Read Online The English Lesson (The Greek Village Collection Book 11) by Sara Alexi - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sara Alexi
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behaving. She is trying to leap a gap of inequality that is not even completely closed in England—despite what they say. Look at the government in the UK, so biased toward men. All of them come through the same schooling and throughout the UK women still only get paid fifty-eight pence for every pound that men get.
Juliet recognises her thinking has fallen into well-worn grooves. She shakes herself free of these pointless, energy-consuming thoughts.
'Well, you will be free for two weeks!' Juliet decides that it is best to keep her questioning thoughts to herself.
'Yes, I will.' Toula finds her smile again and the rest of the hour passes with much humour. Some of Toula's jokes about Apostolis are a little unkind. But who is Juliet to judge with all the unkind things she said and thought about Mick around the time she got divorced? For a while, she was really quite bitter.
At one point, Toula says again she knows of a man that would suit Juliet so well. Juliet changes the subject.
When Toula leaves, she kisses Juliet a fond farewell on both cheeks. Juliet wishes her sto kalo— go to the good. With her head wobbling slightly, Toula’s slow, steady pace toward her house seems so familiar now. If Juliet had not split up from Mike when the boys went to University, that might well have been her, a little old lady in a bar-less prison, held by fear of the unknown and lack of self-belief. She is glad that even at this late stage, Toula is thinking about liberating herself.
'If a woman never takes off her high-heeled shoes, how will she ever know how far she can walk or how fast she can run?' Juliet whispers the quote towards the receding Toula, to offer her invisible strength, solidarity.
Her steady steps slow as she reaches the bougainvillea, but then Toula seems to change her mind and continues empty-handed. At her door, she fumbles in her bag, presumably for her key. She seems to take so long, Juliet checks the table, around the coffee cups, to see if any keys have been left behind, but there are none.
Toula’s grey head leans in toward the door, but from this distance Juliet cannot hear the words clearly. There is only a murmur and the old lady’s lips move.
One time when Juliet found herself in conversation with one of the port police—a radio operator, if memory serves—he told her that the acoustics up and down the stairwells of these old house are strange. If you put your ear to the door at the bottom, apparently, you can hear every word spoken in the apartments above, in the stairwells and, even, if there is one, in the lift shaft. He said that, with the overly zealous captain they had at the time, he and his colleagues had found many an opportunity to eavesdrop before mounting the stairs to the port police office. It had kept them out of a lot of trouble, being able to concoct alibies and excuses before being met at the top of the stairs with accusations and wrath.
Toula's conversation continues until the dark red door suddenly changes to black as it is opened inward. She steps into the shadows and a cat rushes out, panicking for its freedom.
At that moment, a group of teenagers fills the end of the lane and their noise breaks the peace. Their adult bodies are at odds with their juvenile movements and noise. They swarm together, three of them are singing loudly, the boys play-fighting as they walk, and a group of girls, arms linked, walk carefully, aware of their every move on display. Their clothes are brightly coloured, the language loud and flamboyant, their movements full of energy. They walk straight past Juliet's table and the little café as if they did not see it or her. The chairs are bumped into and moved out of the way and they take their life and noise with them further up the street, where they turn a corner and the place falls silent again.
Toula's door is now shut. The cat is climbing onto the air conditioning unit.
Juliet thanks the waiter, who is in no hurry to lose her presence, before
Juliet recognises her thinking has fallen into well-worn grooves. She shakes herself free of these pointless, energy-consuming thoughts.
'Well, you will be free for two weeks!' Juliet decides that it is best to keep her questioning thoughts to herself.
'Yes, I will.' Toula finds her smile again and the rest of the hour passes with much humour. Some of Toula's jokes about Apostolis are a little unkind. But who is Juliet to judge with all the unkind things she said and thought about Mick around the time she got divorced? For a while, she was really quite bitter.
At one point, Toula says again she knows of a man that would suit Juliet so well. Juliet changes the subject.
When Toula leaves, she kisses Juliet a fond farewell on both cheeks. Juliet wishes her sto kalo— go to the good. With her head wobbling slightly, Toula’s slow, steady pace toward her house seems so familiar now. If Juliet had not split up from Mike when the boys went to University, that might well have been her, a little old lady in a bar-less prison, held by fear of the unknown and lack of self-belief. She is glad that even at this late stage, Toula is thinking about liberating herself.
'If a woman never takes off her high-heeled shoes, how will she ever know how far she can walk or how fast she can run?' Juliet whispers the quote towards the receding Toula, to offer her invisible strength, solidarity.
Her steady steps slow as she reaches the bougainvillea, but then Toula seems to change her mind and continues empty-handed. At her door, she fumbles in her bag, presumably for her key. She seems to take so long, Juliet checks the table, around the coffee cups, to see if any keys have been left behind, but there are none.
Toula’s grey head leans in toward the door, but from this distance Juliet cannot hear the words clearly. There is only a murmur and the old lady’s lips move.
One time when Juliet found herself in conversation with one of the port police—a radio operator, if memory serves—he told her that the acoustics up and down the stairwells of these old house are strange. If you put your ear to the door at the bottom, apparently, you can hear every word spoken in the apartments above, in the stairwells and, even, if there is one, in the lift shaft. He said that, with the overly zealous captain they had at the time, he and his colleagues had found many an opportunity to eavesdrop before mounting the stairs to the port police office. It had kept them out of a lot of trouble, being able to concoct alibies and excuses before being met at the top of the stairs with accusations and wrath.
Toula's conversation continues until the dark red door suddenly changes to black as it is opened inward. She steps into the shadows and a cat rushes out, panicking for its freedom.
At that moment, a group of teenagers fills the end of the lane and their noise breaks the peace. Their adult bodies are at odds with their juvenile movements and noise. They swarm together, three of them are singing loudly, the boys play-fighting as they walk, and a group of girls, arms linked, walk carefully, aware of their every move on display. Their clothes are brightly coloured, the language loud and flamboyant, their movements full of energy. They walk straight past Juliet's table and the little café as if they did not see it or her. The chairs are bumped into and moved out of the way and they take their life and noise with them further up the street, where they turn a corner and the place falls silent again.
Toula's door is now shut. The cat is climbing onto the air conditioning unit.
Juliet thanks the waiter, who is in no hurry to lose her presence, before
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