Read Online The Unquiet Mind (The Greek Village Collection Book 8) by Sara Alexi - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sara Alexi
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to clean up around here. Which you might find your way to helping me with, Yanni? Seeing as your time will not be as pressed as mine is … But come, let’s go. Stella and Mitsos make a good chicken and chips and we’ll go to Theo’s kafeneio again and watch the match tonight. You like football, right? Even if you don’t, it’s a good atmosphere and besides, I need to be seen in as many local places as I can, get myself noticed, be the name on everyone’s lips, if you know what I mean.’ He leaves the room, taking the empty water glass. Yanni manages to sit up, his feet over the edge of the bed. Bright light floods through the doorway and he can see past a table and into a sitting room. There are plates, shoes, shirts, plastic bags, boxes from the zaharoplasteio —sweet shop—on their sides, empty of the baklava and kataifi they once held, the honey and gooey remains puddling onto the tiles. Babis did not exaggerate when he described it as a bit of a mess. Yanni puts his hand to his temple again.
‘You want some Depon or aspirin?’ Babis brings another glass of water and two packets. Yanni shrugs. Babis opens one of the boxes and pops out two pills from the blisters. ‘Here you go.’ Yanni inspects the shiny pink pills in the palm of his hand. Very occasionally, his mama took these things when he was young, but very rarely, once a month if that. He wasn’t aware men could take them too, but if they will relieve this pain, then why not? He hardly notices them going down.
‘Right, let’s go then.’ Babis waits at the door with his arm outstretched as if to show the way into the sitting room. Picking his way through the things on the floor and using any surface that is not too covered in grime to steady himself, Yanni makes it to the back door. He is not taking anything much in, but that is probably just as well.
‘I don’t use the front door much.’ Babis trips down the steps. ‘It’s got a nice veranda that looks down onto the back of the roof of the kiosk and the rest of the square, which is great for watching people come and go, but it’s easier to come out of this side door then, look, here is the souvlaki shop. You hungry, by the way? You must be hungry. What time did you start out? The bus journey’s not fun is it? It used to be worse but they have straightened some of the roads.’
Yanni shakes his head. The last thing he needs is the noise of a taverna; Babis’ continuous monologue on its own is proving too much. But he must show his appreciation for his second cousin so kindly putting him up. It would not do to reject his hospitality, and he is being very hospitable. Yanni blinks a few times and opens his eyes wide. At least it is dark. Maybe he can manage a taverna and a bite to eat. He will offer to pay. After that, he can make his excuses. He has no desire to watch any football match. He is here to deliver Sister Katerina’s parcel, buy a donkey, and go home—and that’s it. Three days maximum. He has already wasted the entire afternoon sleeping as soon as he got here, so he had better plan out his time carefully. At least his head is starting to feel a little better.
‘Hello Babis.’ A petite woman in a sleeveless floral dress greets him as they leave the house. Shafts of light from inside the taverna spread an inviting glow across into the darkness. Someone has wound a thousand tiny lights around the trunk of a tree that stands sentinel between the tables on the pavement, their wooden tops smooth with plastic cloths reflecting the glow. No one is sitting outside but there are sounds of voices from inside the tiny but brightly lit place.
‘Out or in?’ the woman asks, offering them a choice of any of the four outside tables, each only big enough for two people, with a sweep of her arm.
‘Stella, this is Yanni, my second cousin from Orino Island,’ Babis gushes.
‘Hello Yanni.’ Her voice is quiet and warm and her movements those of a girl but her face betrays wisdom only
‘You want some Depon or aspirin?’ Babis brings another glass of water and two packets. Yanni shrugs. Babis opens one of the boxes and pops out two pills from the blisters. ‘Here you go.’ Yanni inspects the shiny pink pills in the palm of his hand. Very occasionally, his mama took these things when he was young, but very rarely, once a month if that. He wasn’t aware men could take them too, but if they will relieve this pain, then why not? He hardly notices them going down.
‘Right, let’s go then.’ Babis waits at the door with his arm outstretched as if to show the way into the sitting room. Picking his way through the things on the floor and using any surface that is not too covered in grime to steady himself, Yanni makes it to the back door. He is not taking anything much in, but that is probably just as well.
‘I don’t use the front door much.’ Babis trips down the steps. ‘It’s got a nice veranda that looks down onto the back of the roof of the kiosk and the rest of the square, which is great for watching people come and go, but it’s easier to come out of this side door then, look, here is the souvlaki shop. You hungry, by the way? You must be hungry. What time did you start out? The bus journey’s not fun is it? It used to be worse but they have straightened some of the roads.’
Yanni shakes his head. The last thing he needs is the noise of a taverna; Babis’ continuous monologue on its own is proving too much. But he must show his appreciation for his second cousin so kindly putting him up. It would not do to reject his hospitality, and he is being very hospitable. Yanni blinks a few times and opens his eyes wide. At least it is dark. Maybe he can manage a taverna and a bite to eat. He will offer to pay. After that, he can make his excuses. He has no desire to watch any football match. He is here to deliver Sister Katerina’s parcel, buy a donkey, and go home—and that’s it. Three days maximum. He has already wasted the entire afternoon sleeping as soon as he got here, so he had better plan out his time carefully. At least his head is starting to feel a little better.
‘Hello Babis.’ A petite woman in a sleeveless floral dress greets him as they leave the house. Shafts of light from inside the taverna spread an inviting glow across into the darkness. Someone has wound a thousand tiny lights around the trunk of a tree that stands sentinel between the tables on the pavement, their wooden tops smooth with plastic cloths reflecting the glow. No one is sitting outside but there are sounds of voices from inside the tiny but brightly lit place.
‘Out or in?’ the woman asks, offering them a choice of any of the four outside tables, each only big enough for two people, with a sweep of her arm.
‘Stella, this is Yanni, my second cousin from Orino Island,’ Babis gushes.
‘Hello Yanni.’ Her voice is quiet and warm and her movements those of a girl but her face betrays wisdom only
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