The Collectors Book Two: Full Circle (The Collectors Series 2) (5 page)

“If we’d fluffed it and been caught, I don’t think they would have believed our story.”

“I’d like to think they were kosher. Let’s face
it, we could have pointed a nasty finger at the captain and ship owner.”

“Perhaps you’re right but I’m still left with a nasty taste in my mouth.”

As the only first class passengers, they boarded immediately the gate opened. With the choice of seats, Petros strapped himself into an aisle seat and Bear a window. Both declined a glass of champagne. Petros asked for fresh orange juice and tonic while Bear requested a pint of Guinness.

The senior cabin crew member, a tall, thin, smartly dressed man, offered them the English daily papers. Petros took
The Telegraph
and Bear,
The Daily Mail.

They waited for the rest of the passengers to board. Petros did his best to be calm, letting his eyes wander around the spacious cabin. For the umpteenth time he checked his seat
belt. He never had a problem when he himself controlled dangerous situations, but strapped in a seat at thirty-five thousand feet and his life in the hands of others, always unnerved him.

The Boeing seven-four-seven lumbered towards the main runway. He wished his own nerves would settle. As the aircraft picked up speed his hands gripped the armrests tighter and tighter. The take-off proved routine and he breathed a sigh of relief, relaxed and dozed, dreaming of Maria and wondering who his daughter took after. He awoke as the plane lurched and dipped. Rain pounded the windows while lightning illuminated the sky. The plane pitched and his body strained against the seat belt. Bear remained sound asleep.

Must be over Europe now
, thought Petros.

One of the cabin crew, a blonde with large blue eyes, moved towards him.

“A touch of rock and roll tonight. The captain tells us that this will last for about the next twenty to thirty minutes and it’s not much better over London. When it calms down, if you want anything just ask?”

The aircraft began to rock violently, the rain pasting the fuselage. Through the window, Petros could see black storm-filled clouds.

“When you can, a cup of coffee and a sandwich would be good.”

“Would you prefer roast beef with horseradish or smoked salmon?”

“Salmon, please.”

Bear became instantly awake. “I’ll have a double-decker roast beef, Miss.” He rubbed his eyes. “No point in good food going to waste.”

She smiled and clung to the back of a seat.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“The world’s falling apart and you snore like a pig, but the mere whisper of food and you’re wide awake.”

“PK, I need sustenance on a regular basis. You should know that by now.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“What’s that got to do with it? And I’ll eat my breakfast.”

The seat belt signs flashed constantly.

“Sorry to disturb your sleep, ladies and gentlemen, although I think that last bump will have woken most of you up. This is Captain Giles Linton, your pilot. As you know, it’s a little bit bouncy outside. The Met Office has informed us that this weather front extends for quite some distance. I intend to make a slight alteration to our course and avoid the worst of it. We might be a touch adrift with our ETA for landing but I’m sure you would all prefer a smoother flight. I would ask you keep your seat belts fastened. Thank you.”

After a period of buffeting, the aircraft returned to level flight and the blonde came back with sandwiches for both men.

“Anything else I can get you?”

“No thank you, but my friend might want a couple more of those. I’d get them ready now.” Petros winked at her.

The woman, somewhere in her thirties, smiled and returned to the galley.

They were still half-asleep when the aircraft landed. After waiting in the queue at Passport Control, they collected their bags and headed outside. Unrelenting, the rain fell in torrents, filling the gutters and causing everyone to rush from one area of cover to another. Petros glanced left and right before he noticed the huge multi-coloured umbrella moving towards them. It tilted slightly and Jack Dunn, his stepfather, waved.

“Come on, you two, my car’s this way,” said Jack.

Once in the confines of the multi-storey car park Jack stopped.

“Congratulation, son, you have a beautiful daughter. I suppose you want to go straight to the clinic?”

“Silly question, Jack.”

Jack smiled. “The traffic around Harley Street at this time of the morning will be bloody murder.” His dark blue Mercedes glistened in the dull light.

“I expected the van, Jack, not the royal treatment.”

Jack’s right hand clipped Petros on the back of the head. “Do you think your mum would let me take you to one of the best clinics in London in a van?”

“Point taken.”

One hour elapsed before Jack, frustrated and cursing every other driver, stopped his car outside Queen’s Clinic.

“I won’t come in, PK,” said Bear. “I’ll see the ankle-biter after you and Maria have done the mushy bit. You know what I mean.”

“Hey, if you don’t stick your head in and say hello, she’ll be upset.”

“Okay. Jack, you go home,” said Bear. “I’ll get a taxi.”

“No way.
I’ll drive round the block and pick you up on the way back.”

Petros, with Bear trailing behind, strode through the double doors towards Reception.

As he approached, a young woman with an angular face glanced up and smiled. “Good morning, Sir. Can I help you?”

“Maria Kyriades. She’s just had a baby.”

The woman’s deep brown eyes twinkled. “You must be Petros. Your wife said you’d be arriving sometime this morning. Room two ten. Take the lift to the second floor and it’s third on the left. You have a beautiful daughter.”

His face flushed as a glow of pride grew inside him. “Thank you.”

He found the door to Maria’s room and opened it. She stood at the picture window, her back facing him.

“Hi, gorgeous. Sorry no flowers. Didn’t have time.”

She turned with open arms and held him close as he kissed her passionately.

“Hi, Maria,” said Bear. “PK insisted I come and say hello.”

“And so you should.” She kissed him on both cheeks.

A gentle whimper came from the crib on the other side of the bed.

“Can I pick her up?” said Petros. “She’s so small.”

“Shape your arms like a cradle and lift, supporting her head.”

Nervously he lifted the baby and held her. Her right hand reached out and touched his.

“She’s like her mother – beautiful. What do you think, Bear?”

Maria moved beside her husband. “I believe you’re slightly biased.”

“She’s gorgeous. Good job she takes after her mum,” remarked Bear.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I can feel her as she breathes. She seems so content.”

“That’s because I’ve just fed and changed her. Alysa has a good voice and is quick to let you know if something’s not right.”

“Maria, I’ll be off or
Jack’ll get a parking ticket.”

“
Bear, will you and Jocelyn be God-Parents to our Alysa?”

“I’m honoured, even though I don’t do the God bit, Maria, but it’ll be a pleasure. I’m certain Jocelyn will be delighted.
Must dash. See you.” With a haste that defied his size, he spun around and left.

“When are you coming home?” Petros said, holding Maria’s hand.

“A few more days. The doctors want to make sure there’s no infection. Talking of home, do you want our daughter living on a boat?”

Petros gazed at Alysa. “There’s nothing wrong with my boat, plenty of room.”

Maria frowned. “For me and you but we need room for a cot, buggy and a bath for Alysa, plus somewhere for her clothes. A house would be better.”

“If you want a house, that’s fine by me. But I keep my boat.”

Maria hugged him. “We have a year before she starts to walk, plenty of time to find somewhere with a big garden. Oh, I forgot to mention. Your mama has already filled the boat’s lounge with everything Alysa will need for the next six months. I told her not to but I don’t think she listened. Poor Jack has been running all over the place.”

He laughed. “Little Alysa is special to Mama. She’s part of my father and that makes her different from her other grandchildren.”

“She has Cypriot parents, and Mama and I want her christened in Cyprus.”

“Once we’ve sorted a few things out, I don’t see a problem. Your aunt Eleni will love Alysa.”

“You’re tired. Why don’t you go home and sleep.”

“I could do with a few hours rest. If there’s something you need, I’ll bring it in this evening.”

“Go home.”

He kissed Alysa and placed her into the crib. For a moment, he held Maria to him, the smell of her body tantalising. With a kiss on her lips, he lifted his bag, turned and left. Being a father thrilled him, but Maria’s words struck a chord: any boat, no matter how luxurious, was not the ideal place to raise a child.

*  *  *

Maria returned to her bed, rested on top of the covers and closed her eyes. Alysa murmured in her sleep. Why hadn’t Petros been with her during the birth?
she asked herself, knowing the answer. When they first met, she understood he would go away often. In the beginning, every homecoming was another honeymoon. Now, with Alysa’s arrival, everything would change. When her mother died she coped on a daily basis with her father and four brothers. In fairness, when she was at university, her father did hire a Philippino girl to clean and cook

She loved Petros and thanked God he was back.

Chapter Five

Greek Cypriot land near Famagusta – 2002

The brothers Alexis and Yannis marked out the ground and started to dig.

“Why you took this, instead of money, I don’t know.” Alexis waved his hand. “It’s fit only for goats and snakes.”

“You know I won it playing poker,” said Yannis as he wiped the sweat from his eyes. “There’s water somewhere here and when I find it I can grow whatever I want.”

The sun crept ever higher in the deep blue sky, its searing heat making any work arduous. The two of them dug into the dry soil and dumped it into buckets. When full, they lifted and emptied them a few metres away. For shade they sheltered under a tattered canvas canopy.

One year out of Nicosia University, twenty-two year old Yannis remained a lanky individual. In the bright sun, his grey hair, a defect from birth, shone with a silvery hue.

For five days he and his older brother dug, removing countless buckets of stones and sand-coloured earth. In the heat of the midday sun Alexis rested but
Yannis continued. Living in hope, he ambled back and jumped into the three-metre pit.

This time, the ground quivered beneath his feet and the dry earth swirled like water. A vortex formed and his feet vanished.

“Help,” he screamed. Disorientated and frightened, he lay in the gloom, staring up at a circle of light. He moved his fingers and toes: no pain. He spat the dirt from his mouth. “Help …” he managed to croak.

The sun silhouetted Alexis’s head.

“Yannis, are you all right?”

“No bones broken. Alexis
, get me a flashlight, quickly …”

At last Alexis lowered a torch on a piece of string.
Yannis grabbed it and switched it on. His dark eyes filled with amazement at the stonework surrounding him. Stonemasons must have cut these to build this circular chamber, he concluded, each perfect in shape and size. He knew that in the past, men belonging to a village would dig ten to fifteen wells. Connecting tunnels enabled water from the aquifer to flow by gravity from one to another.

Working feverishly, he positioned the torch and with his hands he cleared away as much of the earth close to the stones as he could.

“Alexis! Drop me a bucket,” he shouted. “I need to clear this rubbish.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No.” His eyes studied an ancient mason’s mark. “No, Alexis. If I find anything, I’ll shout. Just keep lifting the buckets.”

Broken rocks and rubble made the excavation difficult.
Yannis laboured, while Alexis pulled full buckets from the pit. The worked stones took shape and he noticed from its different size the beginnings of a keystone. Excited, he called out, “Alexis, I’ve found something.”

“I hope
it’s water.”

“Lower yourself. You’ll find this interesting.”

In a cloud of dust and stones, Alexis dropped down beside Yannis. “It’s a wall. Wonderful?”

Yannis
shone his torch at the stone wall. “It’s Roman. It’s definitely Roman!” His voice soared with enthusiasm. “I need to excavate more before I’m certain.”

Alexis rubbed his hand across the smooth stone. “Years at university,” he mocked. “It’s
water
we want – not an abandoned well.”

“You are thick, my lovely brother. We have discovered – Roman history.”

“History will not grow crops and make money.”

Tired yet elated,
Yannis agreed. “In the morning I’ll remove this.” He pointed to the ground. “And we’ll see what it means.”

“
Yannis, I’ll help you one more day. After that, I’m back to father’s vineyards. At least he pays me.”

“Tomorrow we will find something important. You wait and see.”

*  *  *

The brothers arrived at the site early. With one aim
Yannis lowered an aluminium ladder into the pit, descended and began to dig.

The muscles of Alexis’s short, stocky frame, an inheritance from his father, flexed as he dragged full buckets to the surface. Time passed but despite their efforts, the depth increased no more than a few feet. Late that afternoon
Yannis uncovered more of the arch. The conditions in the pit became hot and oppressive. Alexis insisted on food and water breaks.

Covered in sweat-soaked dust,
Yannis dug until a gap opened at the base of the arch. Uneasy, he stared into the dark. Should he crawl into the unknown? He found the torch, forced his head and shoulders through, his muscles tensed for a rapid retreat. Could it be a nest for snakes?

“Can't stand snakes,” he muttered. “Black or green, I hate them.”

He peered into the dark, his eyes growing accustomed to the gloom. The beam of light picked out the curved roof; the tunnel appeared to be about two metres wide and three metres high. The superb curvature of the roof gave the impression of being Roman in design and construction. The builder had used clay tiles interlaced with mortar. Reluctantly, he dragged himself further in until he slid uncontrolled to the bottom. He stood, brushed the dust off and shone the torch along the passage.

He took a deep breath. The air smelt fresh, not stale as he had expected. His thoughts remained lucid as he ambled further into the tunnel, noticing that the ground fell away at a steep incline. The dark deepened and he considered his options. Without proper lighting it would be reckless to continue. He had to go back.

The sand from the pit proved difficult to climb, but gasping for breath, he ascended the ladder.

“What did you discover?” asked Alexis.

“Can’t say until we check it out.”

“Tomorrow sounds good to me,” said Alexis.
“Time for home and food.”

Resigned to going along with his brother’s wishes,
Yannis sat in the cab of the battered L200, weighing up his options while Alexis drove, taking a direct route across fields and through vineyards. Thankfully, the sun had begun its decent and a refreshing breeze blew across the land.

When
Yannis and Alexis entered their father’s house, their mother, Kiki, screamed at her dust-blackened sons. “Get out. Use the shower in the garden. I will bring you clean clothes.”

They dared not argue. Inside the house, she reigned supreme. The warm shower and plenty of soap rinsed the filth from their bodies. Although in short supply, they let the hot water ease their aching limbs. Kiki placed clean clothes and towels on a nearby chair.

“Come in when you’re dressed. I suppose you’re hungry?”

Alexis shouted, “You know I love your cooking.”

She laughed a throaty laugh. “You enjoy anybody’s cooking, my son.”

“You know me too well.” He gave her a cheeky grin.

Yannis
and Alexis rose early once again to escape the heat of the day. From their father’s store they removed a small generator and lighting necklace. These they placed in the truck. A breakfast of homemade bread and cheese filled their stomachs. Their father’s truck belched a cloud of blue smoke when it started, and rattled like stones in an empty tin.

The sun had not even risen over the hills when Alexis parked a few metres from the hole. It took them a couple of hours to prepare the long lighting cable and connect it to the generator. Working together, they lowered everything into the pit. The engine started on the third pull and flooded the pit with light.
Yannis made the entrance hole to the tunnel larger and entered, dragging the lighting cable with him. Alexis followed. With two torches on their belts and purpose-made lamps strapped to their heads, they explored the passage that vanished into the dark.

Yannis
examined the stonework and marvelled at its precision. The floor had a central gutter, worn smooth by the passage of water. “I wonder how far it goes,” he said.

“Keep walking,” said Alexis.

One step at a time they continued, pulling the lighting necklace with them. At one hundred metres the cable went taught. Yannis switched on one of his torches and went on. Alexis followed. Again Yannis studied the floor of the tunnel, attempting to judge the incline. He glanced back and estimated it to be roughly one-in-thirty, not steep but enough. How far had they descended? He checked the time – over an hour. The fine roots of trees had found a route into the passage and when these brushed against their heads and faces, they jumped.

To his surprise,
Yannis found that the tunnel opened out into a vast hall. The floor of the chamber in front of them appeared five metres below. Moving the beams to the far side, they saw a series of well-worn stone steps descending into the chamber. Eight statues of Neptune, the Roman God of the sea, supported a vast sandstone roof.

“Hey, Alexis, there’s a ledge. We can get across.”

“For a tall, skinny runt like you, maybe, but for me, I don’t know.”

Yannis
sidled along until the ledge widened to over a metre. “Follow me. Press your back to the wall and edge your way along. That can’t be difficult, even for you.”

“I have a choice?” said Alexis.

Yannis laughed but waited for his brother.

Together they wandered down the steps.
Yannis stopped. He was puzzled: Roman mosaics on the island were common but plain mortar covered this floor. He knelt and examined it. Dark lines stretched around the three sides.

“I must be stupid,”
Yannis shouted, his voice echoing in the lofty chamber. “This isn’t a room! It’s a fresh water sump. The statues of Neptune should have told me.”

His torch started to dim and he switched on another, saving his headlamp for emergencies. Time had run out.

“Not a lot here, Alexis. We need to come back, better equipped.”

“Brother, we must go before our torches fail. Wandering around this place in the dark would not be my idea of fun.”

After two hours walking, they clambered to the surface, grabbed their flasks of water from the truck and gulped. Although warm, it sated their thirst and washed away the ancient dust clogging their noses and throats.

But now they had a decision to make.

“We should inform the authorities,” said Yannis.

Despite what he heard, Alexis couldn’t stop laughing. “Brother, your mouth might be in gear but that brain of yours is in neutral. Tomorrow we’ll see if there’s anything down there. If it’s as empty as it seems then we’ll tell the authorities.”

“But that’s illegal.”

“My brother, the Romans abandoned Cyprus two thousand years ago. One more day will make little difference.”

“Okay, one more day, Alexis. No more.”

“Whatever you say.
Now let me get behind the wheel of this heap of crap and go home.”