to come to terms with himself, and although some opportunities for relationships with both men and women presented themselves, he felt awkward, inhibited, uncertain. ‘Then I met a girl, an Athenian, and I decided to try and make a go of it with her,’ he told Calli. ‘We came back to the village, thinking we could set up home here and get married . . . I thought it would please my mother, you see,’ he sighed, regret sounding in his voice. ‘I thought I could win, I thought I could fight against it, but fighting the waves of the sea is pointless . . . I realized that I had to give in, I had to accept the power of nature . . . my nature. That was a low time in my life. I felt bad, not only for the girl but for myself, too . . . that was the first time I decided I needed to talk to someone.’
Michalis had thought that perhaps he could talk to his friend Costis: ‘He was my oldest friend, we knew each other since primary school. But I couldn’t do it. I thought of taking Chrysanthi into my confidence: she too had become a good friend over the years. But I just couldn’t bring myself to talk to her either.’ Her insistence on finding him a wife, Michalis told Calli, amused and saddened him at the same time. Instead he learned to be evasive and threw himself into his work. His love for the land must be solace enough for him.
‘My trees and my olive oil, all that went a long way, and still does, to keep me content and stable,’ he continued, ‘and I learned to accept my life. If I wanted to live here, I had to accept that this was how it had to be. So I locked it all inside and pretended it didn’t exist until I finally spoke to Nicos.’
It was after Nicos had moved to Athens and Michalis went to visit him that at last, away from the village and the family, he summoned the courage and was able to speak about it. ‘I knew that my brother would be the only person I could truly trust not to judge me, I was certain that our bond was stronger than any prejudice, and I was right. He has been my rock ever since.’
Calli, grateful and touched that he cared enough to take her into his confidence, sat silently, letting him speak. ‘When I first met you,’ he said, looking at her, ‘I honestly wished I could have been the man for you.’ He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. ‘Meeting you has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me, you’ve brought me courage . . . you brought me hope.’ He took in a deep breath before continuing. ‘That day in the chapel when you asked me if I wanted children . . . I thought about it endlessly. I couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than having a child with you.’
He picked up a stone and threw it as far as he could into the sea, then turned to her. ‘But I am not the man for you, Calli mou . . . my brother is.’
14
By the time the two friends had finished talking and started to make their way back to the village, the mountains loomed indigo against the darkening sky and the flickering stars above them were beginning to multiply with each step they took.
Michalis walked her all the way back to Thia Froso’s house but declined an invitation to join the ladies for a drink.
‘I’ve never known him to refuse a coffee or a drink with me,’ Froso commented, sensing a difference in the young man’s usual jovial manner.
‘We stayed by the sea longer than we intended,’ Calli excused him. ‘I expect they are waiting for him at his mother’s house for dinner.’
‘And Nicos? Where is he? Are you going to see him?’ her mother asked.
‘Not tonight, Mum,’ Calli replied, pulling up a chair to join them. ‘Tonight I’d like to be with you two, and I would like to cook for you for a change.’
The idea of cooking for her mother and aunt had occurred to her while she and Michalis were walking back from the beach and the tantalizing aromas from the little tavernas were wafting in the air.
‘So, what do you two feel like eating tonight?’ Calli said as