Black Butterflies (9 page)

‘Mum, are you in here all day or is Costas coming in?’ Eleni bursts through the courtyard door into the shop. Her hair is fuzzy from sleep and her T-shirt neck is so wide it has fallen down one shoulder. She hitches it back on.

‘
Costas is coming in about …’ Marina turns to look at the clock on the wall, which has a sticker on marking its price, still in drachmas. She has thought to change it but with recent events she thinks she might as well leave it. They may have the drachma again soon enough. ‘Well, about now. Why, my love?’

‘
I dunno, I just thought seeing as I am here we could have a chat or something.’ Eleni looks everywhere around the shop but at her mother. She selects a packet of crisps and opens them. Marina opens her mouth to suggest a proper breakfast but then closes it again. She tries out a few replies in her head and judges Eleni’s possible reaction to each. Eleni concentrates on her crisps and Marina tries to speed up her thoughts but draws no answers she can feel sure will cause no negative reaction.

‘
Morning.’ Costas wanders in. Marina stands and Eleni disappears through the courtyard door. Marina turns her mind to the shop’s business and runs through with Costas who came in that morning short of money and owes them a euro or two. Anything less than a euro she ignores. Nor will she ask for what she is owed: it is up to the discretion of the customer. Every customer is a friend, a neighbour. If a euro is forgotten at the shop it will be paid back with fresh eggs one day, or a lift into town another day. It all evens out in the end.

But she keeps the book to appear as if she takes the loan seriously. She has found it makes her customers feel more at ease if she writes it down and crosses it off when, or if, it is paid back. Costas settles into her chair and takes out his phone. As Marina opens the door to the courtyard she can hear the phone whistle and ping as Costas plays a game.

Eleni is in the courtyard sitting under the fig tree, a coffee on the table.

‘
You want one?’

Marina nods and goes inside herself and pours a coffee. She takes a deep breath before returning to the courtyard.

There is a cat on the wall watching a bird on the roof of the house. The cat picks its way across the jasmine that covers the wall. The jasmine needs watering, but not now. Marina sits in a canvas chair with wooden arms and balances her coffee on her knee to wait for it to cool a little.

‘
Mum?’

‘
Yes?’

Eleni
’s eyes are looking at the ground, darting left and right. Marina can see that she is struggling to form her sentence and wishes she could help.

‘
What is it, my love?’ Marina can think of no other way to help.

‘
Look, if you had a secret, or knew something that would affect me deeply, make me unhappy even, would you tell me in hopes that we could work it out?’

Oh my God, Panayia, she knows! Oh how in heaven has she found out?
Marina can feel her face being drawn white, her hands start shaking and she spills her coffee. The heat penetrates her skirts and as her knee burns, and as she jumps in pain, she knocks the tiny cup and saucer onto the floor. To her surprise Eleni jumps up to help. She picks up the broken pieces, her head so close to Marina’s knees she could reach out and touch her silky hair. Her hand hovers but she dare not touch. She wants to pull her daughter to her, hug her and protect her, tell her she is sorry.

‘
I’ll get you another.’ Eleni is gone.

How could she know? No one knows. Those that did know are dead. Aunt Efi. Even if her boyfriend is who he could be, he would not tell, he could not tell, could he? No, he would not, could not. No, that is not the source. Besides, if it was, Eleni would be angry, not enquiring. She would be demanding, furious.

Could it be that she has found out about her being on the island asking questions? That is possible. But she would just think she was interfering. She would think it was no more than that, there would be no reason to think there was more to it than that. Short of talking in her sleep and Eleni taking notes, this makes no sense. Does she talk in her sleep? No, it must be that she knows she has been on the island. Panayia! But no, that does not make sense either. Again she would be angry, not sitting here trying to form sentences. Marina feels slightly light-headed.

‘
Here you go, Mum.’ Marina pulls her chair up to the table so she doesn’t have to balance her coffee again. She doesn’t trust herself. She has no idea what to say to Eleni but she must say something, think as she speaks maybe.

‘
I …’ But Eleni does not wait for Marina to say any more.

‘
Let me put it another way. If I had a secret, or knew something that would affect you deeply, even make you unhappy, would you want me to tell you so we could talk about it, you know, until we felt OK?’

Marina is about to say
‘Yes of course’ but then wonders if it is a trick. No, Eleni is not that cunning. Angry, yes; cunning, no. But hang on, if it is not a trick then who is she talking about? Does she know or not? With these words it sounds as if Eleni really has a secret. Marina’s brain feels as if it is swelling and the pressure in her head blurs her vision. She takes a sip of coffee, hoping the sweetness will give her clarity. She takes a breath and hopes her voice will not give away her panic, her confusion.

‘
What are you saying, my love?’ Marina tries to say the words as gently and kindly as she can, not wishing to scare Eleni away. She needs a little more information to know how to respond. Her voice quivers and sounds breathless. God knows even talking at this level is such a leap forward for them. So precious, even if the topic is one she would rather she did not have to discuss.

‘
Well, if I … if there was … there are … not everyone …’

What is she trying to say? Eleni
’s pain is clearly internal. This is about Eleni, not her. If this is about Eleni, why would she come to talk to her now, before she is about to move to the island, unless …? Of course, this must be about the move, maybe about her boyfriend, but not in the way that is connected to Marina. Something else, perhaps. Perhaps they have had a fight? Oh no, not so soon, poor Eleni.

‘
Have you argued with your boyfriend?’ Marina tries to help.

‘
Oh, for goodness’ sake Mum, that’s my point exactly, that’s why we don’t talk! You have only one way of thinking.’ Eleni’s frustration bubbles over and she stands abruptly. Her thigh jogs the table and both coffee cups tip over in their saucers. But Eleni is in the house, the door slammed behind her. Marina is left to watch the coffee puddle on the table, and form rivulets that flow across the table to the stone slab floor.

Marina is ashamed. She is such a coward. She has let Eleni down.

Marina finishes writing the card. She sighs and puts it with the present which is already wrapped. She stands wearily, even though it is only mid-morning, and takes the present and card into her bedroom and puts them in her black holdall. She straightens the sheet on her bed. It is the brass bed that belonged to Manolis
’ mother before her. She would like a modern one with a harder mattress. Although her shop supports her and the girls there is no spare money for such things. She can see herself serving in the shop until they day comes when she cannot get out of bed. With Artemis in Athens and Eleni barely talking to her, the future looks a little bleak.

She hears a door bang. She carefully fastens the clasp on the holdall before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her. She can hear Eleni in the kitchen running a tap. Marina
’s heavy tread echoes on the wooden stairs. She takes a breath before turning towards the kitchen.

Eleni slams her glass down, and water slops over the top and down her hand. She flicks her wrist at Marina and the droplets land on Marina
’s nose and cheeks. Before she can react, Eleni is shouting.

‘
Why? Why, for God’s sake? What for? Just to interfere, to be nosey, what did you think you would find out? You can’t even (she adds a Greek expletive, Marina gasps) talk to me so what’s the point in …’ Eleni makes a sweeping movement with her hand, generalising and dismissing everything in one gesture.

Marina blinks rapidly and tries to work out what is going on.

‘Eleni, my sweet …’

‘
I am not your sweet, I haven’t been for some years, in case you haven’t noticed. Just tell me why?’

‘
Why what, my love?’ Marina wonders if the pain in her chest is the onset of a heart attack. Tears spill down her cheeks and there is a lump in her throat.

‘
Why did you go to the island?’

Marina swallows hard.
‘You weren’t meant to know. I was …’

‘
Yes, I realise that I wasn’t meant to know. Costas told me that you weren’t telling anyone.’

‘
Oh Costas, you silly …’

‘
You call Costas silly? Why? Because he thought your secrets didn’t apply to family? So what were you there for, what piece of interfering were you planning?’

‘
Eleni, my precious …’

‘
You know what, Mum? It doesn’t matter. I’m going.’

Marina hears her stomp to her bedroom. The general opening and shutting of drawers indicates that she is packing.

Marina knocks quietly. Eleni does not answer. Marina waits. Eleni storms out of her room, past her, bag in hand.

‘
Eleni, I was trying to save you from some very real pain. If you choose the wrong person …’

‘
That’s for me to decide, it’s not up to you who I choose.’ Eleni strides past her into the outhouse and pulls her wet washing from the machine.

‘
No, no. Of course, you must choose, but there is someone there who you must not choose.’

‘
You see, you have just proved my point! In one sentence you say yes, I must choose, but I must not choose those that you decide are not right. It is just hypocrisy, Mum. You say one thing and mean another. Like you say you want me to be happy, but only under your terms. I can be happy with so and so’s son, and only if I make the babies that you want. There is only one scenario for you. Any permutation of this and you are interfering. Artemis said that you hardly left her and Sotos alone to get on with their courtship, spying out of windows, arranging for his family to come over for Easter and dinners. For our sake, just back off.’ She takes a breath as she stuffs the wet washing violently into her bag. ‘I don’t know why I bothered coming home, let alone thinking I could talk to you.’ She finishes bundling her washing into her bag. Marina is concerned it will make all her other clothes wet.

‘
Let me get you a plastic bag for your washing.’

Eleni stands straight, fists bunched, shaking. She stamps her feet and lets out a growl before sweeping up her bag and grabbing her coat from the back of the door. She dumps her things outside the courtyard door and returns, past Marina, into the hall. She closes the partitioning door between them and Marina can hear the jingle of the phone being picked up.

Artemis has never said a word to her about this. She had been just helping, she wasn’t interfering. Her lower lip pushes out and she feels it tremble. This is not what she wanted at all. Artemis telling Eleni that she interfered, why did she not talk to her directly?

Marina doesn
’t wish a bad marriage on either of her children. She knows what a loveless marriage is like. Artemis already suffered one failed marriage before she was even twenty-two, and she has the very heavy burden of not being able to have children. It is natural, Marina reasons, for a mother to try to help. She knew Sotos would adore Artemis, he did and does adore her, she was right. But if Artemis has talked to Eleni about her interfering then she has not been right. A tear drips from her chin and she watches it create a dark circle on the stone flags, pushing out a tiny rim of dust.

In the quiet she can hear the tone of Eleni
’s voice. She has quietened; whoever she is speaking to is soothing her. Marina takes a small step closer to the dividing door. Eleni’s voice is muffled. She can make out ‘
S’agapo
’, ‘I love you’, every now and again. But what she hears most is a quiet, light tone from Eleni that she has not heard for years. She sounds deeply content and just a little playful. Marina takes a deep breath, her throat un-constricts and her chest expands. Her lip stops wobbling and she lightens with a joy that only the well-being of a loved one can bring. She prays to her God that this person is safe for Eleni to love.

The door opens suddenly and Marina steps back.

‘Listening in now? Hear anything you want to interfere with?’ Eleni brushes past her out into the courtyard, and through the side door. Marina hurries after her. She is standing at the bus stop.

‘
Eleni, please don’t leave. Let’s talk about this?’

‘
Just leave me alone.’

Marina can see the man inside the kiosk leaning forward to get a better view.

‘Eleni, please?’

‘
I am going to the island, I don’t need to stay here.’

The lady in the pharmacy by the bus stop moves towards the window, her arms folded over her white coat. Stella, the lady who runs the fast-food shop, has turned in her chair outside her shop. She takes a long suck on the straw in her
frappé. Marina thinks that she of all people should understand the importance of making a good match. Stella’s husband is a pig. Marina turns back to Eleni.

‘
Come back inside a minute?’

The bus pulls round the corner into the village.

Eleni picks up her bag. Marina feels a wave of panic.

‘
Eleni, there is something very important I have to tell you. It is imperative for your future happiness.’

‘
You have about two seconds before the bus stops.’

‘
I can’t tell you here on the street, it is …’

The bus
’s hydraulics hiss as the baggage compartment opens.

‘
I will give you a lift. Just come inside now, it is very important. Please Eleni? We need to talk.’

But Eleni throws her bag into the hold and the door closes on it as she mounts the stair into the bus.

Marina catches the back of her jacket. Eleni pulls it free with a fierce look. ‘I tried, Mum! Remember that!’ she hisses. The door closes and the bus pulls away.

The man in the kiosk sits back in his chair and turns to his television screen. The lady in the pharmacy rearranges things in her window. Stella stands to go inside as a car pulls up in front of her door.

Marina tries to control herself and scuttles back into her courtyard. Costas calls her from the shop but she ignores him. She rushes to her bedroom, picks up her holdall, and hugging it to her chest she flings herself on the bed, letting out a loud wail.

‘Right, Costas, I am going to see a friend in Athens. I may be gone a while.’ Marina has arranged for Mrs Sophia to take on Costas’s afternoon shifts, and Costas is glad of the extra money he will make doing Marina’s long shifts.

Costas nods his head but does not look up from his phone. Marina throws her hands up in despair. It is bad enough not making any profit with all this, but it is worse that she has to worry too.

‘Costa!’

‘
What? Yes, you are going to Athens and Kyria Sophia will do my shift. There is to be no credit over five euros, and the man is coming tomorrow to look at the fridge that is on the blink. You will be back when you are back.’

‘
And make sure you charge the Albanians, Russians, Romanians, Pakistanis, you know, all that lot, an extra ten cents on beer because they never bring the bottles back.’

‘
Will do. Yes! I am on the next level!’ Costas shows the phone screen to Marina, who ignores it.

She goes back to the courtyard and waters the jasmine. She returns to the shop and locks the door through to the courtyard and leaves by the shop door. She walks around to the mechanic
’s garage where her car waits for her. He is not there but the keys are in the ignition, she’ll pay him when she gets back. She is just driving away when she sees him returning in her rear view mirror. He waves at her cheerfully and Marina honks her horn – twice, because it’s such a good sound. He was very kind to retrieve her car from where she abandoned it, and to fix it so quickly.

From Marina
’s village, halfway to where the taxi boats dock to take people to the island, there is a village large enough to have two clothes shops. The first half of the journey has passed swiftly, but Marina is glad to pull the car to a stop outside one of the shops, the one whose clothes in the window do not look too extreme. What the girls wear these days shocks Marina. She thanks heaven Artemis and Eleni do not dress like that.

Looking in the changing-room mirror Marina cannot believe it is her. For so long she has worn nothing but black. The shift dress in pale blue the lady has offered actually looks very nice, but quite ridiculous with her old black shoes and black socks.

It is also a bit surreal. It is like carnival, dressing up, a disguise.

She buys some blue ankle socks and throws her old black ones in the bin.

Marina feels like a peacock in her finery and struts her way back to the car.

The rest of the journey passes in a variety of daydreams involving her blue dress.

She parks the car and, still with a bit of a swagger, takes her black holdall down to the pier and sits on the bench.

The island is misty blue, undefined, floating like a mirage in the heat. The water is smooth, beckoning with beauty, giving the illusion that she could swim there. Actually she would quite like to swim in the sea. Perhaps there will be time once she is on the island.

The sun shines without a care, lazy, hot. No sound except the lap of the water and, thank goodness, there are no snuffling stray dogs. The island lies in the distance. Not as threatening as the last time. This time it’s just a job that must be done. No memory-bubbles of the past bursting to the surface. This time her memories are diluted with the present danger of Eleni recognising her. Eleni’s needs eclipse her own, whatever the personal cost. She must do what she must do, and there is just no avoiding it. It is not interfering, it really is a mission of mercy, albeit at the cost of Eleni’s being irreconcilably furious with her.

She can see the taxi boat setting out from the island. She watches it as it grows nearer. It is not until it is quite close that she recognises it as the one her friendly dancer drives. She must find out his name. Such a nice young man.

He pulls alongside the pier and Marina stands with a smile. The boat, she notices, is called
Hera
. He does not greet her.

‘
Won’t be leaving for five minutes, lady.’

‘
Maybe we could dance the time away?’

‘
Sorry?’ He turns to look at her. ‘Ah! Is that you? Oh my, would you look at you all dressed up like a peacock! My, oh my, you take a man’s breath away! Come here, pretty lady, and give me a twirl! So fine! And to what honour do we owe this transformation?’

Marina giggles and keeps her head down, feeling quite bashful.

‘Oh! Uh oh!’

Marina looks up at the negative sound the man is making. He gives her a sideways glance, and tuts and shakes his head.

‘What?’ Marina asks.

The man makes an exaggerated head movement to look down at her shoes. She too looks down at the old worn black flat boats on her feet.

‘Well, they are comfortable!’

‘
Lady, you are like a peacock with clogs on! Wait!’

He jumps into his boat and Marina can see seats being lifted, the man scrabbling in the storage areas underneath.