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Authors: Samantha Tonge
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your visit will do her good,’ she murmured. Without waiting for an answer, Sophia opened the door and popped her head around to mumble something in Greek. I heard my name then the reply of a croaky female voice. Sophia straightened up and gave me a nod. I went in on my own and heard Niko’s mum close the door before going back downstairs.
What a lovely room, with the simple whitewashed walls, quilted bedcover and colourful ceramic bowls. And what was that distinct grape-like smell? Of course, Grandma’s signature perfume, made from irises, her namesake. Nostalgia wafted over me as I breathed in the floral aroma. Once again, I marvelled how some things never changed. Although, through the dim lamplight… I could avoid it no longer… I focussed on the wizened body of an elderly woman I hardly recognised. My throat ached. Gone were the full cheeks. Yet she still had those fiery cinnamon eyes that would glint when Niko and I got into trouble – and glow when I made her fresh scones or told a joke.
An arm that looked thin, despite the billowing blue nightie, stretched out. I hurried forward to grip her hand, blinking hard, forcing my mouth to upturn.
‘Pippa! My little peach! You came!’ Her eyes lit up. Eventually she let go and patted the bed as she pushed herself more upright. I sat down on the mosaic patterned red and brown bed quilt and put the basket on my lap. She gave a gap-toothed smile. ‘You bring gifts?’
I parted the tea-towel and lifted out one of the scones. She took it and inhaled. ‘Mmm, chocolate and…’
‘Fresh apricots,’ I said.
She handed it back. ‘Tomorrow I shall breakfast like a king.
Efharisto
, dear Pippa. Now, hug old Grandma. Speak of your young man. Last winter I was too ill to meet him.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘But I spotted on him out of my window, one day. He is like a very tall, very blonde Cary Grant – the movie star of my day…’
‘Spying on young men? Grandma! You shock me!’
She smiled and for one nanosecond looked about sixteen. I willed my chin not to wobble at the wispiness of her hair and those hollow cheeks.
‘… and so, that’s how I met Henrik,’ I said, about twenty minutes later, my fingers still holding hers tight.
Those cinnamon eyes studied me. ‘He makes you happy, child?’
‘Yes,’ I said brightly. ‘But, um, enough about me – I hear there is to be a wedding. Isn’t Leila lovely?’
Grandma’s face broke into another smile, reminiscent of the dancing grey-haired woman who’d taught me how to make honey soaked doughnuts, the last summer I visited Taxos. ‘Leila’s family comes from my childhood village. Her grandmother and I were school friends. It is a perfect match. Their children will be much loved on both sides. Their union, it…’ Her voice quietened. ‘Without it, I don’t know how I would have kept going, this year. So much has gone wrong… my health… poor business… Here in Taxos – in Greece. We see hard times. A wedding …’ She tried to suppress a yawn. ‘The joining of two families… is like a rainbow casting beauty across a stormy sky.’
I nodded. ‘And… how are you doing?’
‘Better than I expected, one year on – although I feel like such a burden to the family.’
‘Pah – nonsense! They love you to bits and wouldn’t begrudge a minute looking after you…’
She fingered the quilt cover. ‘It’s not just that – not all healthcare is free since things got bad in Greece. The taverna has money problems enough without Georgios and Sophia having to find extra to pay my bills. But enough about me,’ she said, eyelids heavy now. ‘You… you and Niko still get on well? Has time changed your friendship?’
‘You are, um tired now,’ I mumbled. ‘I’ll come back again to talk – and perhaps bake more scones.’
‘Pippa? You are hiding something, no?’
‘Grandma!’ I said and forced a grin. ‘You don’t change, seeing intrigue where there is none!’
A small chuckle escaped
What a lovely room, with the simple whitewashed walls, quilted bedcover and colourful ceramic bowls. And what was that distinct grape-like smell? Of course, Grandma’s signature perfume, made from irises, her namesake. Nostalgia wafted over me as I breathed in the floral aroma. Once again, I marvelled how some things never changed. Although, through the dim lamplight… I could avoid it no longer… I focussed on the wizened body of an elderly woman I hardly recognised. My throat ached. Gone were the full cheeks. Yet she still had those fiery cinnamon eyes that would glint when Niko and I got into trouble – and glow when I made her fresh scones or told a joke.
An arm that looked thin, despite the billowing blue nightie, stretched out. I hurried forward to grip her hand, blinking hard, forcing my mouth to upturn.
‘Pippa! My little peach! You came!’ Her eyes lit up. Eventually she let go and patted the bed as she pushed herself more upright. I sat down on the mosaic patterned red and brown bed quilt and put the basket on my lap. She gave a gap-toothed smile. ‘You bring gifts?’
I parted the tea-towel and lifted out one of the scones. She took it and inhaled. ‘Mmm, chocolate and…’
‘Fresh apricots,’ I said.
She handed it back. ‘Tomorrow I shall breakfast like a king.
Efharisto
, dear Pippa. Now, hug old Grandma. Speak of your young man. Last winter I was too ill to meet him.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘But I spotted on him out of my window, one day. He is like a very tall, very blonde Cary Grant – the movie star of my day…’
‘Spying on young men? Grandma! You shock me!’
She smiled and for one nanosecond looked about sixteen. I willed my chin not to wobble at the wispiness of her hair and those hollow cheeks.
‘… and so, that’s how I met Henrik,’ I said, about twenty minutes later, my fingers still holding hers tight.
Those cinnamon eyes studied me. ‘He makes you happy, child?’
‘Yes,’ I said brightly. ‘But, um, enough about me – I hear there is to be a wedding. Isn’t Leila lovely?’
Grandma’s face broke into another smile, reminiscent of the dancing grey-haired woman who’d taught me how to make honey soaked doughnuts, the last summer I visited Taxos. ‘Leila’s family comes from my childhood village. Her grandmother and I were school friends. It is a perfect match. Their children will be much loved on both sides. Their union, it…’ Her voice quietened. ‘Without it, I don’t know how I would have kept going, this year. So much has gone wrong… my health… poor business… Here in Taxos – in Greece. We see hard times. A wedding …’ She tried to suppress a yawn. ‘The joining of two families… is like a rainbow casting beauty across a stormy sky.’
I nodded. ‘And… how are you doing?’
‘Better than I expected, one year on – although I feel like such a burden to the family.’
‘Pah – nonsense! They love you to bits and wouldn’t begrudge a minute looking after you…’
She fingered the quilt cover. ‘It’s not just that – not all healthcare is free since things got bad in Greece. The taverna has money problems enough without Georgios and Sophia having to find extra to pay my bills. But enough about me,’ she said, eyelids heavy now. ‘You… you and Niko still get on well? Has time changed your friendship?’
‘You are, um tired now,’ I mumbled. ‘I’ll come back again to talk – and perhaps bake more scones.’
‘Pippa? You are hiding something, no?’
‘Grandma!’ I said and forced a grin. ‘You don’t change, seeing intrigue where there is none!’
A small chuckle escaped
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