The Glass Madonna

Chapter 4: Journey to Crete

When they stepped off the plane at Athens International Airport, the hot air hit them like a sudden wall. Bright sun bouncing off the white-cemented aerodrome and the deep sapphire blue of the sky was certainly an amazing contrast to the grey-green, rain-sodden vista of England that they had left behind.

Emily sniffed the air and it made her heart catch. The spicy, scented greeting of the pines and eucalyptus trees floated on the warm spring air and took her straight back many years ago when they had all come here with Mum. Even here, Anne would be a memory to haunt her. But things would be different now. The sunshine lifted up her spirits and gave her a sense of extreme happiness.

'That's the most gorgeous smell!' she said. 'I remember it from when I was little.'

'I remember it from when my dad brought me here at thirteen,' Martin said, 'even in England, on the rare occasions when we have a sunny day, that resin scent always reminds me of Greece.' He put his arm round Emily and he too felt that sense of joy which warmth and sunshine bring. He grinned like a schoolboy on holiday. Even David, who maintained a grumpy, 'wish I was somewhere else' attitude most of the time, began to look more eager and cheerful.

'I wish I could take my top off, it's boiling,' said Emily fretfully for the weather had been so cold when leaving home that she had put on a thick, long-sleeved sweater.

'If you didn't have a brain cell the size of a pea you'd have put on a T-shirt underneath like me,' remarked her brother, pulling off his own sweater and immediately looking and feeling cooler. 'Why not walk about in your bra and give the Greeks a shock!'

'Oh, thanks for that! You're so helpful!'

Brother and sister bickered their way through Passport Control, queues and the pushing and grumbling and cries of irritable small children. At last, with their cases retrieved from the carousel, they stepped out into the fresher air outside. Waiting for them patiently at the entrance was a tall, corpulent, but still handsome man with a younger man beside him. He stepped forward with a smile. Martin dropped his hand luggage and they shook hands heartily.

'Great to see you Savvas! God, it seems years!'

'Great to see you! Kalosorisate. Welcome to Greece.' Savvas Souliotakis turned towards the younger people, shook hands with David and smiled at Emily who lowered her eyes and bent her head in shyness.

'My son, Petros,' Souliotakis said, turning to the younger man beside him who stepped forward and repeated the hand-shaking ritual. Petros put his hand out to Emily but she pretended not to see it and he stared at her in surprise for a moment before turning to her brother who greeted him a little more amiably.

Martin also shook hands with the younger man. It was always a shock to realise that young people do grow up and the lad of ten he had met a long time ago was now a handsome young man of twenty. Petros Souliotakis had spent his teenage years living in Paris and America with various relations and had never met Emily and David before. Martin was curious to know how they would get on. He felt his own son was outsmarted by this grave, handsome Greek boy with his worldly, cosmopolitan air. David had travelled and seen the world too but like most young Englishmen refused to grow up and often spoke and acted like a teenager. His clothes looked scruffy, still adopting the torn and grungy appearance so dear to the affluent youth of Britain. They looked as if they had come from a charity shop which indeed many of them had. David in his turn looked over the smart, carefully laundered young Greek with his expensive Levis and his Rolex watch with some distaste, wondering if such a po-faced bloke knew how to have a good time.

'Trying to park in Athens is hopeless these days or I'd have brought my own car,' Savvas grumbled as he waved frantically at a cab which careered towards them across the traffic as if there wasn't another car around.

'Greek traffic is always a problem, Martin laughed. 'Seems nothing has changed since I was last here.'

'Not a lot.'

'I thought you were still in the States, Petros,' Martin said as the cab drew up at the kerb and they began to pile their luggage into the boot.

'I decided that I wanted to finish my studies at the Panepistimio in Athens,' Petros replied. He had a slight transatlantic accent when he spoke. 'In the end we Greeks always come back, like homing pigeons! Dad said you were coming to Crete and I wanted meet you again – and your family, of course. I was just a kid when we met before but I've heard a lot about you since.'

Martin laughed. 'Good things, I hope!'

'Of course! Your work sounds fascinating.'

The young man helped Emily into the back of the taxi and climbed in beside her along with Martin and David. Savvas took the front seat along with the driver. They crawled through the rush hour traffic until they arrived at a hotel near Syntagma Square. It wasn't the world's most comfortable, Savvas explained, but it would do. The plan was to spend a day or two sightseeing in Athens with Savvas and his son, then travel on to their home in Crete. Rather than fly over, they all decided it would be much more pleasant to take the ferry from Piraeus to Heraklion.

The Rethimnon chugged quietly through the calm blue waters. The boat, fitted with stabilisers, hardly rolled at all; it felt just as if you were walking on dry land.

'I hope you and your brother enjoy your stay, ' said Savvas Souliotakis, smiling at Emily. 'I want you to have a great holiday here. Feel at home, with us.'

Emily hardly dared to look at him, let alone answer, seized as always with a crippling sense of fear and shyness in front of strangers. However when Mr Souliotakis had his eyes elsewhere, she looked at him keenly. He was a big tall man, middle-aged, with a generous paunch. His brown eyes were serious, soft and kindly. He gesticulated with his hands a good deal and spoke in deep, pleasant tones. Voices were important to Emily. She felt that feet, hands, and voices said a lot about people. He was gentle when he addressed her and she began to feel a little more comfortable. Peter was also tall but a good deal slimmer, more wiry and energetic with the same soft, serious expression in his brown eyes. But he was so handsome that it made her feel nervous and ill at ease and all the young man's efforts to draw her out met with failure.

Emily stood and watched the receding shoreline with a thoughtful, almost entranced look on her face. The wind blew her hair away from her face and brought colour to her pale cheeks. Petros was struck, as most people were, by the girl's delicate beauty. She was exquisite, almost unreal with flawless skin and a mass of fine, curly blonde hair. However, he found his gentle efforts to draw Emily into conversation met with failure. She appeared to listen but neither looked him in the eye nor made any response and in the end he gave up and moved towards David who was polite and friendly enough in that casual British manner.

'Is your sister afraid of us?' he asked wistfully, looking over at Emily who was leaning on the rail, staring out to sea.

'Don't take any notice of her,' said David, pulling the tab from a can of lager, 'she's not unfriendly, just really shy. She'll come round.'

'I think she's very beautiful,' said Petros, still watching her. 'Frankly, she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. She's like the Panayia, like the Madonna. She's somehow ...innocent, untouched.'

David looked at him in surprise and then at his sister. He understood the sound in the other man's voice. It was frankly admiring, interested as a young man is in a girl he fancies. Someone fancied his odd little sister? And yet when he looked at her again, he had to admit she was rather pretty now, not the skinny kid he had teased for so many years. It was quite a revelation and suddenly he felt oddly protective. He wasn't sure he wanted this Greek eyeing her up and fancying her.

'She's not like other girls,' he said sharply, 'she's not interested in blokes. I mean ...I don't mean she's ...you know ...she just isn't interested yet. It's ...well, as if a part of her hasn't really grown up.'

Petros looked at him and smiled. 'Yes, she's still very young, I guess. How old is she?'

'She's nearly eighteen – will be in June.'

Petros looked puzzled by this answer and stared again at Emily. 'I thought she was much, much younger than that; her expression is young. She really is very lovely. Could be a model.'

'I suppose so; she's a bit skinny. I suppose they like them like that these days. Never thought of it. She'd die rather than do anything like that though, mate. You don't know her.'

'She'll soon fill out with some good Greek food in her. And her skin won't look so white after a few weeks here, though I rather like the fact that she looks so pale and delicate ...like alabaster.'

'We're all pale this year. Summer's been non-existent at home. It's great to be here,' said David. He changed the subject. Emily was boring and there were better things to think about. 'Are there any good beaches where we're staying? Where are we staying, by the way?'

'The plan is to go and stay with the old yiayia. Frosso – that's my grandmother – has a place up in the hills. It's walking distance to a tiny village called Rhodaki and then another walk down brings you to the little harbour town of Merounda. The beaches are large, splendid and not too crowded. You'll love it there.'

'To be honest, I prefer crowded beaches with lots of pretty girls.'

'Oh.' Petros looked disappointed. 'Well, you can always find those ...pretty girls, I mean. But don't you think a girl like Emily will prefer secluded places?'

I don't give a toss, thought David, annoyed that Emily, Emily, Emily always came first, ruling everyone and everything with her peculiarities and her total unawareness of what a drag she could be. 'Maybe she would. So let her find them,' he said ungraciously.

'I'll be happy to show her,' said Petros

Yeah, I bet. Aloud, David said, 'She won't go with you. She's too shy.' His tone was suspicious. Petros laughed and smiled again, a frank, pleasant smile that mellowed David's feelings towards him a little.

'I understand you feel protective, eh? Ah – I would take care of Emily like my sister. We're not like ...' he meant to say, 'you foreigners', but realised it would be rude and said no more but David understood and relaxed. He felt he had to protect Emily; she wasn't the least bit streetwise. Either she shunned people or else was far too trusting of those she liked. But Petros had an open, frank look about him and seemed an okay kind of guy.

If Emily was like any other girl, he wouldn't give a toss about what she and Petros might get up to; after all, she was an adult, knew the facts of life, she wasn't stupid. He had plans of his own and it would get her out of his hair if Petros fancied her. He knew Dad expected him to keep some sort of an eye on her. However, if Petros was willing to act the protective brother role as well, then he might be useful in taking Emily off his hands now and then. On the other hand it wasn't much fun going to nightspots without a companion, someone who knew the ropes, and there was no way Emily was going to go to the kind of places he enjoyed. She loathed loud music, crowds of sweating bodies and the swift-changing coloured lights made her feel physically sick. He sighed and began to wonder if it had been such a good idea to come after all. He'd have enjoyed that trip to Snowdon with Adam. Well, if he got fed up, he'd just go back home. Emily would have to stay with these people, like it or not. Dad was going to be busy at his dig and she'd have to lump it.

Emily stood against the rail and gazed out, entranced. The sun was now setting. Before her lay an expanse of slowly darkening sea arched over by a sky with the brilliant, fiery colours of the red sun washing through it. She had just come from the other side of the boat where the full moon had already risen. It was night on one side of the boat and daylight on the other.

Petros joined her again and leant over the rails beside her but said nothing, just turned his gaze out towards the view. She stilled the sudden clamour his presence raised in her heart and also looked away. Flocks of seagulls floated lazily in the wake of the boat in the last rays of the sinking sun, where the sea was now tinted a pale-pink rose. On the night side of the boat the water was a deep indigo blue. They saw another ferry, full of twinkling lights, further out to sea and fast fading into the distance the faint grey shapes of the mainland. It was calm and lonely and mysterious. Emily shivered a little in the night breeze. Petros took off his jacket and silently put it around her shoulders.

Emily looked up at him, meeting his eyes for a brief moment. The young man was smiling at her, his eyes gentle and tender. Her hands trembled as she pulled the jacket around her. She had no idea why she trembled but was grateful for his thoughtful gesture and said a soft 'Thank you'.

A wrinkled little man leant on the railings and threw bread to the gulls that clamoured noisily in the wake.

'The gulls follow the boat for miles before returning to their own shore,' said Petros. 'They always have plenty of bits to pick up from all the rubbish pouring out of the sluice.'

He addressed the remark to the air but Emily heard him and was interested. He didn't seem to expect a reply.

'We shall see the shores of Crete in the morning,' Petros went on, 'and I know you'll love my home, my island. Hard to believe it is an island, it's such a large one. It's very close to Egypt. Sometimes in the winter I go over to see my auntie who lives in Alexandria. That's a beautiful place too.'

Emily listened and began to relax more and more in his company. Now the sun had virtually disappeared, a deep red sliver on the horizon.

'It looks like a slice of watermelon,' said Petros with a laugh.

He seemed happy to make these little comments and wasn't the least bit put out by her lack of response. It was as if he knew and perhaps understood her silent agreement, as if he could read her mind. It was so lovely to be with someone she felt understood her without the struggle to frame words and express what to her was inexpressible and to others sounded foolish. She felt peaceful with him now, no longer afraid or frightened. Her heart settled itself back to its normal rhythm.

She looked up at him and said, 'I'll go in now.'

Petros nodded and took her arm gently. They weaved their way amongst the people sitting eating their little picnics or lying about on the deck and entered the ship's salon. Emily returned the jacket with a smile of thanks.

David observed this bit of by-play and frowned. He still felt peculiarly possessive of his sister and was rather surprised at himself. Why should he worry? His father didn't seem bothered about it and he had observed it all too. Though by the frown on his face, he didn't seem too sure either.