13
The beginnings
Athens, April 1972
Suddenly, she was standing right in front of him, holding a baby in her arms. He did not recognise her for a minute or so: her hair, now much longer, was falling around her face in golden-hued strands. Still stunned, he gave her a hesitant peck on the cheek, but Nefeli stood on her tiptoes and hugged him round the neck with one arm, holding the baby on the other, and gave him a light kiss on the lips.
He tried to peer at his daughter, but he could hardly make out her face.
‘This baby is swaddled like a mummy!’ he exclaimed. ‘I cannot even see her face. Is she alive?’
‘Mrs Marika taught me how to swaddle’, she said proudly. ‘It keeps babies snug.’
‘Oh. Was she much trouble during the flight?’
‘I swaddled her right at the beginning of our trip, so
