Forty-Five
However strange Becky had thought Dark Dating sounded, nothing she had envisaged conjured up this. She was sat in a black room, sniffing her date’s aroma of figs and fish guts and making the sound of a piglet while her date pretended to be… well, she hadn’t quite worked out if he was a donkey or a camel. How long did they have to continue making this sound for? And what exactly was it supposed to tell you about a person?
Becky gave one more snort and decided to give up. She sat back in her seat and willed it all to be over. It didn’t seem like her date was going to give up braying or, whatever that sound was, any time soon and she already knew she wouldn’t be having any dates with anyone who could make that kind of noise, for fun or whatever else…
Except then the growling stopped, abruptly and Becky sat forward wondering what had happened? The rest of the room was still involved in the farmyard activity. Had he choked himself on his saliva? Had a heart attack? Then there was a whisper.
‘Captain Rebecca.’
‘Elias?’ God, had it been Elias making the camel noises? She might look at him in a different light now. It wasn’t the most attractive attribute…
‘I have come to rescue you. The only man in the village who makes a donkey noise like that is Manilos when he is herding his into their pen.’
It hadn’t been Elias making that row. This was good. Except…
‘What have you done with him?’
‘Don’t worry,’ Elias replied. ‘He is going to be enjoying the company of someone whose favourite animal is a dragon… or a wolf… I am not quite sure.’
She laughed, feeling a little more comfortable in this situation all of a sudden. Why did being with him do that to her? She shifted in her seat a little.
‘My mother has come up with some out-there ideas before… dinners dressed in nightwear, bring your yiayia to cake and coffee and leave with someone’s else’s, but…’
‘Your mother,’ Becky breathed, another laugh escaping. ‘Eleni is your mother.’
‘Yes,’ Elias answered. ‘Sorry, you did not realise? She has not said anything to you?’
‘No, I… we… that is, Petra mentioned you and Eleni gave us the impression…’ This was not going to sound right whichever way she put it. ‘Or rather, we got the impression she was your… lover.’
‘I feel sick,’ Elias announced. ‘Really sick. I might have to make the noise of a donkey.’ He began to cough and Becky really really wanted to see the expression on his face.
‘Are you OK?’ she whispered, leaning a little nearer the table. She could reach out. How big were these tables? Could she connect their hands?
‘No,’ Elias answered. ‘I need another drink.’ He cleared his throat before carrying on. ‘You really thought that we were… I cannot even say the word.’
‘Well,’ Becky said, ‘I still don’t know much about you.’
There was a silence between them and then the animal noises all stopped as Eleni spoke again.
‘Silence! Remember the animal noise that your date made. For the next round the men will be moving tables.’
‘Oh no,’ Becky said aloud. She didn’t want that. She was quite happy sitting here with Elias sharing this crazy mad experience together, if he was still going to be talking to her after what she had said about Eleni.
‘Becky,’ Elias whispered. His fingers found hers across the table and she held on. ‘I am not going to move from this table.’
‘OK,’ she answered.
‘And, believe me when I say this, you know more about me than anyone in this village… even my mother.’
*
Elias put a fork full of his mother’s stifado into his mouth and mused a little as the flavours coated his taste buds. They still could not see but finally they were allowed to talk. So far, through noises alone, he had learned that Becky was a morning person rather than a night owl – she had been very creative with hooting followed by the noise of a gunshot – and that her favourite music was a little bit Katy Perry, mixed with Sia and sometimes Bon Jovi. He hoped he had managed to get across that he was a morning person too and that he liked all kinds of music – it wasn’t often he had to attempt to make sounds of drums, electric guitar and saxophone…
‘Cinnamon,’ Becky told him. ‘A little too much. There was less cinnamon in the one I ate last time we were here.’
‘Do not tell my mother that. This is her grand recipe. The one she is well-known for all over the north of Corfu.’
‘There’s still something missing from it though,’ Becky continued. ‘I thought that last time, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I still can’t.’
‘You sound disappointed about that.’
‘I am,’ Becky told him. ‘I told you on the boat. It’s what I do. Find the perfect food combinations, the correct balance.’
‘And I told you that that is a real skill.’
‘I don’t know anymore,’ she answered with a sigh.
Elias could imagine her expression. Her eyes would be lowered, her shoulders a little hunched, her hair a little over her face. He wished they could end this sideshow of Dark Dating and just spend the rest of the evening talking face to face, or rather, eye to eye. ‘Why do you not know anymore? What has changed?’
‘Because it doesn’t matter, does it? If people get the perfect sandwich. It doesn’t exactly change the world, does it? It’s lunch. It’s not… saving the rainforests or… building schools in deprived countries or…’
‘Helping men screw over their wives in divorce cases.’ He really wanted to see her expression now. Now he had admitted that was exactly what he had been doing. Yes, it had been about getting the best for his clients, but it had also been about trying to punish Hestia in the only way he could think of. It sounded so juvenile. And that was what his life had come to. Rage and childishness.
‘People, they’ve always needed me,’ Becky continued.
It sounded like she was eating again. Elias took another mouthful of his meal as he listened.
‘My mum and dad, they always turned to me if they needed advice on some modern-day technicality they didn’t understand, like online shopping or the Sky remote. Then, when Dad got sick, I naturally filled that role of visiting the nursing home the most and then Megan, with starting the business…’
‘It sounds to me that what you do is every bit as important as saving the rainforests to the people that care about you.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Becky answered with a sigh. ‘I don’t want to be needed.’
‘You don’t?’
‘No.’ She sighed again, this time far more heavily. ‘I want to be wanted. And although Megan needs me, she doesn’t want me. And… there’s no one else left.’
‘Becky…’ Elias began. He reached out to find her hand but connected with something else, something hard. Whatever it was fell to the table.
‘It’s OK. It’s been kind of nice being here in Greece and not being needed. Apart from with Petra, because she really does need someone and I haven’t quite got to the bottom of why yet, but, in between eating meat together and watching romantic comedy DVDs, I really think she’s starting to open up a little to me.’