engulfing her in a warm embrace and landing a loud kiss on each cheek. ‘How long has it been?’
‘Too long!’ she said, kissing him back.
The drive to the village reminded her of the taxi ride she had made a few weeks previously in Ikaria. As they left the airport and headed for the hills the sea behind them shimmered in the evening light, reflecting shades of gold, and the undulating land was covered with olive groves as far as the eye could see. The city of Heraklion stretching across the valley rose like a concrete forest and she was glad to leave it behind and begin the ascent through the hills towards the village. When she was young her grandfather would pick them up from the airport along with her yiayia and Thia Froso, who would often insist on coming along too. Then they would all be squashed into the car like sardines and either she or Alex or both would have to sit on an adult’s lap, with the result that as the road snaked through the mountains one or other child would start to feel carsick. But of course, as soon as they arrived at their destination the discomfort was all worthwhile and both children forgot about their nausea. On those summer visits long ago, as they drove into the village, more often than not some of the local kids who considered Calli and her brother a source of curiosity and amusement would spot the car and start running after them. They would chase them up the hill to the house, where other relatives and friends would have gathered to welcome them.
‘So please tell me, how is Thia Froso?’ she asked Costis, surprised that he had not yet raised the subject.
‘You probably don’t realize it, but you couldn’t have come at a better time,’ he replied as he masterfully manoeuvred yet another hairpin bend over a steep ravine.
‘I think I do . . .’ she replied, not sure if he was referring to her aunt’s illness. ‘It’s Thia Froso, she’s not well, right?’
‘Oh! You know about it . . . I wasn’t sure if you did,’ he said as he flicked his cigarette ash out of the open window. ‘My mother spends quite a lot of time with her lately, taking her to the hospital etc.’
‘Yes, I know, your mother sent my mother an email about it. That’s why I am here now . . . I thought I mentioned it in my text.’
‘You probably did, but I was so pleased you were coming I forgot.’
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Calli asked, wondering why her cousin seemed so unconcerned. ‘Will she be all right?’ Calli tried to extract some kind of information from him.
‘I don’t know. She seems fine to me,’ he replied, turning to look at her. ‘I tell you one thing: she was over the moon when she heard you were coming.’
They found Froso waiting in the yard, sitting at the wooden table under the shade of two old olive trees in front of the house. She knew that Costis was picking Calli up from the airport and was anxiously waiting for her. She had been up since early morning baking and preparing all of her niece’s favourite food. She had a soft spot for Calli, who reminded her of her own young self before life became a hardship. She had always thought that as a child her sister’s daughter possessed the same energy, the same defiant spirit that both she and Eleni had had at that age. But Froso’s spirit had been crushed early; she had to grow up fast and learn to be responsible. Being so much older than her brother and sister, she had to pull her weight around the house and help her mother with bringing up her siblings.
She loved both children, her niece and her nephew, in equal measure; little Alex was always tender and sweet and displayed his affection for her openly, and although young Calli reserved her love exclusively for her grandmother it made no difference to her aunt.
‘She’ll grow out of it,’ Eleni would tell her sister when the girl refused to come to Crete with her anymore and she would arrive only with Alex. ‘She’ll come when she’s ready. You know how stubborn she is.’
When Calli did at last return, she had just completed her first year at art school and had taken a month off to travel around Greece with a couple of friends to take photographs