A Song Amongst the Orange Trees (The Greek Village Collection Book 13) Read Free Page B

that soup down his throat. I appreciate all you are doing. Keep me informed.' And the line clicks to a purr.

The Hotel
     
    The beach seems to stretch endlessly in one direction and curves around the bay towards Saros the other way. The water is so blue, so alive, that if he wasn't standing there in person, he would think someone had tinted the whole scene. The sand is almost white and the occasional grain reflects the sun like a mirror, shimmering in the heat. There is a small beach bar covered with crispy brown palm leaves and a man in its shade is wiping glasses, slowly, as if there is never a need to rush. The pace of life in the half hour since they arrived has kicked back to a lazy amble. It seems a natural pace for Jules. As for Sakis, well he is still struggling with the virus. He has no energy at all.
    'You want a drink?' Jules asks as Sakis lowers himself onto a sunbed and looks around. There is a pink-skinned family who has pulled four sunbeds together further along, and there is a very brown-backed sunbather who has not opened the square umbrella over his lounger nearer the bar. After the mayhem of Kharkiv, which was the last time Sakis was out in public, the place feels deserted.
    'Yeah, something cool, with ice.' Sakis rubs his throat.
    Jules returns with two tall drinks.
    'Bartender told me that they are on him. He recognised you.'
    Sakis looks over and the bartender raises the glass he is wiping in salute.
    'Interesting bloke,' Jules continues. 'Quit a steady job in a bakery and took up this bar job to give himself time.'
    'Time for what?' Sakis leans back. The heat of the sun kissing him all over, massaging his throat, works through the knots in his aching limbs.
    'He's taken up the clarinet. He said something about each village tries to put on the best panigyri . What's a panigyri ?'
    'Like a party, a festival. Each village has a saint and each year, they celebrate the saint’s day with music and lots of food. My yiayia's ,' Jules frowns, 'grandmother's village has always been in competition to put on a better panigyri than Saros town, even though it is so much smaller.' Sakis hasn't thought about this for years. The village usually only conjures images of his baba. His big, larger than life baba. The man who eclipsed him no matter what he did. This memory is suggesting the village has also had a different influence. He always thought his musical inspiration had come from Pireaus.
    'Ah, so an influence, then?' Jules asks.
    'Never thought of it.' Sakis closes his eyes. 'My baba took me out of the village when it was time for me to start school. Said I needed a man’s upbringing. Whatever that means. It was probably a joke and didn't mean anything, knowing him.'
    'So you went to school in Pireaus. Was the school musical?'
    'Baba stuck around for a few years but when I was ten, he decided I was old enough to cope by myself. He would go off for two and three months at a time with work. Said if I wanted anything, I should go to his best friend’s wife. They lived in the same block. She liked to cook. I didn't complain. But on the weekends, I was in heaven. “Ah, we can't leave the little doll here by himself. We will take him,” Antonis would say. “He's a child. He is too young,” Antigone would answer. “Take him for the music,” Roula would say and it was decided because Antigone could not be bothered to argue.'
    Sakis pauses to recreate the scene in his head and take a sip of his drink. It is a while since he has thought of all this in detail.
    'So they would be all dressed up, him in pointed shoes, slicked hair, his jacket only over one shoulder, and she would be in her tight red dress with its lace-trimmed skirt and they would swagger their way through the back streets, turning heads. When we reached the tiny bar, they walked like royalty to their table.' The images reappear in his mind so easily. The bars were little more than narrow rooms that opened onto the street with cobbled floors and