preparing this meal for someone dear, someone who they all knew played a pivotal part in their lives.
Once everything was ready Froso neatly parcelled the food in cooking pots, wrapped them in crisp white tea towels, and they set off for their visit. They found the old man waiting for them under a leafy lemon tree in his garden, listening to music from the small transistor radio by his side on the table, a couple of cats lying at his feet in the shade.
‘In my youth I used to play the laouto and the lyra and you should have seen me dance the Pentozali,’ he told them with a chuckle as Froso started to serve the food.
‘I can vouch for that, he was almost as good as Kosmas – but not quite,’ she said with a smile as she spooned a helping of briam onto his plate.
19
Michalis received the news of Nicos’s homecoming with jubilation. Not only would his brother rejoin him, but with him would be a new addition to their family – Calli, who had become as dear to him as any close relative. The prospect of her coming to live in the adjoining house with Nicos was better than he could have ever imagined.
‘Time is precious. We need to seize the moment, and this is my moment,’ Nicos had said when he announced his intention to propose to Calli. ‘I’ve fallen in love before, as you well know,’ he told his brother, ‘but never like this . . . I have never before met a woman who made me feel as she does.’
‘You’re a lucky man and she’s very special,’ Michalis agreed. ‘I believe you will make each other happy. There are so many people in the world who never get the chance to meet their soulmate.’
‘That is very true, but you, my brother, did meet your soulmate yet you let him go . . .’ Nicos’s expression was serious as he waited for Michalis to respond. The soulmate that he was referring to was the only man that his brother had ever spoken to him about. His name was Alexandros and he lived in Athens. Michalis had met him when he took a holiday break to visit Nicos on the mainland a couple of years ago and in the hub of the big city he felt free at last to let go enough and get romantically involved with a man. He was an artist, a painter, and they had met in the gallery where Alexandros worked to supplement his income. He longed to come and visit him in Crete, proclaiming that he had always believed it was the land of inspiration, but Michalis preferred to keep their meetings clandestine and in Athens. Their relationship continued for a while until he decided he couldn’t carry on any longer, thus breaking the young man’s heart. It had been the first time that Michalis had allowed himself to fall in love and to even possibly envisage a long-term relationship with a man, but what he couldn’t envisage was returning to Crete with Alexandros, despite his brother’s encouragement and reassurance that together they would speak to the family. Since Crete was where Michalis wanted to live he had to make a choice.
‘Perhaps it’s time you got in touch with him again,’ Nicos told his brother. ‘I see Alexandros from time to time in Athens and I know he still loves you . . .’ Nicos said no more, he knew his brother well enough, he didn’t do things in a hurry ever.
Calli on the other had accepted Nicos’s proposal and plan to set up home together without a second thought. The voice in her head, which she vowed never to ignore again, told her this was the right thing to do, and her heart was in total agreement. Not only had she fallen in love with Nicos and would gladly make a life and a family with him, but her love for Crete had been reignited too. As an artist she saw beauty everywhere; now her art would blossom here, she was certain of it.
‘Will you marry me, Calli?’ Nicos had asked the morning they lay under the eucalyptus trees.
‘Yes, Nicos, I will,’ she replied and couldn’t believe her ears. All the years she lived with James, all ten of them, she never once thought about marriage, nor did he. It seemed so unnecessary, so antiquated – who had to have a bit of paper to say you were committed?