YANNIS (Cretan Saga Book 1) (38 page)

‘I believe you, friend. We’ll look elsewhere.’

They felt eyes following them as they returned towards the quay. ‘It explains a lot if they thought we were a band of thieves or murderers sent amongst them,’ remarked Panicos. ‘I thought it odd that no one came to look at us out of curiosity. They’re all busy protecting whatever few possessions they have in the mistaken belief that we’re here to rob them.’

‘Let’s get some food and be done. This jug’s heavy and I’m tired.’

Spiro half expected to find the food under guard, but there was no one. The high stone room was littered with crates and boxes, haphazardly placed on the earth floor. High, open windows allowed the light to penetrate and they began to examine the containers.

‘Figs!’ Spiro crammed one into his mouth. ‘I just love figs.’

Between them they gathered bread, cheese, olives, tomatoes and figs, putting it all into one of the empty boxes they found in a corner.

‘I hope we haven’t taken too much,’ observed Spiro, popping another fig into his mouth.

‘I’m sure we’ll be soon be told if we have!’

The two men returned to the sunlight, Panicos putting his hand on Spiro’s arm. ‘What were those boxes and sacks they off loaded? Whilst we’re here we may as well have a look. It could be more food.’

They placed their burdens in the shade and walked through the arch onto the quay. Panicos opened the neck of the first sack and looked at Spiro in surprise.

‘It’s clothing! We can have some clean clothes!’

Spiro pulled a box towards him. Daubed on the top in white paint was a name, the sack next to it was also named.

‘Wait a minute.’ He moved more of the containers; on each there was a roughly painted name. ‘These are our belongings.’ He began to sort through them frantically until he found one bearing his name and undid the neck of the sack eagerly. ‘It’s mine,’ he announced in satisfaction.

Panicos found a box that belonged to him and dragged it to one side. ‘We can’t manage these and the food. Let’s go back and get Yannis to come and help.’

They retrieved the food and water and walked slowly back up the slope to the path, following it until they came to Kyriakos’s shelter. Yannis was lying asleep in the sunshine.

‘Wake up, lazy, see what we’ve got.’

Kyriakos frowned at them. ‘Let him sleep. He’s had a bad time.’

‘We’ve all had a bad time,’ replied Panicos dryly. ‘Stir yourself, Yannis. We need your help.’

Yannis opened a sleepy eye. ‘What?’

‘When they dumped us ashore they also dumped our belongings. There are boxes and sacks down there with our names on. We found ours, but couldn’t manage to bring them back this trip.’

Yannis sat up, suddenly more interested. ‘Tell me.’

‘We went for the water and spoke to a man in one of the houses. He said there was no room, and it was true. There were people everywhere. Then we went down to the quay and made up a box of food. Panicos remembered the boxes and sacks that had been put ashore and we went to have a look at them. They’ve all got names on, so we found ours. Yours must be there somewhere.’

Kyriakos was steadily eating the figs. ‘I suggest you go and get them before someone else does. Bring them back here, they’ll be safe with me.’

Reluctantly Yannis rose to his feet, took a long drink from the jug and prepared to follow his friends. It would be good to change into some cleaner clothes. When they reached the quay the pile of belongings was considerably diminished, men were carrying bundles and pushing boxes back up to the path. Panicos and Spiro checked that their possessions were where they had left them and began to help Yannis search for his. Finally they returned up the slope carrying their belongings.

Once back with Kyriakos they unpacked eagerly, Yannis delighted to find that in the bottom of his box was his treasured collection of books that he had not seen since leaving Heraklion. Each man changed his clothes and Yannis turned to Kyriakos.

‘Is there somewhere we can wash these and maybe have a bath ourselves?’

Kyriakos chuckled. ‘You can use the old laundry, down by the quay, but there’s only sea water for a bath’.

Panicos and Spiro exchanged glances, whilst Yannis picked up his discarded clothing. ‘It’s better than nothing. Are you coming?’

The three men went down to the quay, with their dirty clothes bundled into their arms. One sack was still sitting there and Yannis approached it curiously. His name showed clearly and he began to undo the neck, wondering if it did belong to him. Yannis began to remove articles of clothing that looked vaguely familiar, but were certainly not his. At the bottom of the sack was a small prayer book, which he opened carefully. Written on the flyleaf was the name “Andreas Mandrakis”.

‘I don’t believe it. It’s not possible.’ Yannis sat with the prayer book in his hands. ‘This belongs to my cousin. Is he a leper?’

Spiro shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea, but if he’s on this island we’ll soon find him. Put it to one side and we’ll take it back up with us.’

They immersed their bodies in the sea, before using a shirt from the sack to dry their wet bodies. Despite the salt, which stung their open wounds, they all felt considerably cleaner than they had for years. They rubbed at their old clothes to remove the dirt and carried them back to Kyriakos, spreading them on the ground to dry. Yannis looked again at the prayer book; then placed it carefully in his box with his books.

He felt more relaxed, and he realised with something of a shock that he was more comfortable than he had been for a considerable amount of time. He stretched out his hand for the last fig and Kyriakos shook his head.

‘You’ll spoil your supper.’

‘What supper! We’ll have to go down and get some more bread and cheese before it gets dark.’

Kyriakos smiled to himself ‘Be patient for a while, you could have a surprise.’

Panicos and Spiro suggested a game of cards and Kyriakos accepted eagerly, whilst Yannis preferred to sit and read one of his books. He read slowly, revelling in each word. He had not realised just how much he had missed reading. A savoury smell teased at his nostrils and he looked around curiously. Coming towards them was a young girl carrying a large basket. Kyriakos waved a hand at her.

‘Come and be introduced, Phaedra.’

She smiled at the newcomers and placed her basket on the ground. ‘I hope there’s enough. There’s plenty of bread to go with it.’ She placed earthenware bowls on the ground and filled each one with meat and vegetables.

Yannis ate hungrily; wiping his bowl round with bread, and wishing there was more. ‘That was magnificent,’ he smiled at Phaedra. ‘I don’t know when I last enjoyed a meal so much.’

‘She’s a good girl,’ Kyriakos praised her. ‘She makes sure I have a proper meal each day and does her best with whatever is sent over.’

‘Where do you live?’ asked Panicos.

‘Further up the path.’

Panicos moved a little closer to her. ‘Is there anywhere to live? I mean, a proper building where you’re sheltered from the elements?’

‘Not really, most of the houses are falling down.’

‘Why don’t you repair them?’

Phaedra looked at him scornfully. ‘You haven’t seen the island yet, or the people. I’ll take you on a tour tomorrow. That will answer all your questions.’ She gathered up the bowls and replaced them in her basket. ‘Is there anything you want, Kyriakos?’

‘No, these young men can refill the water jug and settle me down for the night.’

‘How about a walk?’ suggested Spiro, ‘we ought to see how the others have fared.’

Reluctantly Yannis agreed. Despite the fact that it was still light he would have liked to curl up on a mattress and sleep. Panicos yawned hugely, and Yannis guessed he felt the same.

It was only a short walk back to where the waterspout was situated, and that also seemed to be where most people lived. The new arrivals were still clustered together in an apprehensive group and looked relieved when they saw Yannis and Spiro arrive.

‘Have you eaten?’ was the first question Yannis asked and was gratified to find that everyone had made a meal of sorts, although it was doubtful that any of them had eaten a meal as good as his.

Panicos was shaking his head and he called to Yannis to join him. ‘Talk to them, Yannis. They want to insist the occupants make room in their homes for them to shelter for the night.’

‘What am I going to say?’

‘I don’t know, but we must keep them calm or there could be real trouble. We’ve no idea how many people there are on this island or how physically strong they are. If we upset the inhabitants we could be set upon and probably wouldn’t stand a chance. You know this island, you’re the best one to speak to them.’

Yannis sighed wearily; then raised his voice. ‘Listen everyone. Listen.’ He waited until he had gained their attention. ‘We are all newcomers over here. We want to be friends with the inhabitants, but it will take time on both sides. When we arrived they thought we were criminals because of our straitjackets. We have to prove that we are no different from them, ordinary people, who just want to live as best we can. It won’t hurt any of you to sleep in the open tonight. Put on an extra pullover, you’ve all received your boxes. Tomorrow we’ll look around and see if there are any empty houses we can occupy. We need to ask permission, we’re newcomers here, we mustn’t take other people’s homes.’

The men listened in silence, grudgingly agreeing that Yannis was right, and dispersing in twos and threes to find a wall to huddle against for the night.

Yannis soon found the piece of concrete he was laying on became cold and hard. He had donned two pullovers and placed all his other spare clothes beneath him, but it seemed to make no difference. Despite being huddled against Spiro he felt chilled to the bone and thoroughly miserable. Maybe if he went for a walk he would become warmer. Stealthily he rose to his feet and stood for a while rubbing his legs to restore the circulation. Moving slowly he groped his way down the steps and tiptoed along the path. Within a short space of time the outer wall of the fortress curved inwards and the concrete gave way to dirt.

Yannis leaned against the wall and strained his eyes in the darkness. Across the bay pinpricks of light could be seen, and even as he watched they were being obliterated as the people retired to their beds.

‘I’m so sorry, Mamma.’ His hand went to the charm she had given him.

‘What are you doing?’

The voice made Yannis start. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Only me, Phaedra. What are you doing?’ she repeated.

‘I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d walk around.’

‘You’d better go back and wait until the morning before you start walking around. A bit further on the path narrows and there’s a dangerous drop.’

Yannis shrugged. ‘No doubt if I’d fallen people would say it was what I deserved. It’s all my fault they’ve been sent here.’

‘And is it?’

‘I don’t know. I caused trouble, but I only wanted to make things better, not worse. I never thought they’d send us here.’ Yannis spoke miserably.

‘What’s so bad about being here? You said I’d given you the best meal you’d tasted in years, you have your belongings and you can do as you please. Go back to your friends and get some sleep.’

‘Coffee?’ Panicos pushed an enamelled mug of the hot brew into his hands.

Yannis sniffed at it. ‘Is it real coffee?’

Panicos nodded. ‘Phaedra gave it to me.’

Yannis sipped at the mug. It tasted good. ‘Is there anything to eat?’

‘There’s a bit of bread.’

Yannis dipped the bread into his coffee to soften it and munched slowly. ‘Kyriakos,’ he said finally, ‘who’s in charge of this island?’

‘How do I know? The government, I suppose.’

‘No, I mean who amongst you runs the island? Who decides how much food you have and where you live?’

‘No one. You just find somewhere and call it yours.’ Kyriakos shifted his position slightly. ‘If there’d been just one or two of you, you could have been squeezed in somewhere. As it is there are too many of you.’

‘So what can we do?’

‘Talk to Antionis.’

‘Will he be able to help?’

‘I don’t know.’ Kyriakos shut his eyes.

‘Where will I find him?’

‘Down by the water fountain.’

Yannis looked at Panicos and raised his eyebrows. ‘Shall we try to find him?’

‘Nothing to lose.’

‘Bring back some water,’ Kyriakos called after them and Panicos picked up the jug.

‘Where’s Spiro?’

‘He said he was going down to get some food. We can meet him down there.’

Yannis looked across the bay and felt a lump come to his throat as he saw people moving in the fields. They must be his family. ‘Come on,’ he said gruffly and led the way down the steps.

When they reached the domed building Spiro was sitting outside talking to Phaedra.

‘There’s no food,’ he announced. ‘Phaedra said the boats would start coming over soon.’

Yannis nodded, remembering the routine. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Phaedra. Kyriakos suggested I spoke to Antionis. He said he lived by the fountain. Can you show us his house?’

Phaedra looked at the men doubtfully. ‘It would be better if only one of you went or he might feel threatened.’

‘You go,’ said Panicos to Yannis. ‘It was your idea. I’ll stay with Spiro.’

Yannis followed Phaedra, remembering to thank her for providing him with coffee. ‘We only ever had water in the hospital. It was wonderful to smell and taste coffee again.’

‘I said you were better off here. Treat Antionis gently, won’t you? He’s an old man.’

‘Of course I will. I’m not a ruffian, despite whatever Spiro may have said about me.’

Phaedra smiled to herself. ‘He didn’t say you were a ruffian. Here we are.’ She rapped smartly on a door. ‘Antionis! One of the hospital men wants to speak to you.’

The door opened, sightless eyes peered out into the sunshine. ‘Where is he?’

Phaedra took the old man by the arm and led him towards Yannis. ‘He’s here.’

The old man eased himself down onto the ground and Yannis squatted beside him.

‘What do you want?’

‘Kyriakos suggested I spoke to you.’ Yannis struggled for the correct words. ‘I want everyone to know that we want to be friends. All we want is a fair share of the food and somewhere to shelter.’