‘Vintage men,’ Petra added with half a smile.
‘Who’s Maverick?’ Becky asked again, pulling her seat closer to Petra’s. ‘Tell me.’
Petra nodded, the ball of kitchen roll now all scrunched up in her fist. ‘Maverick is… was my cat.’
‘Oh.’ Becky hadn’t been expecting that. ‘Did he pass away too?’
She nodded then, fresh tears arriving in her eyes. ‘Yep. 2018. March 22nd.’
‘I know how much pets can mean. One of my customers, Milo, has a canary who likes to go in the shower with him. You must have loved him ever so much,’ Becky said.
‘I did,’ Petra agreed. ‘I loved him so so much. He was as much a part of the family as anyone else.’
‘I can understand that. People do say that losing a pet is exactly the same as losing a family member.’ She gave Petra’s shoulder another heartening rub of reassurance. ‘And you lost your dad too. Was that around the same time?’
‘It was,’ Petra said, taking a big breath. ‘I… lost my dad, Maverick and my mum at the very same time. On the very same day. In the very same accident.’
The tears began to flow again and this time Becky was there to catch her. Sobbing hard, Petra fell into her arms and Becky held on tight. ‘Sshh, it’s OK, Petra. It’s going to be OK.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Petra wailed. ‘I shouldn’t be talking about it. Talking about it makes me panic again and I don’t want to panic again.’
‘It’s OK,’ Becky reassured. ‘I’m right here.’
‘But you’re going to be gone soon,’ Petra said with another cry. ‘When your holiday is finished you get to go back to your sister and your friends and I’ll be moving on to a new location meeting new people I’ll never tell any of this to because it’s too hard to share.’ Almost like she was doing it subconsciously she began to unpin her hair until it started to fall loose around her shoulders. Then she began to work her fingers around it, turning it into braids. ‘I want to pretend,’ Petra stated. ‘That’s what I spend my time doing while I’m travelling. I pretend.’
‘It’s OK,’ Becky whispered, the girl’s grief pulling at her heart. ‘We’re all guilty of doing a bit of that every now and then to protect ourselves.’
‘Who am I on my own, Becks?’ Petra asked Becky, eyes wide and startled.
‘Oh, Petra, you don’t lose who your loved ones were to you when they pass away,’ Becky assured her. ‘They might not be here in person, but I believe they are here in spirit. I mean… if it wasn’t for your dad you wouldn’t have known what kind of cars we had sitting in the garage here.’ She rubbed the girl’s shoulder. ‘His knowledge has helped you and, you said yourself, about the moon.’
‘I don’t know what to do next,’ Petra admitted, leaning on Becky for support. ‘What do I do next?’
Becky put a hand to Petra’s head and drew her closer. ‘We’re both going to take it one step at a time,’ Becky told her. ‘You just keep breathing.’
Fifty
Liakada Village
Elias shook the frying pan in his mother’s kitchen and looked pleased at the contents. He had bacon griddling to perfection on one ring, sausages under the grill, and now he was making fried eggs to sit upon the toast when that was ready. The baked beans were gently warming in a pan.
‘What are you doing in my kitchen? It is six o’clock in the morning.’
He had wondered how long it was going to be before his mother sensed there was someone working in her domain and came to investigate.
‘I am sorry, Mama. I was trying to be quiet, but I woke up Areti’s rooster and then it woke up Areti and I made her coffee. She is sitting in the cafeneon folding laundry.’
Eleni put her hands in her hair and screeched a little like a rooster herself. ‘I do not know how many times I have told that woman not to bring laundry into my cafeneon. It is not a good look, Elias.’
He turned away from the hob for a moment and observed his mother, still in her dressing gown. ‘If we do not want anyone to see, perhaps we could pull down all the blinds and get out night vision goggles for us. Give service like last night.’
‘You are mocking me. I do not like it. And I am unhappy with your behaviour at Dark Dating. You left with the English girl. That meant a change to my Circle of Couples later on. I had to try to pair Panos with someone more age-appropriate than Maria from the supermarket. The English girl was supposed to be with Spiros Boatyard.’
‘Spiros Boatyard!’ Elias exclaimed. ‘He is forty-five.’
‘He looks young for his age.’
‘You sat her with Manilos. He is even older, and his sound of the donkey was a little obvious, don’t you think?’
His mother was now just looking at him, an all-knowing expression on her face. The eggs! He had forgotten the eggs. He turned back to the hob, fish slice in hand, delicately trying to lift them off the bottom of the pan without disturbing the yokes.
‘I see what is going on,’ Eleni told him.
‘Yes,’ Elias agreed. ‘If you keep talking to me and do not go to see Areti she will be arranging to bring over her washing machines.’
‘You and the English girl. This is not the first time you have met. They ask about you. The one and the not the one.’ Eleni sniffed as if she was using her nose to find out secrets.
‘The English girl has a name,’ Elias said.
‘And you know it,’ Eleni continued. ‘You have known it for a while. That is why you are back here.’
‘No, Mama,’ Elias insisted. ‘I am here for work.’
‘What is going on at Villa Selino? I know someone has had my keys. I am guessing that is you,’ Eleni continued.
Yes, Elias had felt bad about taking them without asking. It had been a mad few hours of deliberating with himself about the legality of it all, but he had made the right choice. And he was now more confident of that than ever. The keys had gone straight back and he was doing what he told Becky he was doing. The right thing. No more underhand or under the carpet, everything strictly by the book.
‘The owners of Villa Selino are getting a divorce,’ he admitted. ‘But you cannot tell anyone about that. And I mean anyone. Not even Areti.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Especially not Areti.’
‘Are they selling the villa? Will they not want me to clean? Is the English girl a relative?’
‘I cannot tell you any more than that,’ Elias said to her, lifting the pan from the ring, turning the gas off then setting it down again. ‘Except the English girl… she is called Becky.’
‘What sort of a name is “Becky”? It is not good. Not like “Maria” or “Pelagia” or—’
‘Hestia?’ Elias offered.
‘No,’ Eleni said quickly. ‘That is not a good name. You know it means “by the fire”. A warning we should have taken notice of before it was too late.’
‘Mama,’ Elias began. ‘I do not want my life to be about what Hestia did anymore.’ He took a breath. ‘It has been too long.’