‘Do you know her well?’
‘Not really, she’s always asking us to take something over. Odd things. She asked me for a ladder a few months back. I usually take her a little present when I deliver.’
‘I’m sure she appreciates it. They live very Spartan lives over there. I plan to buy some supplies for them in Aghios Nikolaos,’ continued Father Minos. ‘Would you be willing to deliver them?’
‘Of course, what are you buying?’
‘Sand, cement and lime to start with.’
‘What?’
Father Minos smiled at the young man’s amazement. ‘They need it to repair their houses. When you deliver could you pass on a message for me?’
‘Who to?’
‘The girl on the jetty will do. Ask her to tell Yannis that Anna is waving.’
Father Minos was longing to count the money that was in the little cloth bag, but thought it unwise in front of the young boatman. He leaned back, lulled by the gentle movement and closed his eyes.
Having moored he arranged to meet Manolis the following day to pass over his purchases and went in search of the doctor. This time he knocked and waited politely.
‘I’ve come to apologise for my conduct yesterday. I was somewhat overwrought,’ he began.
Doctor Kandakis looked at the priest. He had hoped he had seen the last of him. He began to push the door closed, but Father Minos held up his hand. ‘May I come in? I wish to talk to you.’
‘I’ve very little time. I’m a busy man.’
‘I understand. I’ll be as quick as possible.’ Father Minos stepped just inside the door. ‘I was unforgivably rude to you yesterday, but that doesn’t alter the facts. Everything I said about the people on that island is true. I’ve come here now to ask if I can buy some bandages and medicines from you to send over to them.’
The doctor eyed the priest suspiciously. He could probably make a fair profit from the man. ‘How much do you have to spend?’
‘One hundred drachmas.’
‘It’s not a lot.’
‘According to my calculations it will buy a thousand rolls of bandage and a case of disinfectant.’
Doctor Kandakis swallowed. The man even got his sums right! ‘I don’t have those kind of stocks here. You’ll have to ask at the hospital.’
‘Very well.’ Father Minos had been expecting that. ‘Do you have any medicines I could buy from you?’
‘I am not allowed to sell any medicine without first seeing the patient.’
‘I’m quite prepared to hire a boat for you to visit the patients.’ Father Minos looked at the doctor steadily.
‘I do not have the time. Now, you really must excuse me.’ The door was opened and the doctor stood back to allow the priest to leave.
‘Good day, Doctor. I doubt we shall meet again.’
Doctor Kandakis did not deign to reply. He hoped never to see the meddling priest again.
Yannis could hardly believe it. During the last week the goods that had arrived on the island were beyond his wildest dreams. Manolis had arrived, grinning delightedly, and off-loaded sacks of sand and cement, calling to Flora that Anna was waving to them. Flora had shrugged. Who was Anna? She had called excitedly to Yannis who waited for Manolis to sail out of sight before he came hurrying down to examine the sacks.
‘It’s wonderful! It must be due to Father Minos. There’s only one problem, I’ve no idea what kind of quantities I should mix and I’ve nothing to mix it with.’
‘I’ll ask Manolis for a spade,’ Flora promised him. ‘He said he’d be over tomorrow with some more things. He asked me to tell you that Anna was waving.’
Yannis pulled the girl to him and kissed her on the forehead. ‘That’s one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever heard.’ He released her swiftly and ran up the path to where he had a good view of his village. He waved wildly, screwing up his eyes to try to discern any figure on the opposite shore. Disappointed when he saw no one he turned away to find Flora standing behind him.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked curiously.
‘I thought I might see Anna waving.’
‘Who is she? Your girl?’
Yannis smiled. ‘No, my sister.’ He leaned against the fortress wall and looked across the bay. ‘I used to live over there, in that farmhouse. When I first came here I couldn’t bear to look across the water.’
‘Are you happy here, Yannis?’
‘Happy! What a question! How can you be happy here?’
‘I’m not unhappy. You’ve made it so much better over here.’
‘Not just me, the others have helped.’
‘It was your idea.’ Flora gazed up at him admiringly. ‘I don’t know what we’d do without you, Yannis.’
‘I’m sure someone else could have done just the same.’
‘You won’t leave us, will you, Yannis?’
‘Leave you? How can I?’
Flora squirmed uncomfortably. ‘I just thought that as you had friends who were priests and a family nearby that somehow you might be able to go.’
‘No,’ Yannis sighed. ‘I’m here forever, the same as everyone else. It’s just a coincidence that one of the priests is my cousin and I used to live near here as a child. I used to be so frightened of this place.’
Flora giggled. ‘You are funny, Yannis. You, being frightened.’
‘It’s true. I was.’
Flora was no longer listening to him. ‘Antionis,’ she gasped and fled from Yannis’s side. Yannis followed her; his ears picking up the thin wailing from the women that announced the death of the old man.
Yannis pushed his way to the bedside and took the cold hand in his own. Spiro rubbed his eyes from lack of sleep. ‘He didn’t wake up, Yannis. He went peacefully.’
‘Thank you, Spiro.’ Yannis turned away, dejected. He would have liked to have spent a few moments to say goodbye, but he had no time to dwell on Antionis’s death, the bags of cement had to be moved from the quay and stored where they would stay dry until they were able to use them.
Each day Flora called to Yannis to come and witness the new goods that were arriving, sacks of lime, bundles of new clothes, blankets and shoes. Delightedly people rummaged through, selecting whatever fitted and they needed. The whole atmosphere had changed; from despair and acceptance of their lot had sprung hope. Life was improving.
Every morning Yannis would stand and stare across the stretch of water, hoping to see Anna, but until now he had been disappointed. This morning there seemed to be more activity than usual on the beach and Yannis screwed up his eyes to try to see more clearly. Goods were being loaded and someone was struggling. Some poor sufferer was being sent to the island. Yannis hoped it was not one of his relatives and craned forward to try and see.
‘Be careful, Yannis.’
‘I’m just watching the action over there. I think we’re having a visitor.’
Phaedra leant by his side. ‘Who is it? The priest again?’
‘Judging by the struggle they were putting up I would say it was a fellow sufferer. Look! Look!’ Yannis grabbed Phaedra’s arm. ‘It must be Anna. She’s waving.’
Frantically Yannis waved back. ‘Wave! Wave!’ he shouted at Phaedra who raised her hand obediently.
Slowly the boat drew away from the shore, but still Yannis continued to wave to the tiny figure until his arm ached. Abruptly the waving stopped and the person turned, making their way back up the rough path, followed by a taller figure.
‘It was Anna.’ Yannis’s eyes were alight with pleasure. ‘That must have been Pappa with her.’
Phaedra pulled at Yannis’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s see who’s arrived.’
Yannis, Phaedra and Flora watched the boatmen from the top of the steps. The first thing that came off was a goat, still struggling frantically, until her feet were untied and she was set upright on the ground. The men chased her up the ramp to where the trio stood and Yannis caught her deftly. Holding her by the string that was round her neck he stroked her gently, trying to calm the frightened creature.
‘What does it say?’ Flora had spotted the label.
Yannis turned it towards him. ‘”For Panicos.” Well, he’ll have a good meal tonight.’
‘You can’t eat her.’ Flora spoke in horror.
‘Why not?’
‘She’s having a kid.’
Yannis looked at the distended belly of the animal. ‘You’re right there. Pretty soon by the look of things.’ He looked at the label again and turned it over. ‘I’m pretty stupid,’ he announced. ‘For milk.’
Flora giggled. ‘Poor little goat! Let’s take her to him.’
Once over her first fear the goat was docile and walked sedately between them until they reached Panicos’s house and pushed the animal inside.
‘It’s for you,’ explained Yannis. ‘So you can have some fresh milk.’
‘Where from?’
‘I’m not sure. It doesn’t say. I suspect that Father Minos had a hand in it somewhere. Who else would know you needed milk?’
‘That man’s a saint.’
Privately Yannis agreed with him. The crate of bandages that had arrived two days earlier was the most welcome sight that any of them had seen. At last they would be able to change their soiled rags. The food sent from the mainland had improved; no longer was there a sodden, pulpy mass at the bottom of a box of grapes, or carrots full of small holes where the maggots had made a meal. Yannis wished there was some way he could repay the priest, as he was sure everything was due to him.
Father Minos had been shocked when he opened the moneybag and discovered the amount it contained. He counted note after note, then stowed them safely away again. He would make a list of essentials and budget carefully. To send too much at one time would invite wastage and he doubted if he would ever have such an opportunity again. He negotiated with the hospital for bandages and disinfectant, buying all they could spare and warning them that he would want the same again in a few weeks. He bought every blanket the local shops had to offer and found time to consult with Yiorgo and Elena. Yiorgo assured him the money given by Yannis’s father could well be spared, matching it with a sum almost as great and winking conspiratorially at the priest.
Father Minos could not see how farmers and fishermen could possibly make such a good living that they could hand over a thousand drachmas and insist they had plenty more. It amounted to a sum greater than any he could hope to save in his lifetime. By the end of the week the priest had a reputation for being an eccentric millionaire and the townsfolk were talking of little else apart from the philanthropist who was sending goods to the island to help the lepers who lived there. When he departed he left the balance of the money with Andreas, instructing him to purchase items that Manolis said the islanders needed, and it was with a feeling of accomplishment that he finally boarded the bus to return to Heraklion.
Having settled back into his routine in the town he had the opportunity to visit Pavlos. He called during the day and found the taverna closed, but was assured by a neighbour that it was open each evening. When he returned Pavlos was behind the counter and Father Minos approached him with a smile.
‘Good evening, do you remember me?’
Pavlos glanced at him quickly. One priest was the same as another. ‘Should I?’
‘I called when your sister had just married. It was regarding Yannis and a small matter of the rent.’
Pavlos frowned as he tried to bluff his way out of the difficult situation. ‘That was a long while back. I really can’t say I remember. So much has happened since then; the birth of my little niece, and Pavlakis becoming a town governor. Maybe it’s him you wish to speak to?’
‘Oh, no, it’s quite definitely you.’ Father Minos leant his elbows on the counter. ‘The young student, Yannis, had been staying here. He was taken ill and left rather hurriedly. I came here and broke the news to you. His cousin was with me. I understood that his father had paid you for a year’s board and lodging and the boy was only able to avail himself of half of that time.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ repeated Pavlos. ‘It must have been repaid by now.’
Father Minos raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you have a receipt? When I was speaking to his father last week he was under the impression that it was still owing to him.’
‘I’ll have to speak to my sister. She does the accounts.’
‘Please do. I can wait.’
‘She’s not available at present. She has a small daughter.’
‘I have the whole evening at my disposal. I’m sure she will be able to spare a few moments sooner or later.’ Still smiling amiably Father Minos sat down at a table. ‘I should like a glass of wine whilst I wait.’
Pavlos brought over a bottle and two glasses. Maybe he could ply the priest with drink and make him more amenable. ‘I’ll speak to her. Do you have any idea of the figure involved?’
‘I have it exactly.’ From his pocket the priest drew a sheet of paper. ‘Sixteen drachmas a week, inclusive of all meals and laundry, for six months is three hundred and eighty four drachmas. I understand Yannis’s father paid you eight hundred. He’ll be happy to receive four hundred back.’ Father Minos raised his glass.
‘It’s a lot of money for a poor taverna owner to find.’
‘It’s a lot of money for a poor farmer to lose. I feel sure that his need is greater than yours. His poor son; whom he relied upon to repay him when he had completed his education; never to be seen again; his wife an invalid, needing their daughter to look after her. Just him and a second son to work the farm and try to make a living.’ Father Minos shook his head. ‘It’s very hard.’
‘It’s not easy here,’ Pavlos protested. ‘We do our best, but there’s not the patronage.’
‘I understand you are working and your brother-in-law is a teacher. The taverna should be a nice little addition to your income.’
‘Yiorgo has a position to keep up. Now he is a governor he has to have suits, attend functions, it takes most of his salary.’
‘I’m sure. It would not be advisable for it to be known that his brother-in-law owed a large debt, would it?’ Father Minos refilled his glass. ‘Or, for that matter, that a very sick boy lived here; that could be bad for your business, even after all this time.’
Pavlos pushed back his chair. ‘I’ll fetch my sister.’
From the bottom of the stairs he called to her frantically. ‘Louisa! Louisa, I need you here.’
Frowning with annoyance Louisa descended the stairs. ‘Can’t you be quieter? I’ve only just got her to sleep.’