Songbirds(57)

I took the note that Tony had given me, and Nisha’s bracelet, out of my pocket and placed them on the table.

‘What are these?’ he said, going very still.

‘Two other women are missing.’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘These are their names and the dates when they disappeared.’

Yiannis stared at me without looking down at the paper.

‘And this is Nisha’s bracelet, as I’m sure you recognise. It was a gift from Aliki, and Nisha never took it off. Another maid found it on the street near Maria’s.’

I could see the fear in his eyes. His hard silence reminded me of Muyia’s wooden sculptures, frozen in time.

I told Yiannis about going to the Blue Tiger, how I had met Tony and what he had told me about the other two maids. While I was talking, he sat with both hands on the table, a deep frown between his brows. It was only when I finished talking that he moved, bringing his hand up to his face, pressing his temples with his thumb and finger, creasing his face in the way that he had when he’d downed the zivania at my apartment.

I expected that he would speak but he said nothing at all. We sat there in silence for a long time, Yiannis with his fingers pressed against his temples, me with my hands in my lap. The kitchen window was open a crack and a cold breeze drifted through the jasmine flowers, riffling their smell.

‘Aliki, this is too difficult.’

‘Keep going!’

‘Nylon? And before you ask, the woman who is reading the novel – to your right – is wearing nylon tights.’

‘That’s very good. But no.’

‘Necklace.’

‘No.’

‘Neck! ’

‘No.’

‘Nun? ’

‘Nisha, where do you see a nun? ’

‘We passed a church and a nun was outside in the garden.’

‘You see everything.’

‘You should be more observant.’

‘OK, do you give up? ’

‘Let me try one last time . . . nostril! ’

‘The answer is Nisha.’

‘Me? That’s cheating! I can’t see me! ’

‘Why? I see you! ’

‘I would never have guessed that! I could have gone all week and I would never have guessed that.’

‘Isn’t it funny that you saw everything but yourself ? ’

‘Something is really wrong,’ Yiannis said, eventually.

‘I know.’

‘Something is really wrong,’ he repeated, this time more to himself, as he scratched a knot in the wood of the table with his nail. His foot shook intermittently underneath his chair, which made the table tremble and the coffee cups rattle in their saucers. He seemed to be thinking, thinking, thinking. I imagined his mind spinning and I tried to keep mine still.

‘At first I thought I might have scared her away,’ he said.

‘Why?’

‘The night before she went missing, I asked her to marry me.’

‘You wanted to marry her?’

The table stopped trembling. He exhaled deeply and brought his hand up to his face again, this time rubbing his thumb and forefinger towards each other across his eyes, as if he was scooping up tears before they fell.

‘I found a ring on her dressing table. So that was from you.’

He nodded and glanced up at me, as if he was now worried about my reaction.

I wondered what conversations they may have had: the discussions about Nisha losing her job, just like other maids who had become embroiled in relationships. They were meant to be working and even when they were resting, we owned them. This was the unspoken truth.

Had his proposal scared her away? Was this a possibility? It would have been simpler and much less frightening to cling to this thought, but the piece of paper in front of us fluttered slightly in the breeze as if it was trying to take flight.

‘Please,’ I said. ‘Have a look at these names. Do you recognise them?’

He picked up the piece of paper and read it. ‘No. She’s never mentioned them to me.’

‘You’re sure?’

He nodded. ‘I would have remembered.’

‘Mrs Hadjikyriacou told me she saw Nisha the night she went missing, at ten thirty, heading north up towards the buffer zone.’

‘That’s the street that leads to Maria’s,’ he said, nodding.

‘Yes.’

He thought for a while. ‘Spyros – the postman – told me he saw her rushing along the street. Apparently she told him that she was going to Maria’s to meet Seraphim.’

I frowned. ‘Seraphim, your colleague?’

‘Yes.’

‘I bumped into him at Maria’s on Friday night. I stopped in to leave a flyer and talk to the manager. What connection does Seraphim have with Nisha?’

‘Nothing, as far as I know. She’d met him and his wife a few times, that’s all.’

‘Have you spoken to him?’

‘He denied seeing her or arranging to meet her.’

‘Do you believe him?’

He didn’t reply.

‘Something’s not right there,’ I said.

Yiannis went into the living room and returned with a handful of red berries, which he placed on the table. The bird ate them one by one. I watched Yiannis as he watched the bird eat. There was a softness to this man; he seemed to have a gentle and troubled soul.