an intensity she had never seen before, but as she turned her face up to him and their eyes locked, she was consumed by an unexpected and surprising wave of shyness. He smiled gently then took her hand in his and held it tight as they walked on.
Earlier in the summer she had been involved with another man, and it was hard for her not to draw comparisons between the two, even without intending to do so. When she met Paolo, his appeal to Calli lay in his unfamiliarity, his otherness; his smooth lean yoga body and eastern philosophies excited and intrigued her. Michalis, on the other hand, with his sturdy earthiness firmly grounded in the Cretan soil, soothed and comforted her and touched her heart. When she was on Ikaria she had sought a carefree adventure and Paolo had wholeheartedly obliged; their attraction to each other had been sexual, full of curiosity. He was exotic, sexy and spiritual while Michalis, she was discovering, was staunch, solid and straightforward. What she saw in Paolo was new, while her response to Michalis was one of recognition: he was reminiscent of other good men she had met over the years on this island. Perhaps he was even a little like Keith, she thought, a man who could be trusted, relied on – real.
‘You are lucky to have had the opportunities to travel so much,’ Michalis told her one day, producing a world atlas he kept in his car so that she could point out all the places she had been for her assignments. Chrysanthi had been right when she told her that Michalis had more books than anyone she knew; he was always bringing something or other to show her. Travel journals seemed to be his favourite.
He was admittedly much less travelled than herself, yet he possessed a curiosity for the world and a simple philosophy of life that appealed to her.
‘You’re right, I’m very lucky,’ she replied. ‘But no matter how many places I’ve visited for work I have always longed to share the experience with someone. When you’re alone it’s never the same.’ It was true that much as Calli loved her job and revelled in the privileges and richness of her experiences, she always felt a pang of loneliness when she found herself in a place that touched her but had no one to share it with.
‘Of all the countries you have visited, which one did you love the most?’ Michalis asked eagerly.
‘Africa!’ Her reply came without hesitation. ‘The little I saw of the continent moved me to tears at times.’
Michalis looked down at the map and pointed to Crete. ‘Look how close to Africa Crete is. I’ve often thought that this island could almost have been a small piece of land that drifted away from there.’
‘Strange you should say that’ – Calli turned to look at him with surprise – ‘because when I went to north Africa and beyond, I had a strong feeling of familiarity. The earth in the parts of Africa I’ve seen is like the earth in Crete, copper red as if the same blood runs through the veins of both lands.’
‘I don’t know about African soil, perhaps it’s rich in copper,’ Michalis replied, ‘but in Crete it’s probably because of all the blood that has been spilt on it over the centuries. This island has had more than its share of bloodshed,’ he said, sending a shiver through Calli’s spine.
Evidently Froso was very much liked in the village, and Michalis along with her cousin and friends would often join them with their musical instruments to sit under the olive trees and play, sing and drink raki. Invariably Froso would have prepared some mezethakia – little dishes of food to accompany their drinking – and was more grateful and happy than ever to have her girl there and see her enjoy herself. For her part, Calli, now that she had seen her aunt with fresh eyes, was delighted to spend time with her remarkable thia and to help her in any way she could.
For Froso’s next hospital appointment, Calli borrowed Chrysanthi’s car and insisted on driving her to Heraklion.
‘This is a lot more comfortable than Bappou’s car ever was,’ she told her aunt as they both recalled with amusement those airport pick-ups of long ago, squashed into her grandfather’s Morris Minor. In the past, when Calli had visited Crete with James, the only people they came into contact with were her relatives; other than her