Black Butterflies (19 page)

‘
I cannot think how to bring the subject up gently.’

Marina falls silent and they sit side by side. The sun is beginning to set and there is a pink glow to the hills, the houses and the whitewashed walls. The cats stretch in the cooling air. Someone plays the bouzouki, a slow haunting melody.

Marina wonders if she should knock on the door at all. Her visit to the island has brought her friends. Her life is richer for having visited. Maybe she should be content with that. But the same old gnawing hollowness opens in her chest at the thought of walking away, and silent tears begin their well-worn course down her cheeks. The same feeling as a hundred times before.

Her chin jerks back and she blinks hard. This is the feeling that keeps her distant from Eleni and Artemis. This is the feeling she does anything to avoid. If she allowed herself to love Eleni and Artemis with all her heart, as she loved her son, and she lost them too, this would be the pain that remains. Marina is appalled that somewhere along her life she has made the decision to not love her children fully for fear of the pain that losing them might bring.

Marina’s life falls into clear focus. In her fear of losing them she has driven them away. The love they needed was not to be found at home. Artemis went to America chasing love and is now on her second marriage. Eleni, more sensitive than Artemis, hardened her heart and left for Piraeus at the earliest opportunity to join the port police. In her own words, ‘To be part of something, to belong.’ Both chose paths that took them away from her and toward a place of being needed, a place of belonging. Marina sits, stunned by her revelation. The outcome of her self-protective actions has brought her nothing but loneliness and misery. But worse than that, far worse than that, she has been a bad mother.

With no warning
– Petta in the middle of stretching his legs forward and leaning back, his hands interlocked behind his head, Marina still sitting upright – she melts into series of deep soul-wrenching sobs. Petta sits up and smiles, as if mistaking her movement and noise for chuckles. But in an instant his smile is lost and his face is in consternation. He releases his interlocked hands and wraps them around Marina.

‘
Oh my, oh my. My dear friend. Believe me, it will never be as bad as you imagine.’ Keeping one arm around her shoulders he begins to search for his hanky to offer her. Marina leans forward to take hers from the bag. They find them simultaneously.

The breeze stops. The leaves hang suspended. Marina ceases sobbing and stares. Petta abruptly quiets his cooing talk and blinks several times.

In their grasp, between the two of them, are four black butterflies. Two on each hanky. Marina’s lips drop apart. She looks in his eyes to recognise him. He scans her face, his mouth opening and closing as if to form words that will not come. He then begins a smile.

‘
This person you have not seen …’ His words are coming out shaky and cracked.

Marina can feel a smile building.
‘Yes?’ It does not sound like her own voice.

‘
You would not, by chance, have last seen him thirty-five years ago?’

Marina can make no noise leave her throat, so she just nods.

‘Would he have been very, very young when you left him?’ His voice has broken into a quiet high pitch, suppressing tears.

Marina nods again.

His bottom lip is all aquiver and his tears now spill over the rims of his eyes. His age drops away as he becomes a boy again, and without another word he lowers his head and leans into Marina’s chest. She wraps both arms around his head and tentatively kisses his hair. He smells lovely, of shampoo and sea. She kisses his hair again and leans her cheek against the top of his head. She feels complete. They remain still, lost in time, making up the years until the sun sets.

Petta makes the first move to be released. He straightens and rubs his back. They have been still a long time. As if in agreement, no words are spoken. Marina reaches down for her bag. She pulls it onto her knee and begins to take out gaily wrapped parcels. The pile of parcels grows. Petta picks one up. He holds it closer to read the inscription.

For my beloved son on his twenty-first birthday.

He picks up another.

For my beloved son on his thirteenth birthday.

He looks at the growing pile on the bench between them and begins to count.

‘There are thirty-five,’ Marina says.

Petta opens one for himself, aged two. It is a blue hand-towel with two butterflies embroidered on it.

‘
You know, everyone thinks my nickname “Petalouda” –
butterfly
– is because I fluttered from girl to girl.’ Petta shakes his head, ‘But Mum and Dad called me it first because you had insisted that I have the hankies you embroidered for me.’ He pauses. ‘Mum said you would come to find me one day.’

Marina takes in the reality that someone else is Petta
’s mum. ‘Who is she?’

‘
Vasso Mavromati. They have the small farm on the way to the coastal path.’

‘
With the white horse under the tree?’

Petta laughs.
‘Yes, but not all the time.’

‘
Hello! What are you guys cooking up?’

‘
Irini!’ Petta jumps from his seat. ‘Guess who I have found.’

‘
Er, Marina?’ Irini smiles and scans the pile of little parcels. She moves closer and picks one up. She reads the inscription.

‘
You have to be kidding?’ Irini’s eyes are wide, she starts to take small jumps on the spot.

‘
Irini,’ Petta announces in a serious voice. ‘Meet my mother.’

Irini looks from him to her. Her hand reaches out to touch Petta whilst the rest of her moves in to hug Marina.

‘This is fantastic news! Petta, I am so happy for you.’

The three of them ask questions back and forth. Marina encourages him to have thirty-five birthdays all at once. But Petta says he wants to save them. Take it slowly. They chatter on, but it is getting very dark so Irini suggests they move to the house where she has cooked, so there is food if they are hungry. They sit on the terrace outside. The food is almost forgotten but the chilled wine cools them. The warm night air takes the heat off the day. The crickets still sing but the cicadas have stopped now the temperature has dropped. The island is dark. The sky is clear and the stars seem near enough to reach up and touch them.

The night becomes early morning and they are still talking. Details of each other’s lives, events that shaped them. Marina holds nothing back. Her love for him flows wide and sure and strong. She is healing with each breath she takes and every word he speaks to her.

‘
So, I have two sisters?’ Petta’s eyes are so bright.

‘
Artemis is married and in Athens, and Eleni is here on the island.’

‘
Here! On this island?’ He jumps off his seat. ‘We must go see her!’

‘
Sit down, you big butterfly! It is two thirty in the morning. Now is not the best time to make a good impression.’ Irini laughs.

‘
Two thirty. Oh dear, Zoe will be in bed.’ Marina picks up her empty bag.

‘
Marina, lady, Mum, Mother, you need no Zoe. We have a spare room.’ Petta laughs at his own indecision as to how to address her. Irini goes inside the house.

‘
Perhaps “Marina” is best.’ Marina blushes.

‘
OK, Mum,’ Petta replies. Marina giggles.

Irini returns.
‘Clean sheets on the bed, Mum-in-law-to-be.’

‘
Thank you, Irini, and I think I had better go and lie on it or I will never get up in the morning.’ She stands with her empty bag and Petta also stands to give her another hug and a kiss goodnight. Irini shows her to her room.

Marina is the first up. She makes herself a Greek coffee on the camping gas stove by the sink. For years she has made her coffee on a portable camping gas stove, as have all her friends and many of the kafenio owners, who makes hundreds a day. In fact, all of Greece makes Greek coffee this way. Today her lucid mind wonders why. Why use the small stove when there is a cooker? But the question only holds her interest for a second or two. She looks out of the window over to Zoe’s house as she waits for the coffee to boil. The sun is bright and the heat has already begun. A donkey brays and she can hear goat bells up in the hills. A woman in black walks into the square and sits on the bench that Marina sat on the night before. The woman has a silver foil parcel, and the collection of cats that are gathering around her feet offers a clue about the contents.

The woman puts the opened foil on the ground and there are hisses and paw pats until everyone has a piece, and they all stand hunched, protecting their breakfast. Once they have eaten they return to the foil, but it is empty and licked clean. The lady in black wraps up the foil and stands. The cats prowl around her like sharks. She wanders back down the path.

‘Panayia! Oh dear.’ Marina’s coffee boils over and she whips the pan from the stove. There are coffee grounds all over the stove and the sink. But – and Marina is thankful for this – there is enough coffee left in the pan to fill a cup. She cleans the mess and takes it out onto the terrace.

There are birds singing and in the corner of the garden is a lilac bush with butterflies all over it. Black ones and red admirals. The borders need weeding, though, and some flowers need planting. A few annuals would add colour. She makes a mental note to buy some for Petta and Irini but remembers that the house owner is coming back. This thought makes way for the next. If Petta and Irini are without a job with a future, why not have them take over the shop? Marina could retire. Cook the meals, tend the plants, organise the workers for her orange orchards a bit better. It could work out very nicely. With such security, Petta and Irini could get married.

‘Morning, Mom.’ Petta tries an American accent. Marina is on her feet and the two hug again.

‘
I’ll make you a coffee,’ Marina offers.

‘
Irini’s beat you to it.’ Irini comes out, two cups in hand.

The chatter begins again, clarification of what was said the night before, new snippets they have remembered of their lives that they want to tell. Petta moves the conversation to the future and what that brings them all. At this point Marina offers them the shop and her home to share. They are overwhelmed. Petta asks if she understands what it is that she is offering, security, a future, a home. Marina dismisses it as being useful for her so she can concentrate on arranging the workers in the orange groves better. It will give her time to weed and water the garden, to cook dinner. Petta is lost for words until he says to Irini that they can now get married. Irini begins to cry. He brings out the ouzo to celebrate but it sits untouched as they drink their coffee. The conversation never stops, and Petta remembers about his new-found siblings.

‘So, my sisters! Eleni is here, you say?’

Marina then has the grim duty of telling Petta of the rift that has grown between her and Eleni. But she does not mention yesterday
’s revelation of her fear of loving her children. Today, she can love them with all her heart.

‘
Then we must fill this rift! We must see her and become a family. I have waited thirty-five years with no brothers or sisters, so there will be no rift big enough to divide us now!’

Petta
’s positive attitude smothers Marina’s misgivings. She may feel very different towards Eleni now, but there is no reason for Eleni to feel differently towards her. She wonders if her confession of her secret son will help or hinder.

‘
Why so glum?’ Petta asks.

‘
You don’t know Eleni. She is like fire, she burns. She shouts and bangs doors and walks away. There is no talking to her.’ Petta offers his own embroidered handkerchief, which makes Marina smile.

‘
How many did I leave you with?’

‘
I don’t know. I have three left. I wash them by hand so they will last.’ Marina is touched and her tears come from gratitude. ‘Perhaps you need to make me some more?’

Marina chuckles.

‘So, come on, where will we find Eleni?’ Petta stands.

Marina is not ready to face her. She needs to prepare, practise phrasing, making it softer, easier for Eleni to handle. She is not ready. When Petta offers his hand to help her stand she cannot refuse him, but voices her concerns about it being too soon. Petta asks again where Eleni will be.

‘She may be at work or – I don’t know really. Her girlfriend is friends with Panos, who has the barber’s shop.

‘
No! Panos, Pan. Then she keeps good company. He was my classmate and a finer man you could not find in all of Greece. Come, let us go see Pan.’

‘
But, I …’

‘Leave it to me,’ Petta says as they all mount the stairs up to Panos’ barbershop. ‘Hey, Pan,’ he calls as he gets to the top of the stairs, and the room opens out, the patchwork floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall windows just as stunning as Marina remembers, overlooking the harbour.

The town looks unreal, like a board game. Marina would like an Island version of Monopoly, a game she has played on occasion since they brought out the Greek version. She giggles at the thought. The playing pieces will be a donkey, a water taxi, a handcart. She looks through the windows for more ideas but she finds it difficult to focus as her eyes swim with tears.

‘Hey Petta, how are you running?’ Panos asks in young people’s talk.

Marina chuckles again: you can
’t ask old people that, as they cannot run. The chuckle lingers and she realises how nervous she feels.

‘
Hello, lady whose son wants to work as a hairdresser on another island …’

Marina feels her cheeks warming. His tone tells her that he never believed her tale. Marina looks around the room, and is relieved no one else is there.

Petta laughs – last night Marina told him the story of her first visit to Panos – before proudly telling Panos who Marina is to him. Panos congratulates her. She thanks him in a formal way, a little embarrassed at having lied to him. But Petta is speaking over the top of them, telling Panos who his sister is. Marina is stunned by his openness, his lack of discretion. She wants him to stop, to think about Eleni, about her. He doesn’t realise what he is doing. Her instinct tells her to leave, but at that moment a happy Irini puts an arm through hers. She is smiling from ear to ear.

Panos says he will call Eleni immediately and picks up his phone.

‘Stop, everyone, stop.’ Marina puts her hands up to halt everything. ‘Eleni is angry with me. This is not the way to deal with it. First I need to address that before we shock her with this news.’

‘
Eleni is not angry with you!’ Panos sounds surprised. ‘Eleni is terrified she cannot please you. She has made you sound like some ogre. Although having met you twice I cannot see why.’ He smiles at her. But Marina does not respond; she is thinking of facing Eleni.

‘
She wants to please me! My God, she is the one without a flaw! She is perfect! She is funny and bright and confident and independent and all the things I never was. I adore her and all she has to do is breathe and she pleases me. It is I who am trying to please her.’

‘
Huh, I wish!’

Marina spins round to see Eleni in the doorway with Anna.

‘Eleni!’

‘
Why are you here? To interfere?’

‘
No, I have come to try to make things right with you.’ Marina can hear her tone of voice and wishes it didn’t sound so harsh.

‘
Mum, we need to talk. But not here, not now. I need to say some things you are not going to like.’

‘
Panos, can they borrow your room for a little?’ Petta asks. Panos is already heading for the door. He shows all the signs of being uncomfortable with the situation and cannot wait to leave. He pulls Petta with him and Irini follows. Marina pleads with her eyes for them to stay. Eleni can shout as loud as Manolis used to. Calming Anna hesitates to leave, but Irini pulls on her sleeve and Marina and Eleni are alone. They turn in unison to look down over the harbour. They say nothing. They watch lithe Panos, stocky Petta, tiny Irini and graceful Anna walk across the harbour and sit down outside one of the cafés.

‘
Eleni …’ But Marina does not know what she is going to say, and pauses.

‘
No, Mum, I need to say something first and then you can decide if you want to say whatever it is you have come here to say.’

‘
OK, but I think I know.’

‘
You know nothing about me.’ She is shouting already and Marina backs away a little. Eleni steps behind the barber’s chair, a physical rock between them. ‘I have felt very lonely for a long time. I don’t think you know how lonely.’ She drops her head and Marina steps forward to comfort her, but Eleni brings her head up sharply and Marina stops moving. ‘When Dad died I felt lost.’ Marina’s eyes widen. ‘Don’t worry, I know he was no good, but whilst he was alive he was my excuse for why things felt bad.’ Eleni sighs and steps part way around the chair. ‘When he was gone I had no more excuses. I found someone to give me comfort in the village but it wasn’t complete. I still felt lonely. I felt I could not please you. That’s when I ran away to Piraeus.’ Marina opens her mouth to speak but Eleni holds up a warning finger.

‘
I found rules and regulations which I understood and they made my life safe, but still something was missing.’ She looks at Marina to see if she understands. Marina is silent and Eleni steps from behind the chair into open ground. ‘I came on a training weekend here, and that is when I found the missing piece. I told you I had found someone who made me feel complete, loved.’ Marina smiles to show her approval. ‘But you talked of weddings and grandchildren and I felt I had let you down.’ Marina shakes her head, but Eleni is looking at the floor. ‘I know Artemis cannot give you the grandchildren you desire.’ She lifts her head, stands with her feet shoulder-width apart, arms by her side as though she is on parade. ‘And I don’t want to – that is not how my life is going to be.’ There is defiance in her voice. Marina opens her mouth again but Eleni hisses a sharp ‘Shh’.