51
Day could not remember having such a sound sleep as he did that afternoon. Three solid hours had passed before he opened his eyes. He could hear a shower, meaning Helen was up and about, and then he heard her leave the bathroom. He lay on the bed a little longer, then got up and stood at the window. Late afternoon, maybe early evening. He didn’t need to check the time. He made his own way to the shower, and afterwards put on his last remaining clean shirt. It was a particularly English-looking one, a crisp blue stripe on a white background, and yet very un-Greek. He gave a small smile at his reflection, not knowing quite why he felt rather insecure.
In the main room, Helen was at the table looking through papers. Day suddenly knew he was starving, and said so.
“I don’t remember eatin
