‘Me too, Michalis,’ she replied and meant it. She found his comment touching and honest; they had only known each other for a short time yet she felt a warm affinity towards him as if he was an old friend. She leaned into him and squeezed his arm.
‘I’ve been waiting for someone like you for a long time,’ he told her with a beaming smile.
‘I’ve never known anyone like you,’ she said and smiled back.
During the course of the day, thoughts of her aunt Froso and young Kosmas kept intruding into her mind. If at any point she felt an urge to discuss with Michalis what she had learned, she dismissed it; this was her aunt’s business and no one else’s. If anyone was familiar with Froso’s story, she concluded, it would probably be her cousin Costis; she made a mental note to ask him about it the next time they met.
By the time Michalis stopped the car at the house the sun had long gone, the mountain behind the village had turned into shades of purple and the sky into an indigo blue, while the first star was already hanging low and bright above the horizon. Michalis escorted Calli into the garden in order to greet Froso, who was sitting with her needlework at the wooden table.
‘Kalispera, Kyria Froso,’ Michalis called out cheerfully as she got up to welcome them. ‘How was your hospital visit?’
‘Kalispera to you both,’ she replied, smiling broadly, her pleasure at seeing them evident all over her face. ‘It was fine,’ she said dismissively. ‘Come, sit, what can I fetch you both?’ she added, already making towards the kitchen.
‘Nothing, Kyria Froso, I must be going,’ Michalis replied. ‘I start work early tomorrow. I will come and see you soon,’ he promised.
While wishing to spend more time with Michalis, Calli needed to be with her aunt this evening; it was time for her to continue with her story. Besides, Michalis had arranged to meet her again very soon.
3
Crete, 1950
Finding time to be together and alone proved to be extremely challenging for the two young lovers. Kosmas had to go to sea every day, fishing with his brothers and father, and Froso had her domestic duties. Other than the one or two mornings a month when the young girl ventured to the upper village for her books, she was never alone. For the most part they had to make do with seeing each other on Sundays at church. Their imposed segregation served to inflame their passion and each time they met, either standing in close proximity to each other during the Sunday service, if her mother didn’t insist she joined her upstairs in the women’s gallery, or accidentally touching when they met outside the church, their love and determination to find time to steal away increased.
Once in a while Kosmas faked sickness at the quayside on a morning when he knew Froso was taking the bus to the school and would sneak off, having arranged to meet her in a remote place away from prying eyes. Those Sunday mornings in church were the perfect opportunities for making arrangements. A discreet note passed between them, always making sure her father was nowhere near, or a furtive whisper were enough to keep them going for days with the heady anticipation of meeting. Kosmas knew of a small ravine in the outskirts of the village with caves and hollows in the rocks, where they could be safe and private, and when he could get away, they would plan to meet there. Froso would first visit her teacher, collect her book, then instead of returning to the square to board the bus back home as she always did, she would walk in the opposite direction, hoping no one had seen her. She would then scramble down the hill and rush to meet Kosmas, who, as arranged, would already be there waiting for her. He would always make the journey on his bicycle, avoiding riding on the bus, thus ensuring that no one had seen him arrive.
Their time together was short and precious; they could not afford to raise suspicion, because then Nikiforos would insist that Calliope must put a stop to Froso’s visits to the school. If, God forbid, they were caught together in the cave they would be punished and, worse, be barred from even speaking to one another, hence destroying any chances they had of her family accepting him as a marriage match. Froso also knew