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Authors: Bernard Ashley
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Hood
and
The Man Who Ran to Sparta
.
Sofia was keen to go on with the series. In Kefalonia, sheâd never pulled a face at anything because it was new. Makis knew boys whose mothers wouldnât listen to new singers on the radio or buy a modern style of dress. They were the âoldâ village â as much part of it as the ancient stone houses. But Sofia Magriotis would always try new things â just coming to England to make a new start showed the kind of person she was. So for the past couple of weeks sheâd been doing her homework like a student who wanted to get top marks. And now, how about that second story book â
The Man Who Ran to Sparta
? Wouldnât she love a good Greek story?
And the same week, although Makis hadnât played brilliantly in the matches so far, he was picked to play in the semi-final of the Fred Barrowman Trophy. With Pearson back at school, Denny Clarke was chosen as reserve to travel, giving him another excuse to shout abuse.
âRotten Greeks! All over Camden Town like a plague of rats! Magriotis gets to be teacherâs pet just because his house fell down. Well, so did mine, in the war â but my mum didnât push herself on other people.â After the team sheet had gone up, Clarke made so much fuss in the corridor that Mr Davies came out of the staffroom and sent him to stand in the hall during playtime â which gave Makis a little lift. And for the first time, seeing his name on the sheet didnât make him feel all mixed up. He might not go home afterwards to ten green bottles on the table, but he was pretty sure he wasnât going to find his mother crying in her bedroom.
It wasnât often that several sides of his life looked up at the same time. Back in Kefalonia, he might have had a good day in school, and in the afternoon he might have dived for an octopus among the rocks for his mother to fry â but then heâd drop a fish-cleaning knife overboard and heâd be scolded. But this week in Camden Town, even Mr Laliotis was giving him a boost.
That night, with his violin case still tucked under his arm, he came to invite Makis upstairs for a rehearsal of the Kefalonia song. And after a good session, with Makisâs fingers surer and surer on the mandolin, he quietly dropped a big surprise.
âYou know, I think you could play this with me at the Acropolis.â
What?
Makis could only sit there and stroke the small chip on the Gibson.
âI mean it. Our two voices, with mandolin and balalaika â theyâll be a special item at the concert. This old man, living here a long timeâ â he lifted his balalaika to identify himself, the way musicians do â âplaying alongside the newcomer from a tragic islandâ¦â
Hearing this, Makis wondered if he should lift his mandolin. He didnât, because Kefalonia might be tragic now but it hadnât always been, and one day it wouldnât be again. But what an honour! To perform a duet with a man whose BBC violin was heard all over the world! To play his fatherâs mandolin with such a man! How proud Spiros Magriotis would have been. His pride would have lifted those Argostoli stones from his trapped body and freed himâ¦
With tears in his eyes Makis said, âIâll do it, if you think I can.â
âOh, I think you can. Certainly. Just keep those fingers supple, exercise them, protect them â musicians have a duty to their hands â and at the Acropolis weâre going to make a few men cry.â
Like me,
Makis thought â but they would be happy tears, because he was so proud for his father.
Chapter Eleven
The semi-final against Griffin Road that Thursday was on the same pitch at Chase Fields. Makis thought Griffin Road must have played against a few easy teams in the Cup so far, because they werenât all that good. And Imeson Street might be playing in dyed vests, but the Griffin Road team turned out in
and
The Man Who Ran to Sparta
.
Sofia was keen to go on with the series. In Kefalonia, sheâd never pulled a face at anything because it was new. Makis knew boys whose mothers wouldnât listen to new singers on the radio or buy a modern style of dress. They were the âoldâ village â as much part of it as the ancient stone houses. But Sofia Magriotis would always try new things â just coming to England to make a new start showed the kind of person she was. So for the past couple of weeks sheâd been doing her homework like a student who wanted to get top marks. And now, how about that second story book â
The Man Who Ran to Sparta
? Wouldnât she love a good Greek story?
And the same week, although Makis hadnât played brilliantly in the matches so far, he was picked to play in the semi-final of the Fred Barrowman Trophy. With Pearson back at school, Denny Clarke was chosen as reserve to travel, giving him another excuse to shout abuse.
âRotten Greeks! All over Camden Town like a plague of rats! Magriotis gets to be teacherâs pet just because his house fell down. Well, so did mine, in the war â but my mum didnât push herself on other people.â After the team sheet had gone up, Clarke made so much fuss in the corridor that Mr Davies came out of the staffroom and sent him to stand in the hall during playtime â which gave Makis a little lift. And for the first time, seeing his name on the sheet didnât make him feel all mixed up. He might not go home afterwards to ten green bottles on the table, but he was pretty sure he wasnât going to find his mother crying in her bedroom.
It wasnât often that several sides of his life looked up at the same time. Back in Kefalonia, he might have had a good day in school, and in the afternoon he might have dived for an octopus among the rocks for his mother to fry â but then heâd drop a fish-cleaning knife overboard and heâd be scolded. But this week in Camden Town, even Mr Laliotis was giving him a boost.
That night, with his violin case still tucked under his arm, he came to invite Makis upstairs for a rehearsal of the Kefalonia song. And after a good session, with Makisâs fingers surer and surer on the mandolin, he quietly dropped a big surprise.
âYou know, I think you could play this with me at the Acropolis.â
What?
Makis could only sit there and stroke the small chip on the Gibson.
âI mean it. Our two voices, with mandolin and balalaika â theyâll be a special item at the concert. This old man, living here a long timeâ â he lifted his balalaika to identify himself, the way musicians do â âplaying alongside the newcomer from a tragic islandâ¦â
Hearing this, Makis wondered if he should lift his mandolin. He didnât, because Kefalonia might be tragic now but it hadnât always been, and one day it wouldnât be again. But what an honour! To perform a duet with a man whose BBC violin was heard all over the world! To play his fatherâs mandolin with such a man! How proud Spiros Magriotis would have been. His pride would have lifted those Argostoli stones from his trapped body and freed himâ¦
With tears in his eyes Makis said, âIâll do it, if you think I can.â
âOh, I think you can. Certainly. Just keep those fingers supple, exercise them, protect them â musicians have a duty to their hands â and at the Acropolis weâre going to make a few men cry.â
Like me,
Makis thought â but they would be happy tears, because he was so proud for his father.
Chapter Eleven
The semi-final against Griffin Road that Thursday was on the same pitch at Chase Fields. Makis thought Griffin Road must have played against a few easy teams in the Cup so far, because they werenât all that good. And Imeson Street might be playing in dyed vests, but the Griffin Road team turned out in
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