Ben (9 page)

With a send-off like that I felt capable of flying the ninety minutes to Kos on my own. Once I saw the tiny propeller-powered
Olympic plane waiting on the runway, I wished I could. But it was fine. Nothing could ruin things now. After what I’d just experienced, after twenty-four hours of travelling, I really felt we were on our way to paradise.

I thought I knew the sea. I’d lived by it for long enough and spent all my teen summers in or near it. As the little Olympic Airlines plane left the beigey-white expanse of mainland Greece behind, I realised the brown dishwater waves of the North Sea around Skegness were unrecognisable compared to the turquoise carpet of ocean beneath me now. It was blue, blue, blue for as far as I could see. Goosebumps ran down my arms. I wasn’t cold; I was excited.

Landing passed without incident and we made it through the customs checks and into the arrivals lounge. But where was our welcoming committee? I scanned the whole hall and couldn’t spot a single familiar face. I tried to keep cool but after everything else, I was panicking. I knew my parents’ address but I had no money for a taxi or a bus to get there. Then I wondered,
Is something wrong?

Fighting the growing desire to scream, I put my bag down by a pillar and walked as far as I dared in every direction. For a second I thought I saw someone who looked like Stephen with long hair, but I dismissed him and carried on scanning the faces. Ben was amazingly cheerful if not very helpful. He kept saying, ‘Where’s Nana? Where’s Nana?’ which just made me feel even more uptight.

Just about holding it together, I trudged back to the bags – and saw my dad, my mum, Danny and Ben the dog, followed by a long-haired Stephen. It
had
been him! They all looked so amazingly healthy. Glowing tans were one thing, but they all had the
look of people without a care in the world. You could tell just by looking that they were happy, and not just because we’d arrived. Whatever new lives they’d carved for themselves on Kos, it was working. I’d never seen bigger smiles on anyone in my life.

Ben nearly fell out of my arms as he flung himself towards his nan. His little legs were running in mid-air just trying to get to her. I thought I was all cried out but I could feel a few more drops coming. This was where I was meant to be.

We all piled into the Land Rover and drove back to Paradisi and the caravan. It was a forty-minute journey but it felt like seconds. Everyone was in party mood, talking fifteen to the dozen. Ben was being barraged by questions left, right and centre but he just wanted to talk to his namesake in the back. I couldn’t take my eyes off the scenery: olive trees covered the hills, while rows of pure whitewashed-brick villas lined the streets. The further we got from the airport, the more I started spotting old women dressed head to toe in black. It was like a uniform. My family, all sporting shorts and T-shirts, couldn’t have stood out more. Above it all was the light blue sky, as endless and unspoilt as the ocean had been on the way here. If I weren’t holding Ben so tightly I would have pinched myself. It was like stepping onto Fantasy Island.

Greek drivers like to use their horns every couple of seconds, so it was a relief when Dad finally pulled off the road, turned down a short drive, then parked outside a familiar-looking caravan. The last time I’d seen it, it was looking the worse for wear outside their home in Chapel St Leonards. Now it was surrounded by olive and fig trees on one side, the driveway at the front and fields everywhere else. It might not have been everyone’s cup of tea, but to me it looked magical.

What Dad had rented was originally an overgrown patch of field. A few months later, their little domain was worthy of an episode of
Grand Designs
. Dad and Stephen had hacked down the foliage and cut back all the trees and bushes, leaving the caravan in a picturesque clearing with views of green whichever way they looked. They’d put up a cane fence all the way round and turned it into their own private haven, with large vegetable patches on one side and a beautiful seat carved out of a tree on the other. They’d even built a shelter so they could sit outside without danger from the sun. Mum hadn’t been exaggerating – Paradisi really was idyllic.

Ben saw it, too. As soon as he was released from the Land Rover he pulled his shoes and socks off and ran off to explore. He hadn’t got far when he turned and called out, ‘Nanny, get me, get me, get me!’ Greek grass, as he had just discovered, wasn’t like English grass. It is coarse and spiky and quite vicious if you have such tender young skin. After that experience, Ben wouldn’t go anywhere without company. And certainly not without his shoes and socks.

Mum was relieved when she finally caught up with him.

‘Look what I’ve got for you, Ben.’

She led us to the other side of the shelter where the grass was shortest. There was a paddling pool, already filled with water warmed by the sun, a tricycle, a pushchair, a cot, buckets, spades – you name it, Mum had it ready for us. After the generosity I’d experienced that day, very little could have surprised me, but this took my breath away. Mum had borrowed everything from friends whose own children had moved on to other things. Ben didn’t know what to play with first.

Eventually, Mum managed to drag us into the caravan for the guided tour.

‘This is where Nana lives, Ben,’ she said, and let him run into her bedroom. Then she led us into the lounge and explained to Ben that the sofas there would convert into beds later on. ‘This is your and Mummy’s bed. Can you imagine it?’

I was worried about space but Mum said, ‘Stephen hasn’t slept in here for weeks.’ It was so hot he preferred to take his pillow and sheet and sleep on the roof of the empty chicken coop at the back of the caravan, like Snoopy.

Ben and I were so tired that after a light meal outside we snuggled down for the night in our new home. I’m sure I was still smiling as I drifted off.

Hearing Ben squeal with laughter was a wonderful way to wake up. I lay listening to him for a few seconds before I sat bolt upright, head spinning round. Where was I? I couldn’t help smiling as I remembered.

If anything, day two in Kos was even better. The caravan was fifteen minutes from Psalidi beach, so that’s where we all headed. As many happy memories as I had of the dunes and shelters at Chapel, Psalidi was out of this world. Watching Ben busy with his bucket and spade, or making friends with the few other people out in April, made my heart swell. He was so content, so happy to mess around in the surf with his uncles, or introduce himself to strangers. There could not have been a prouder mummy.

Each day passed like a scene from a blissful holiday postcard. In the evenings we would eat out at local tavernas. I’d never heard of dishes like
souvlaki
or
saganaki
but before long they were my
regular order. Greek people, Dad explained, rarely ate at home. Because the weather was so nice, they preferred to dine outside, at restaurants or bars, with as many other people as possible. They were an incredibly sociable people. I saw families of twenty eating out together on a weekday night, children in tow. There was no special occasion. That’s just how they were.

Ben slipped easily into that lifestyle. As soon as he’d finished his meal he’d be wandering around the other tables making friends with any other children present or just smiling and giggling at the grown-ups. He had such a cheeky face he was always met with a tickle or a pat on the head. What he liked most, though, was seeing all the stray cats and dogs prowling around the taverna entrance. As quickly as the bar owners and waiters were shooing the animals away, Ben was snatching meat from his plate or those of strangers and throwing it over to the nearest little kitty.

Despite the age gaps – ten and sixteen years respectively – Ben, Danny and Stephen got on like brothers. If Danny could have skipped school to play with Ben he would have done (although he probably would have skipped school even to wash up, given half the chance). Danny loved playing his Elvis CDs and Ben would dance away. With Stephen, Ben had a harder choice: go exploring for animals or have little rides on the back of Stephen’s 50cc motorbike. They’d only pootle around the caravan site at about two miles an hour, with Stephen keeping a firm grip of Ben, so there was no danger of accidents, but to look at Ben’s face you’d think he was breaking the sound barrier.

By day four I can honestly say I hadn’t thought of England once. Kos was my home now. I was with my parents and I was
with my son. My fiancé would be joining as soon as he could. Even if he didn’t, there was nothing for me at home any more.

Dad and Stephen had found building work on some of the many half-finished properties in the area. Poor Danny was enrolled at a school for Greek children, which he hated. That left Mum free to spend time with us. She was also free in the evenings, and soon offered to babysit Ben if I wanted to go out with Stephen. My brother had already scouted the local hostelries and had a few he wanted to take me to. Most of them, it seemed, were on a stretch of road called ‘Bar Street’, for obvious reasons.

As the season was still barely alive the bars weren’t that full: the customers they did have were mostly Greek. That didn’t matter. After sharing every night under the same roof as Ben from the moment we’d left Sandy Lodge, it was just so refreshing to get out of the house, to have a bit of time to myself, to let my hair down.

Kos wasn’t expensive by any means. Still, it wasn’t fair to expect my parents to keep me and, after asking around, I heard there was a job going about a ten-minute walk from the caravan. The Palm Beach Hotel was looking for someone to work breakfast and evening shifts in the dining room, as well as spend afternoons frying and serving poolside snacks. I obviously said something right at the interview because not only did the manager, a young guy called Manos, offer me a position, he also agreed to take on my mum as well.

The last thing I wanted was to be away from Ben but without Simon around to support us, what choice did I have? In any case, Ben was just as happy playing with his grandparents and uncles as he was spending time with me. If I’m honest, he probably enjoyed having a break from seeing my face all the time. I know Mum in
particular would have looked after him every minute if I’d let her. She loved having him.

We quickly fell into a routine. If I was working lunchtimes, I’d push Ben over to Mum’s, leave him there and go to work. If I stayed to do the evening shift as well, then Ben would sleep at the caravan. Or if I was on breakfasts, I would drop him off the night before. Mum only worked the lunchtime shift and never when I was on, so there was never a problem with childcare.

Far from resenting me working, I think Ben enjoyed it because of the perks. Manos insisted that my family feel free to use the hotel’s facilities at any time so, while I sweated away dishing up French fries and burgers, I was able to watch my son bobbing up and down in the water in his arm bands while either Stephen, Danny or Mum kept him company. I once saw him take a stray cat into the shallow end with him, much to the cat’s displeasure – Mum was laughing too hard to stop him.

When I wasn’t working, I’d take Ben to the beach. Mum would usually come and so too would her friend Athena and her son, Alex. Alex had just turned three so it was mostly his toys and clothes that Mum had acquired for Ben. Athena and her husband Dino were lovely people and it rubbed off on Alex. Watching him and Ben play together, they could have been brothers.

Ben loved the beach. It was like being at the swimming pool but the water was bigger and better. Before he could go near either, of course, he had to be covered in sun cream. The Greeks used to say the April and May sun was worse than summer so it was important to keep children covered. I think Ben was drilled a bit too well. I was watching him toddle around one time, in his own world, when he stopped next to a couple of sleeping sunbathers.
I turned for a second to get Mum’s attention. When we looked back, Ben had found a tube of lotion from somewhere and was slapping it extremely liberally onto his chest and arms. By the time I got over there, the sunbathers had woken up – which was not surprising, considering the amount of cream splattered over their legs. I was so embarrassed at my tiny little tealeaf, but they laughed it off. Then, as I stood with them, Ben found someone
else’s
bag and dived down into that instead. It was a full-time job keeping him out of other people’s belongings. To strangers he must have looked so cute helping himself. I only saw the mischievous little urchin who’d disobeyed my instruction.

On days when I worked afternoon and evening shifts, I’d spend the hour in between diving and sunbathing. After the evening shift I would often stroll over to the bar and have a beer with the two guys who ran it. Martin and Peter were both English, so they got on well with the mostly British clientele, but they were also nice lads. It was really great to be able to unwind with them when my shift finished at ten o’clock. I’d sit at the bar, they’d be on the other side, and we’d put the world to rights for half an hour or so until I began the walk home.

Mum didn’t last long at Palm Beach. I think she preferred looking after her grandson to working. Fortunately for the family, Dad and Stephen won a new contract at the same time Mum was handing in her notice. Dad’s sociable nature had so far been responsible for them getting the plot for the caravan, acquiring all the kit for Ben from friends and getting my apartment at a knockdown price. Now he had met a man in a bar who had a proposition. His wife’s family had a rundown farmhouse up in the hills in a village called Iraklis. It was her dream to renovate the
property to its pre-war glory. And it was her husband’s lot to do whatever she wanted.

The man was called Michaelis Kypreos and he really was a good sort. As well as providing jobs for our two men, he said Dad could move the caravan up to the site and take advantage of the free water and electricity connections that ran to the dilapidated cottage. Not only would they be getting a wage and free utilities, they wouldn’t have to pay rent on the premises – and they’d never have an excuse for being late for work.