn’t. . . Rebecca and the babies, are they all right?’
‘Yes, fine. Don’t panic. It’s about Rebecca I’m calling. She’s upset, Fritz. She needs some explanations.’
‘Oh, Naomi.’ From his subdued voice, she understood he too was distressed. ‘I need to talk to her, but not over the phone. I’d like to come over? Some things have happened, and right now I probably need her as much as she needs me.’
‘I’ll book you both into a local hotel, so you have some privacy. When will you come?’
‘I can be there this evening, if that’s okay?’
‘Text your arrival time, and we’ll meet you in the airport lobby.’
‘Thank you, Naomi.’
Naomi hung up and realised Bubba was staring. ‘No, before you ask, I have no idea what this is all about.’ She glanced at the small picture of Filerimos over the phone. ‘You had a really hard time in the war, didn’t you?’
Bubba nodded. ‘Not as awful as some.’ She spread her fingers and then touched her thumb and index fingers in an okay sign. ‘Look at that! I’ll be playing the piano before you can shake a baton.’
Naomi grinned. ‘You won’t need me. I’ll be redundant.’
‘Pity I don’t have my old Remington anymore. I was good at touch-typing. I’d like to write more songs and poems too.’
Naomi recalled Bubba as an attractive woman, typing out school reports, wearing nylons, and beads, and a slide in her hair. ‘How long did you work at the school?’
‘Ha! You remember? For three years before Rebecca made an appearance. When I was a child, I wanted to be a reporter, and that was the nearest I got. The teachers gave me their end-of-term reports, and I was supposed to type them out as they were but I used to elaborate a little.’ She giggled and watched her spreading fingers again. ‘It’s all very well the school telling parents about their child’s failings, but I believed their achievements should be commented on too. I’d look for the subjects that got high marks and add a comment, for example: ‘A talented artist’, ‘Exceptional music skills’, ‘A born sportsman’. I think the students, and their parents, got something from that.’
‘I’d almost forgotten those days.’ Naomi frowned for a moment. ‘Do you remember the poppets?’ Bubba shook her head. ‘Heleny and I had bought little plastic beads that pop into each other, and I made you a multicoloured necklace. One day the teacher gave me a note to take to the office; you were typing and I saw you were wearing my poppets over your twinset. I was so proud!’
Bubba smiled, and Naomi realised how much she had been loved.
‘Time has a habit of repeating itself,’ Bubba said.
‘How do you mean?’
For a moment, she stared ahead. ‘Irini and I . . . one day, we found lots of shiny fat beans under a tree. They were so beautiful, striped, browns and creams. We decided to make necklaces for our mothers, and I took a spool of button thread and a needle from Mama’s sewing box. We sat there, poking holes in those seeds all afternoon. I was so happy with Irini. At dusk, we were tired, rubbed our eyes, and parted, each with her lovely jewellery gift.’ Bubba chuckled. ‘Mama went crazy when I gave the necklace to her. She marched me around to Irini’s house, and then we were hauled off to see the doctor.’
‘I don’t understand. Why?’
‘They were the seeds from a castor oil tree. One of the most poisonous plants in the world. You see them all over the place now, but kids have more sense than to play with them. The next day, we couldn’t see. No school for a week, and we had to lean over a chair while Mama put drops in our eyes.’ She smiled softly. ‘The eye-drop bottle came in useful when Irini found an abandoned baby bird a while later. We fed it mashed insects and milk, squirting them into the back of its gaping mouth, hoping it would grow into a fantastic peacock and follow us everywhere. It died of course.’ Her face fell. ‘Poor Irini, I’d forgotten those childhood days. We were so happy together.’
‘I’ll bet you have great stories to tell, Bubba. If you want to write again, you can always use my laptop. Just tell me when, and I’ll set it up for you.’
‘I’d like to try it sometime, but I’m tired now.’ She let her lame hand fall into her lap. ‘Too many exercises. I have to recuperate in my bed for an hour.’
*
Naomi washed up. The house was eerily quiet, as if waiting for something important. With the diary in her hand, she stepped outside and took a deep breath of fresh air. Her thoughts returned to darling Costa, Mykonos, and their honeymoon. They were standing on a veranda, watching the sunset, when their baby moved for the first time. She almost fainted with delight, took Costa’s hand and placed it on her tummy. Silent, they’d gazed into each other’s eyes until Costa said, ‘Wow! He’s a footballer. Naomi, I’ve never been so happy in my life. Thank you, darling.’
Poor Rebecca, cheated of so much more than she can imagine. Her children dying in her womb. All her hopes and prayers pinned on this pregnancy. And poor Bubba, to have those awful memories of killing people. How could she get to sleep at night? Naomi shook her head, the thought too horrible to contemplate. She sat on the patio and opened the diary. Dora, she remembered, was going to execute Xanthi.