In the Shade of the Monkey Puzzle Tree (23 page)

‘
An olive grove?’ Tasia asks.

‘
Yes.’ Theo’s heart lifts. ‘You can choose it.’

She studies her hands.

‘This is all so unexpected, Mr Theo.’ Tasia uses the traditional, respectful form of address. His heart sinks again.

‘
Please, just Theo,’ he implores.

‘
I mean, we talked and we got on, but this just seems to be out of the blue.’

‘
But I knew you were special.’ The words sound awkward even to his own ears. Lambros stirs his coffee for something to do. Theo wants to stop him, tell him to leave the grounds to settle.

‘
Yes, but marriage?’ Tasia sounds shocked.

‘
Courtship?’

‘
An olive grove?’

‘
Anything.’

‘
How will you pay for this olive grove?’ Lambros butts in, his eyes narrowed.

‘
I have twenty years of pay saved and twenty years of profits from the
kafeneio
near Saros,’ Theo answers, eyes steady, his chest expanding.

‘
You want to keep that to yourself,’ Tasia says scanning the empty room and the street outside.

‘
I will keep it to myself and my wife,’ Theo counters. When she looks in his eyes, he can feel his stomach turning to jelly. He has never felt so excited in his life. He should have got married years ago. She is perfect.

‘
Will you excuse us, Mr Theo?’ Tasia stands.

‘
Theo,’ he corrects.

She nods, granting his request.
‘I just want to have a word with my baba in private.’ They go through the door at the back.

A man comes in and looks at Theo.

‘Coffee please,
glyko
.’ Theo nods, his mind on what Tasia and Lambros might be saying. His life is being decided behind a closed door.

He fills the
briki
and adds the sugar. The matches are damp now, but he finds a lighter in a drawer.

With patience, he waits to put the coffee in. It is almost done when Tasia and Lambros come back out. Neither of them seem surprised to see him serving their customer. They sit back at the table and wait for Theo to join them.

‘This is all too sudden,’ Tasia says. Theo rubs his knuckles into his palm. Bob scratches himself beneath his chair.

Perhaps she needs to be courted, persuaded. If he takes on the Diamond Rock Cafe, he will be close enough to see her often. But Iro and Panayotis, back in the village, got engaged just because they were near each other so often, it just became the inevitable conclusion. What if someone spends every day in Tasia
’s
kafeneio
with the same intention? Someone who does not have a lease to uphold, a business to run? She could slip through his fingers and into their hands. He needs to seal the deal somehow.

‘
I have a different proposition. But first a question. Do you like working here? Is this your dream?’ This might work. His stomach knots.

‘
It is not my dream, it’s our job. We get by,’ Tasia replies. Theo wants to hear her laugh again, this is all so serious. ‘My dream is to have an olive grove, make oil, be close to nature.’

‘
So we make oil together.’ Theo grins. Tasia frowns. ‘First, we make the foundation of our life. We buy an olive grove, you tend the trees and make the oil. I will run my—no, our
kafeneio
. We will manage the business side of the olive farm together, and this way, we will get to know each other more. I will add some sugar to our business arrangement with a little bit of courtship here and there, and we will wait for our
briki
to come to the boil.’ Theo sits back, impressed with his own cleverness.

‘
And if it doesn’t boil?’ Tasia asks.

Theo
’s stomach drops. ‘You think it will not?’

‘
Theo, you are good company. Funny, wise, and, judging by today, generous.’ All hardness seems to have left her. ‘I can see no reason why we should not “boil,” as you put it.’ She giggles, and colour comes to her cheeks. But in a moment, her mood changes and she is serious. ‘But if it does not, what then? We will have the complication of having an olive grove together?’

‘
So we have an olive grove together. You have your dream and you have a business partner.’

‘
And there will be no pressure?’ Tasia gives him a sly look.

‘
No pressure.’ Theo feels he is being honest.

‘
I warn you I am a very independent person.’

‘
Accepted.’ Theo stares at her with awe, impressed to find such strength in someone who looks so fragile.

‘
Please give me another moment.’ Tasia stands and Lambros follows her from the room, shrugging his shoulders. Theo can hear nothing but murmurs. He hopes she will come out laughing, fall in his arms, and hug him. The sun will come out and a thousand doves will land on the wilting tree in the road, cooing their song of courtship.

The door opens.

Her face is stiff, Lambros looks sad.

She does not sit.

‘I am sorry Theo, it is too sudden. It feels like a big step to make with a stranger.’

‘
But we are not strangers. We searched through ads together to find me a job. We laughed and got on so well.’ Theo stands.

‘
You came into the shop four or five days in a row, and that’s it.’ Tasia’s voice reaches a higher pitch.

‘
But if you know, you know …’ Theo’s voice has also raised. He can see her slipping away.

‘
I think it would be unwise of me,’ Tasia says, looking at the floor.

‘
I think you are scared,’ Theo says. Lambros nods in agreement. ‘Lambros, please tell her.’

Lambros holds both his hands up.

‘I’ve not been able to tell her a thing since she was five,’ he says and takes a step backwards.

‘
Tasia?’ Theo implores.

‘
I think there is no more to be said.’

‘
Although. Tasia,’ Lambros steps forward again. ‘You did say, after that last young man that came courting you and you turned him down, that you would not make the same mistake again or you would end up an old maid.’

Theo takes a small step towards Lambros, glimpsing hope.

‘Which would be a shame,’ Theo continues.

‘
Perhaps it is better to take a risk?’ her baba pleads.

‘
What would you lose?’ Theo asks.

‘
So, this is how it is to be, is it? The two of you bullying me?’ Tasia is calm. Theo’s face grows hot.

‘
No, I, well, I just think …’ Theo stammers.

‘
I think you should leave.’ Tasia seems offended.

‘
No. Please, just listen.’ His arms are in front of him, palms upwards, Bob behind his heels.

‘
I have, and now I feel bullied.’ She walks to the door and opens it for him.

‘
But …’ Theo searches for something to say to make right the situation.

‘
Can I have another coffee please?’ the one customer asks. Tasia takes his cup. Lambros shakes his head and with a vague wave indicates Theo should leave.

‘
Hot-headed,’ he whispers as Theo steps into the street. ‘Always has been. Stubborn.’

Theo knows the sun is on him, but he cannot feel it. He is not sure how he has ended up outside on the pavement. He never saw that coming. This was not part of the plan.

Bob yawns noisily.

In the
kafeneio
, there is no sign of Tasia. Lambros is behind the counter, making coffee.

Theo
’s gaze drops down to the flagstones. He falls into a stare. It all feels so hard, like everything is a fight. Ever since he first landed in Athens, he has been fighting: for a home, a job, with Jimmy, Dimitri. Fighting to keep his morals, his pride, his sanity. Fighting for lives, the children’s’, the Gypsy mama, and his own life. Just a big nasty mess of negative struggle.

He thinks to walk to his flat. He hopes the Gypsies are alright. At least they have enough to start again. That was a good thing. Better than Dimitri having the cash to pay someone to break someone
’s legs. What kind of world is that, when a man breaks another man’s legs?

He doesn
’t want to think about it all. If he goes back to his rooms, he will also have to deal with Margarita’s mama, who will, no doubt, screech at him about her dog. It’s more than he can face.

He reaches out for Bob
’s head and is rewarded with a lick. He will not go back there and risk losing Bob. He has left nothing behind, and he owes nothing. It is rude not to let her know but, he swears quietly under his breath, he is sick of being the considerate one for these Athenians.

But then, if he doesn
’t go there, where will he live if he takes the lease of the bar? His arms drop limply. Just the thought of the Diamond Rock Cafe exhausts him right now. He looks back through the window. Still no Tasia. She made her thoughts clear. He thought he knew her a little, but it turns out, he does not know her at all.

‘
Damn this city,’ he grunts and turns on his heels and walks the way he came. ‘I never felt this miserable or this stressed in the village. Bored. Annoyed, maybe, but never like this.’ Bob runs by his side, looking up, sensing something wrong. Theo stops, squats to look Bob in the face.

‘
Never, Bob. In fact, the only good thing to come out of this place is you.’ Bob licks his face. Theo stands. He wishes he was above the
kafeneio
in the village in his bed with Bob on his feet and the sun streaming through both the front windows, the square on display at his feet. Where life is a little easier, a lot softer, and people are thoughtful of each other. Where if something is hard, it can be talked about, torn to pieces, and laughed at by the men of the village.

Where life has some heart.

‘Come on, Bob.’ Theo begins to trot.

Age 41 Years, 1 Month, 27 Days

Theo wakes, mostly hanging off the side of his little bed, Bob’s head on the pillow. He makes a mental note to get a bigger bed.

He got back so late last n
ight that there was no one to give him a lift from Saros to the village and he had to walk. He knows he has slept late. Yesterday was exhausting, not just with all the travel but with the emotion.

He did the decent thing in the end, before he left Athens. Bought some paper and envelopes, wrote a note to Margarita, and put it under the bakery door. The bakery was closed, and he was grateful it was. Nice as Eleni and Timotheos are, he did not want the big exchange of greeting and the explanations of his movements.

He put another envelope under the door of the Diamond Rock Cafe for Phaedon, thanking him for the offer and explaining that he will not be taking the lease. He invited him down to the village, too. He likes the man, would be happy to keep in touch. He was surprised how much relief he felt after writing this letter.

Bob, who drooped a little with the walk from Saros to the village in the deep of the night, became excited when they entered the square. He rushed up to the side door and then up the stairs to the rooms above the
kafeneio
and was on the bed before Theo reached the top and lit a candle.

Today, he will sort out the electrics, get the lights working. Or tomorrow.

At the moment, he needs to just be by himself. Any thoughts of Tasia, he pushes away. It was a stupid idea. He has been on his own forty-one years. What on earth made him think he could change that?

Bob is by the door, whining to go out. Theo cannot face taking him for a walk. He opens the door and Bob belts out into the square. Theo goes back to bed. At some point, he thinks he hears someone tapping on the door, but as no one knows he is in the village, he dismisses it and falls back to sleep. By evening, he is hungry. But his need to be alone is greater. A scratching at the door can only be Bob, and Theo wonders how he has been all day, locked out in an unknown village. He opens the door to a happy dog stinking of fish. Also on the step is something with a board on the top and a stone on top of that. Theo pushes off the weight and the cover to find a square metal dish of oven-roasted lamb and potatoes. He recognises his mama’s cooking. Lifting it in before he is seen, he closes the door. So his mama knows he is here. That explains the dog’s smelling of fish.

He eats hungrily and washes it down with
ouzo
from one of the crates, as there is nothing else. The place needs a tap as well as a source of electricity. With the money his baba gave him, he can put a whole bathroom in. Maybe he will, in the room next door. And a kitchen.

The
ouzo
makes him feel sad. He screws the lid back on tightly, determined not to go down that road again.

The next day, he lets Bob out again and when he scratches to come in, there is another dish and a bottle of water. Today, Theo feels a bit better, but only because he is safe in his hidden world. He cannot face anyone, not yet.

On the third day, he stops sleeping all day and watches the village pass by in front of his
kafeneio
. His heart leaps a little when he sees his mama talking to Vasso in the kiosk. He wonders how his baba is.

The fourth day, there is a loud knock on the door. Theo resents the demand, the need to respond but knowing his mama must have cooked something, he trudges down the steps and opens the door.

‘Vasso!’

‘
Hello, Theo,’ she says and waits to be invited in. Theo is not yet ready for this invasion, so he leans against the doorpost and pulls the door nearly closed behind him.

Vasso takes the hint. She folds her arms and settles her stance.

‘Theo, I just wanted a word with you about the kiosk.’

Theo
’s lips part. He consciously shuts his mouth. The kiosk has nothing to do with him.

‘
Business has been bad for these last, humm, about, six weeks or so. Since your baba took ill.’ She smiles warmly, her eyes twinkling. Her hair, as always, is perfectly set. Theo struggles with the fact that they are the same age. Even though he remembers her from back in school, she seems so much more adult than him somehow.

‘
I am sorry to hear that.’

‘
Yes, and Mr and Mrs Papadopoulos are in separate rooms again.’ This is the last thing Theo wants to hear, the local gossip.

‘
But not just them, Iro and Panayotis have had a big row.’

Theo does not want to hear about his friends, either. He is struggling enough with his own worries. There is no need to hear any of this. He looks behind him at the crack in the door, his escape, and wonders how he can make her go away.

‘Here’s what I think,’ Vasso continues. ‘The church is the soul of the village. Without it, we would all become heathens.’ Theo tries to remain patient, say nothing, give no retort, and she will go away the sooner. ‘The bakery is the stomach. Obviously. We depend on them for bread and to cook our Sunday roasts. The kiosk is the lungs.’ She laughs at her own joke—her income depends on the sale of cigarettes. Theo just wants her to leave. This talk is pointless.

‘
So I ask you Theo, where is the heart of the village?’

He is caught by the question; he didn
’t expect to be asked to participate. He shrugs.

‘
The
kafeneio
, Theo, is the heart,’ she states emphatically. ‘It is where the men can air their grievances and escape their wives so they can live amicably together when they return home. Mr Papadopoulos needs his time away from Mrs Papadopoulos no matter how much they love each other, the same for Panayoti and Iro. The
kafeneio
pumps the life force through this village, erasing petty domestic squabbles with the time it allows couples to be apart. The men, they need to argue politics to feel they are making a difference to the world. The wives need time off. It is the purifying system: stale in, fresh out.’ Her arms have unfolded as she waves them to gesticulate and accent her points. Now she points to Theo.

‘
Also, the
kafeneio
pushes the men to the kiosk to buy their cigarettes, which they need when they play
tavli
and drink
ouzo
and shout politics and air their views.’

She pauses for breath, her hands relaxing to her sides.

‘So, in short Theo, the whole village needs the
kafeneio
to open again. Before I go out of business and couples get divorced.’ She lets out a small peal of laughter to conclude her speech, and with a touch on his arm, she invites him to share.

‘
You are too much, Vasso,’ Theo says but with no ill will, smiling and shaking his head at her thinly disguised motive. But her silly humour and animated monologue has distracted him from his internal world, and she does have a point. She laughs at herself so heartily, it is infectious.

‘
I am shutting up now, Theo. But think about what I have said.’ She waves a little goodbye as she turns to go back to her kiosk.

Over that day and the next, Vasso’s words do come back to him. She is right: Without the
kafeneio
, where is the hub of the village? The last taverna closed down ten years ago, when old Spiros and his wife died childless. If he cannot get his own life together, he can at least help other people to keep theirs on an even path.

On the fifth day, he emerges from his sanctuary with no ceremony at seven o
’clock in the morning and unlocks the tall metal-framed glass doors of the
kafeneio
, and takes his spot behind the counter. The first coffee he makes on the familiar gas stove is his own, but news travels fast around the village, and the men soon begin to arrive. No one mentions his absence. They order coffee just as they have always done and allow Theo his space. To start with, the atmosphere is more calm than usual in the
kafeneio
, as though the patrons are breathing a collective sigh of relief. But it’s not long before the arguing and shouting begin and things are back to their happy norm. Stathis comes in and tries not to make it obvious how happy he is to see Theo. He almost manages.

‘
Missed your coffee, my friend,’ he says very quietly as he watches Theo watching the water boil.

Mitsos also struggles to hide his joy. He sits by the counter, talking about nothing, describing how big his oranges are, just like Damianos used to do. But this is not a place for displays of emotion, and little else is said that would indicate there has been any break in the routine.

By the end of the day, he feels he has never been away, apart from the room he made in his heart for Tasia, which now is a gaping hole. Bob does his best to fill it, but he is not quite big enough.

He visits his baba in the afternoon when the
kafeneio
closes at
mesimeri
and people go home to sleep. His baba is up now, in a chair in the kitchen, looking much better, pink instead of grey. He, too, refrains from remarking on Theo’s absence and asks instead of his plans for the rooms that look over the square. Theo is cautiously excited to talk this over with him, aware he is building a new relationship with the old man. It is more equal and he is happy to find he enjoys his baba’s company on this footing.

Before he even notices it, a week has passed. He has a tap in his rooms now and a bigger bed and plans for both a bathroom and kitchen. He has also found a mirror so he can control his halo of frizz before he descends to open the heart of the village.

All in all, he considers he has escaped his adventures relatively unscathed, almost as if they never happened. One afternoon, his mama gives him a letter. He looks it over carefully, notes the American stamp. It can only be Damianos. He still misses him.

Winter is closing in on the village; soon, he will need a stove in his new home. But for now, the sun bravely heats two squares of bed through each of his windows. Bob is sprawled in one of these patches of sun and Theo is in the other as he tears the letter open.

My Friend Theo,

I have good news. I am returning with my wife and her sister.

Theo stops reading. The hole in his heart, which he has been doing such a good job of ignoring, is torn open afresh, and it feels like Tasia is in the room. He looks around to assure himself he is alone before letting out a big sob, allowing the tears to flow. Bob wriggles close to him, licks his hand, stretches his short neck to lick his face.

Theo doesn’t fight the tears. He lets them engulf him. He would be happy to drown, be swallowed up in his loneliness. Let the big black hole absorb him, sucking him dry, until he crumbles into dust and is blown away by the wind.

The tears eventually stop, his breathing settles. He lifts the letter and continues.

‘You will love her sister!! They are both excited to come to the village to live, and I have told them all about you. I will write again when we are on our way.

See you soon my friend.

Damian,

P.S. Marriage is great, can’t think why I did not do it years ago.

Theo has no tears left. It will be good to have his friend back. Maybe that will bring him some joy, a little
kefi
.

He can hope.

It is about a week later that a second envelope is pushed under the door of the
kafeneio
. Damianos must be on his way, but it makes little difference to Theo when he comes. One day is pretty much like another.

The old men leave the
kafeneio
very late that night. Some of them talk about Damianos’ imminent return, feigning disapproval that he has married in America rather than bringing his fiancée to the village to marry her here with her friends and family around him.

That evening in his rooms, Theo looks around him. Tries to see his place through Damianos
’ world-travelled eyes. He does need to put a kitchen in, a carpet on the floor. It might make him feel a little more joy.

But for now, he has his big bed and Bob.

‘Come on, boy.’ He pulls the animal close. Theo tears the top off the envelope. Depending on when Damianos is due, he could plan to smarten the place up, at least get a carpet.

He unfolds the letter.

He could get a rug tomorrow, ask his mama to put up curtains. She would love that. He reads.

Dear Theo,

I have changed my mind, I hope you haven
’t changed yours. Let’s grow olives.

Tasia
.