YANNIS (Cretan Saga Book 1) (73 page)

Numbly she gazed around. The whole place had an air of neglect. More for something to occupy her than a desire to restore order, she ran some water into a bowl and began to mop the tables. The slightest sound made her start, yet she dared not go out to investigate lest she be caught up in the carnage that she was certain was taking place. Of Yiorgo there was no sign.

She wondered if the market was functioning. On inspecting her cupboards she had found the salad items in a slimy, mouldering mass, bread covered in a green film and cheese that was as hard as a rock. The smell when she opened her meat safe sent her reeling back and she slammed the door shut hurriedly, unable to face cleaning it out. The only food that was eatable was a bag of rice and another of sultanas. At least she would not starve. She cooked an unpalatable mess of rice and managed a little, washed down with wine, of which she had a plentiful supply, all the time watching through the taverna windows for any sign that her neighbours were returning. The silence was oppressive and she moved restlessly round the room once she had finished eating.

She jumped, and then stiffened in fear as a muffled booming came to her ears. Anxiously she peered through the windows. If only someone would pass by! As if in answer to her prayer an elderly man staggered round the corner, clutching at the wall and window frames for support. In an instant Louisa had unlocked the door and was at his side.

‘What’s happening? Tell me what’s happening.’

He pointed to his leg where the sticky, red blood was oozing through his trousers. ‘Butchery. That’s what’s happening. Bloody butchery!’

Louisa supported his weight. ‘Come in. I’ll bind up your wound.’

Half-fainting and unresisting he allowed her to lead him across the room and sank gratefully into a chair. She passed him a bottle of wine with a trembling hand. She had little idea what she should do apart from clean the wound and bandage it, hoping she would not faint whilst doing so. ‘How did it happen?’

‘Bayonet.’

‘Can you remove your trousers?’

He dropped his trousers to his knees and Louisa felt the bile rising in her as she looked at the gaping flesh. Sweating with fear and revulsion she mopped the blood away from the damaged skin.

‘I can’t do much,’ she admitted. ‘You’ll have to get it stitched. I’ll bandage it up as best I can. Can you try to hold it together?’ she asked.

Wincing, he pushed the two flaps of skin as close as he could whilst she used a grubby tea towel as a makeshift bandage. She passed him the bottle of wine again.

‘Tell me what’s happening.’

‘You must be the only one in town that doesn’t know!’

‘My husband told me not to go out and not to let anyone in. I saw a crowd go past this morning, but they haven’t come back yet.’

‘Doubt many of them will! We were trying to hold the wall, but it’s hopeless. We haven’t got the weapons. I was at the Chanion Gate, but it can’t hold much longer. There’s dead and dying everywhere.’ He took another mouthful from the bottle. ‘I must get home. My wife’s on her own; you can come with me if you want. I don’t live far and my wife won’t mind.’

Louisa felt tempted; then she remembered Yiorgo’s instructions. He would be quite distraught if he arrived home to find she was missing. ‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I promised my husband I’d wait here.’

He limped to door and turned back. ‘God keep you safe.’

She shut the door and watched as he made his way painfully and slowly down the road until he turned the corner and was out of her sight. Without his presence the muffled booming assaulted her ears again and she remembered that she had asked him for no explanation of the noise.

Another mess of rice and sultanas, accompanied by half a bottle of wine and Louisa felt a little better. By the morning everything would surely be back to normal. She sat where she was until the light went and darkness enveloped the street. It was then that she heard the neighbours returning, scuffling, dragging their feet, some groaning, she could hear them going by at intervals. It was over then. The injured man had been wrong and the defence of the gates had been successful. Feeling incredibly weary she climbed the stairs in darkness, remembering Yiorgo’s instructions that she must not light the lamp unless she were certain it would not be seen from outside. The oil was low and it gave off only a dim flicker. She must remember to refill it. Maybe she would be able to get some decent food tomorrow. Her stomach growled angrily, upset by the mixture of rice and wine. No doubt Yiorgo would be able to leave the council offices in the morning and he would insist that one of the general stores sold them provisions. With this comforting thought she fell asleep.

She was not sure what it was that woke her. It was still dark and she lay, listening. Footsteps. It must be Yiorgo. She sat up, waiting for the door to open, but when it did the light of a torch blinded her. She shielded her eyes as best she could, trying to avoid the merciless beam.

‘Well, well, all alone.’ The voice was mocking and familiar.

‘Mr Dubois!’ The delight sounded in her voice. ‘Give me a moment to light the lamp.’

‘There is no need. Stay where you are. I hoped to find your husband here. I wanted to ask him for a few names, so that we know which men to seek out and ask advice from.’

‘What men?’

‘Those who are on the council.’

‘I know some of them.’

‘Then you could help me.’

‘Has my brother left Crete? He said you were going to help him to go away.’

‘He left some weeks ago, my dear. You need not worry over him any longer. Maybe you would like to join him some time? Now, the names.’

Louisa began to reel off the names she knew whilst Mr Dubois listed them.

‘And where will I find these men if they are not in the council chamber?’

‘I know where some of them live.’ Again Louisa was as helpful as her memory would allow. ‘Mr Lenakis is a doctor. He’s probably at the hospital as so many people seem to have been wounded.’

‘Most unfortunate.’ His tone belied the words. ‘I see you are as unblemished as ever.’

Louisa smiled. ‘I’ve only recently returned from Aghios Nikolaos. Yiorgo sent me down there – in case the Germans came.’

‘Why did you come back?’

‘I needed some money.’

Mr Dubois threw his head back and laughed derisively. ‘You needed money? You could have made plenty.’

‘The town was deserted.’

‘Poor Louisa, unable to make money the only way she knows how. No doubt you will make plenty now. I’ll mention your name to some of my friends.’ Mr Dubois eyed her in the light of the torch. ‘Whilst I’m here I might as well take advantage of the situation. It could be a considerable time before I find another beautiful young girl who is so willing and accomplished.’

He snapped the torch off and in the darkness Louisa could hear his clothes falling to the floor. A smile of pleasure on her face she moved over to allow him room beside her.

The city of Heraklion simmered during the hours of darkness. Sporadic fighting erupted on street corners as the inhabitants met their invaders, other families cowered in their darkened homes, hoping they would not be noticed; yet others nursed their wounds or mourned their losses. With daylight people regained their courage and gathered in small knots before their houses, talking in hushed voices, hoping to obtain news and reassurance. Louisa had woken to find herself alone and she crept down the stairs to the taverna. After two glasses of wine she began to move around disconsolately, doing odd jobs, but unable to settle for very long at any task, wishing Yiorgo would return. It was nearly mid-day when he walked in, looking considerably older than his years due to lack of sleep and worry.

‘Have you eaten?’ asked Louisa.

‘I had something earlier. I just need to sleep.’

Louisa nodded. ‘What’s happened?’

‘The Chanion Gate gave, the others are holding at present. It depends upon our allies. If they can get through to relieve us we’ll manage.’

Louisa opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Yiorgo was already through the door and mounting the stairs. Late in the afternoon, after a plate of boiled rice, he insisted on returning to the Town Hall.

‘I have to find out the latest developments,’ he argued with Louisa. ‘It’s my duty. There’s nothing for you to worry over. I’ll walk with you to the corner shop and insist they sell us some food. You can’t continue to live on rice.’

At Yiorgo’s insistence the shop allowed them to have some stale bread, a little meat and vegetables and two eggs. There was no milk to be had, only a few spoonfuls of coffee and six oranges. Louisa sniffed at the meagre allowance, but did not refuse.

When Yiorgo returned in the evening his face was grey and haggard. ‘There’s nothing we can do. Greece can’t help us. The allies that were sent over to us have little ammunition and nothing but light arms. Maleme has fallen and the troops are trying to get back to help defend Heraklion. It’s a shambles.’ Yiorgo shook his head in despair. ‘I wish you’d stayed in Aghios Nikolaos.’

Louisa also wished she had stayed. ‘Don’t you think they’ll go down there?’

‘First they’ll want to make sure of Heraklion; then they’ll start fanning out. By the time they reach Aghios Nikolaos you and Anna could have taken a boat over to Egypt and been safe.’

‘Why don’t we try to go now? You say there’s nothing you can do here.’

Yiorgo shook his head. ‘It’s impossible to leave Heraklion. You’d never get past the troops outside the gates.’

Louisa had to admit that he was probably right. She would just have to bide her time as patiently as possible and see if Mr Dubois could help her as he had Pavlos.

For days the position was confused inside the town. The Chanion Gate, having been forced by the Germans, had been retaken and was holding. Food supplies were dwindling. The country folk dared bring nothing to the city, as they knew it would be seized and used to feed the invading army. The townsfolk were unable to leave, due to the soldiers camped just outside the walls, their rifles and machine guns at the ready. The steady bombardment of the port continued, the muffled booming sometimes giving way to the crash of masonry falling. The sky was continually black with aircraft as they harried all those who tried to relieve the island. The tolling of church bells attracted people to the streets, fearing the worst. The bells were intoning a mournful note. Surely if the Germans had withdrawn they would be ringing joyously?

Louisa joined the throng in the streets, taking a stand on the fringe of the crowd and waited. From each church a priest emerged. The people genuflected reverently, then stood in silence. Something important was obviously going to be announced. Yiorgo Pavlakis stood in front of the Town Hall, his council members behind him. Everywhere the same message was given to the people of Heraklion; ‘We have surrendered the city to the Germans.’

A stunned silence greeted the announcement, then the women began to wail, keening and beating their breasts as they did at funerals, holding their children close to them, whilst the men wiped away surreptitious tears. Before the people had time to return to their homes a new sound smote the air and the crowd moved aside to make a passage for the marching ranks. The keening and wailing gave way to a stony silence. The hatred in the air was both oppressive and volatile. Louisa watched and accepted their presence philosophically. They were men who were far from home and would be lonely. It could be a good thing after all that she had returned to Heraklion.

Anna wandered desolately through the streets of Aghios Nikolaos. Her mother had not returned as she had promised and she had used the last of her meagre funds to buy a roll for her supper two nights before. No one seemed to take any notice of her as she wandered around. She was becoming quite adept at slipping items from stalls into her pocket as she passed by and eating them when she had moved far enough away not to be challenged, but the problem that concerned her most was the rent. By the end of the week the elderly woman would be demanding her money. She dawdled along the streets, smiling at the various shopkeepers who greeted her as a familiar figure. She was not feeling hungry yet and her mind was on other things apart from food.

She entered the greengrocers and sidled over to where he kept the box for his money, holding a lepta in her hand. ‘Could I have an apple, please?’

He turned to take it from the pile and quick as a flash she had taken a handful of coins, stuffing them into her pocket. It had been easier than she had envisaged when the idea had first come to her. Once out of sight she examined her haul and was disappointed to find the small change was worth little over a drachma. She shrugged. There were other shops. She counted out some change carefully and returned to the bakers.

‘May I have a roll, please?’

Again her hand dipped into the box, her fingers curling round a note this time.

‘Oh, no you don’t!’

Her wrist was caught in a vice-like grip, forcing her fingers to drop the note and coins. Anna had been concentrating on the baker’s back and failed to see his wife standing almost directly behind her. She struggled, but the grip was firm. The baker looked at her sorrowfully. She was a pitiful little figure. ‘Let her go. She’ll not try that trick on me again.’

His wife shook her head. ‘She’s nothing but a thieving little beggar and her sort should be punished.’

‘She’s only a child.’

‘A gypsy child, well taught to steal and lie. Where are your folks?’

Anna looked at them, only half understanding what was expected of her. The woman shook her. ‘Where are your folks?’ she asked again.

‘I don’t know,’ whispered Anna. ‘Mamma went back to Heraklion to find Pappa and get some money for us.’

‘When did she go?’

‘Three weeks ago – I think.’

‘You mean you’ve been left on your own? No one looking after you at all?’ The baker and his wife exchanged glances. Taking advantage of the situation Anna struggled frantically and tried to kick the woman’s shins.

‘That’s enough of that!’ Anna felt a grab at her hair and the woman pulled her head sideways, exposing her birthmark. ‘There’s a place for girls like you.’