‘I think in about seven months - it’s very early days.’
‘That’s only a few months after our wedding - I’ll have to come back to Plaka to see you every other day,’ Maria said, bubbling with enthusiasm.
They all toasted the good news. To both girls it seemed only moments since they had been making castles in the sand and, now, here they were discussing marriage and maternity.
Later that summer, concerned by the length of time that had elapsed since she had seen Anna, and rather bemused by her sister’s complete lack of interest in her forthcoming nuptials, Maria decided that they should call on her. It had been one of August’s hottest days, when even night-time brought little relief from the soaring temperatures, and rather than their customary outing to Agios Nikolaos with Fotini and Stephanos, Manoli and Maria would instead go alone to see Anna. It was a bold move. No invitation had been issued and no word received that the rather grand and elusive Anna wanted to see them. The message was clear to Maria. Why else would her sister be behaving in this way unless she was trying to express disapproval? Maria wanted to get to the bottom of it. Several letters she had written - one describing the engagement party that Anna had missed, supposedly because of illness, and another telling her about the beautiful lingerie she had been given for her trousseau - had gone unanswered. Anna had a telephone but Maria and Giorgis did not, and communication between them had ground to a halt.
As Manoli drove up the familiar road just beyond Elounda that led to the imposing Vandoulakis home, taking the bends as would any young man who had negotiated them a thousand times, Maria was nervous. Courage, she told herself. She’s only your sister. She could not understand why she felt in such a needless state of anxiety about calling on someone who was such close flesh and blood.
When they drew up, Maria was the first to get out of the car. Manoli seemed slow, fiddling to get his key out of the ignition, and then combing his hair in the rear-view mirror. Maria stood waiting for him, impatient for this encounter. Her fiancé twisted the great round door handle - this was, after all, a sort of home from home for him - but it failed to budge, so he seized the knocker and banged hard three times. Eventually the door was opened. Not by Anna, but by Eleftheria.
She was surprised to see Manoli and Maria. It was rare that anyone should call unannounced, but everyone knew that Manoli was not the type to bother about etiquette, and she embraced him warmly.
‘Come in, come in,’ she fussed. ‘It’s so nice to see you. I wish I had known you were coming, then we could have had dinner together, but I’ll get us something to eat and some drinks . . .’
‘We’ve really come to see Anna,’ said Manoli, interrupting. ‘How is she? She’s been rather out of touch - for months.’
‘Has she? Oh, I see. I didn’t realise. I’ll go up and let her know you’re here.’ Eleftheria bustled out of the room.
From her bedroom window, Anna had seen the familiar car draw up. What should she do? She had managed to avoid such a confrontation for as long as she possibly could, believing that if only she could keep away from Manoli her feelings for him might gradually fade. Each day of the week, however, she saw him. She saw his reflection in her husband when he came in from the estate, and on the nights when Andreas made love to her, Manoli was easily conjured through half-closed eyes. The intensity of her passion for this vivacious version of her husband was as strong as it had been the day he had tucked a flower between her breasts, and the merest thought of him was enough to arouse her. She longed to see that sparkling smile which ignited her passion and sent shudders down her spine, but any such meeting would now be with Maria, and that would mean a reminder that Manoli could never be hers.
She had pretended to be in control. Until this evening. Now she was cornered. The two people she loved and loathed most in the world were downstairs waiting for her.
Eleftheria tapped gently on her door.
‘Anna, your sister and her fiancé are here!’ she called, without entering. ‘Will you come and see them?’
Without ever having been taken into her confidence, Eleftheria had harboured her suspicions about Anna’s feelings for Manoli. She had been the only person who had known quite how often he had called on her, and the only person who had known full well that Anna was not ill on the day of her sister’s engagement party. Even now she could feel her daughter-in-law’s reluctance to leave her bedroom. It could not possibly take that long to walk across the room. It was all beginning to make sense. She stood patiently for a few moments before knocking again, this time with more insistence. ‘Anna? Are you coming?’
From behind the closed door, Anna delivered a sharp retort. ‘
Yes
I
am
coming. I’ll be down when I’m ready.’
A few moments later, her vermilion lipstick freshly applied and her glossy hair shining like glass, Anna threw open her bedroom door and went downstairs. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the reception room. Looking every inch the
grande dame
of the house, even though Eleftheria was its real mistress, she swept across the room to greet her sister and pecked her politely on the cheek. Then she turned to Manoli, holding out a pale, limp hand to shake his.
‘Hello,’ she said, smiling. ‘This is such a surprise. Such a nice surprise.’
Anna had always been able to act. And in so many ways it
was
nice to see this man, this obsession of hers, in the flesh; but it was also much more than that. She had thought of him each and every day for months and now here he was standing in front of her, even more rugged, more desirable than she had remembered. What seemed many minutes later to Anna but was only a second or two, she found she was still holding his hand. Hers was damp with sweat. She pulled away.
‘I felt it had been such a long time since I saw you,’ said Maria. ‘Time is moving on so quickly and you know we are getting married in October, don’t you?’
‘Yes, yes, that’s marvellous news. Truly marvellous.’
Eleftheria bustled in now with a tray of glasses and a row of little plates piled with olives, cubes of feta cheese, almonds and warm spinach pies. It was a miracle that she had produced such an array of
meze
in a matter of moments, but nevertheless she apologised for not being able to honour them with a more elaborate feast. She continued to bustle about as she removed an elaborate decanter of ouzo from the sideboard and poured everyone a drink.
They all took a seat. Anna perched on the edge of hers; Manoli sat back, comfortable, totally at ease. The room was filled with a warm orange light cast through the lace curtains by the setting sun and though conversation was stilted, Anna kept some sort of dialogue going. She knew it was her role in this situation.
‘Tell me about Father. How is he?’
It was hard to tell whether Anna really cared, but it had certainly never occurred to Maria that she did not.
‘He’s fine. He’s very pleased about our wedding. We asked him to come and live with us afterwards, but he is adamant about staying where he is in Plaka,’ she said.
She had always made plenty of excuses for her sister’s apparent lack of concern: her distance from Plaka, her new role as a wife, and other duties that Maria presumed she must have on an estate such as this. She knew now that similar changes were going to affect her. It would be a great help if Anna would begin to play more of a role with their father, and at least try to see him more often. She was about to broach the subject when there were voices in the hallway.
Alexandros and Andreas had returned from an inspection of their land up on the Lasithi plateau, and though the cousins saw each other regularly to discuss the affairs of the estate, they embraced now like long-lost friends. More drinks were poured and the two men of the house sat down.
Maria detected a tension but could not put her finger on the cause. Anna seemed perfectly happy making conversation, but she could not help noticing that most of her comments were directed at Manoli rather than her. Perhaps it was just the positions in which they were seated. Manoli was opposite Anna, while Andreas and Maria sat to one side on a long upholstered bench with Eleftheria between them.
Manoli had forgotten the strength of his attraction to Anna. There was something so gloriously coquettish about her, and he recalled those lunchtime trysts with something approaching nostalgia. Even though he was now an officially engaged man, the old rogue in Manoli still lurked close to the surface.
Eleftheria could see a difference in Anna. So often she could be sulky and monosyllabic, but tonight she was animated, her cheeks flushed, and even in this half-light she could see that there was a breadth to her smile. Her appreciation of everything that Manoli said was almost fawning.
As usual, Manoli dominated the conversation. Anna tried not to be infuriated when he kept referring to Maria as his ‘beautiful fiancée’, concluding that he was doing it deliberately to annoy her. He was still teasing her, she thought, still playing with her as he had done all those months ago, and making it obvious that he had not forgotten their flirtation. The way he was looking at her now, leaning forward to speak to her as though there was no one else in the room, made that quite plain. If only there
was
no one else in the room. This hour she had spent in the company of Manoli was both heaven and hell.
It was mostly wedding talk. When the service was going to be, who was to be invited, and Andreas’s role as
koumbaros
. It was almost dark by the time Maria and Manoli rose to go. Their eyes had adjusted to the gloaming, and only now did Eleftheria put on one of the dim table lamps so that they could make their way from the room without tripping on rugs or bumping into side tables.
‘There is just one thing, Anna,’ Maria said, determined not to leave without achieving her mission. ‘Would you come and visit Father soon? I know you are busy, but I think he would really appreciate it.’
‘Yes, yes, I will,’ said Anna with unusual deference to her younger sister. ‘I’ve been neglectful. Very naughty of me. I’ll come down to Plaka in a few weeks’ time. What about the third Wednesday in September? Would that be convenient?’
It was a casual, throwaway question, but somehow full of malice. Anna knew perfectly well that a Wednesday in September was the same for Maria as a Wednesday in April, June or August, or, for that matter, a Monday or a Tuesday. She was engaged in the same pattern of domestic activities for six days every week and, apart from Sundays, it didn’t matter in the slightest when Anna came. Also, Maria had expected Anna to suggest something a little sooner. She was impeccable in her reply, however.
‘That would be lovely. I shall tell Father,’ she said. ‘And I know he will look forward to it. He’s usually back from Spinalonga by five o’clock with Dr Lapakis.’
Damn her for mentioning the island! thought Anna. She felt they had all done well over the past five years to make sure that the full extent of their connection with the leper colony had not reached the ears of the Vandoulakis family. She knew too that it was now as much in Maria’s interest to keep their past quiet as it was in hers. Why couldn’t they all just forget about it? Everyone knew that Giorgis made his deliveries to Spinalonga and ferried the island’s doctor. Wasn’t that shameful enough, without it being constantly referred to?
There were final embraces and Manoli and Maria eventually drove away. Even if Anna had seemed edgy at times, Maria felt that perhaps the ice had begun to thaw. She always tried not to judge her sister, and to contain her criticisms, but she was not a saint.
‘It’s about time Anna came to Plaka,’ she said to Manoli. ‘If I’m leaving Father there on his own, she’ll have to start visiting him a bit more often.’
‘I’ll be amazed if she does,’ said Manoli. ‘She’s rather a law unto herself. And she certainly doesn’t like it when things don’t go her way.’
Such knowledge of Anna puzzled Maria. He spoke of her sister as someone he understood. Anna was not a complex person, but even so it surprised her that Manoli could make such an accurate observation.
Maria was now counting the days until her marriage. There were only four weeks to go. She wished they would pass more quickly, but the fact that she would be leaving her father still weighed heavily on her mind and she resolved to do everything she possibly could to ease the transition. The most practical step she could take would be to tidy up the house for when Giorgis would be there alone. She had put this task off during the summer months when the air both outside and inside shimmered in the soaring temperatures. It was much cooler now, the perfect day to do such a job.