Songbirds(67)

When I got home, the house was empty and hollow. I collapsed onto my bed. I imagined I was inside a seashell. The past echoed in its chamber, a far-away sea, long ago, my father’s voice clear and warm above blue waves: Look at that, Petra, look at that jellyfish, look how luminous it is, look how beautiful! No, don’t reach out to touch it, baby. It will hurt you. Sometimes the most beautiful things can hurt us.

And Stephanos, his laughter. That’s what I could hear – Stephanos laughing about a cake I had baked that was as flat as a Frisbee. We spread jam on it, we ate, we made love. Then Nisha, crying in her room night after night when she first arrived. Me, stopping outside her bedroom door and listening. ‘Can you hear that baby crying?’ Nisha had said one night, leaning out of the window. ‘I can hear a baby crying, as if it is crying for me.’

And Aliki.

Mum.

The word had disappeared. She had swallowed it up inside her. She knew, didn’t she? She knew that I was far away, from the day she was born. I heard it now, that single beautiful word; I heard it inside the hollow shell over the sounds of the sea and my father’s voice and Stephano’s laughter and Nisha’s tears.

I saw it like a jellyfish floating away in the water, and I wanted to reach out and touch it.

Mum.

And that’s when I understood Nisha’s tears. That’s when I finally knew about her pain.

Mum.

*

I woke up to Aliki patting me on the cheek.

‘Mum, Mum, Mum, are you awake? What are you doing home?’

‘Oh, stop now, shush, girl. Do not wake your mother.’ Mrs Hadjikyriacou appeared in the doorway, motioning for Aliki to come out of the room.

‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘I’m awake.’

I thanked Mrs Hadjikyriacou, letting her get back to Ruba, and suggested to Aliki that we cook together.

‘How about we make moussaka?’

Aliki’s eyes lit up and she nodded. This was her favourite Greek dish too, and she had always loved helping Nisha fry the aubergines and make the béchamel sauce.

*

I was in bed and just about to drift off, when my phone rang. I looked at the clock and my heart dropped. It was eleven o’clock. No one called with good news this late.

‘Is that Petra?’ a male voice said on the other end.

‘Speaking.’

A short silence followed before he said, ‘Petra, this is Tony from the Blue Tiger.’

I sat up in bed. ‘Yes, Tony, hello.’

‘I’m wondering if you might be able to come and see me. I have some information, but this is not a matter I can discuss over the phone. I would prefer to see you face to face.’

I ran a hand through my hair, the better to wake myself up. ‘I’ll come tomorrow,’ I said. ‘I might bring someone with me this time, if that’s OK with you?’

‘As long as you’re certain this person is trustworthy.’

‘He is. Don’t worry about that.’

*

The following morning, I took Aliki to school, and once again called Keti and asked her to cancel my appointments for the day. Back at home, I went straight up the iron stair-case and knocked. It took a while for Yiannis to come to the door. He was unshaven and dishevelled. His stubble had a hint of silver.

‘Did I wake you up?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Come in.’

In the kitchen, morning light fell through the shutters onto the table, and the bird was hopping amongst the rays. In the middle of this large table was a bowl of water and a handful of seeds.

This time Yiannis put the coffee on the stove without asking, and I sat on the plastic chair. The bird fluttered from the table to the kitchen worktop, close to Yiannis. He put his hand out to protect the bird from the flame and left it there as a barrier.

‘The bird’s even better today,’ I said.

‘Yes.’

‘You’ll set it free soon?’

‘Of course.’ He stirred the coffee gently. Then he opened a jar of karydaki glyko and placed two fresh, whole walnuts, husk, shell and nut, leached and soaked in honey syrup on small plates with tiny silver forks. I hadn’t had one of these for years, and even the smell reminded me of this very flat, many years ago, when my aunt lived here. I suddenly remembered the lime-green curtains that had hung from the wall, embroidered with peacocks and lime trees. What had happened to them?

‘So, you have more news?’ Yiannis said, placing the coffee in front of me and sitting down.

‘I received a call from Tony – the guy I told you about.’

He nodded.

‘Late last night, he called to say he has some information that is troubling.’ I swallowed hard, trying to hide my panic from Yiannis; I thought I would start to cry.

Yiannis sat up, a deep crease forming in his brow.

‘He wouldn’t tell me over the phone. I’m going to see him this afternoon. I thought you would want to come with me.’

‘Of course,’ he said, gently, but I noticed that his fists were clenched and his knuckles were white. He caught my eye. ‘I’m scared,’ he said.

‘What of ?’

But he didn’t reply. We ate the karydaki glyko and drank our coffee in complete silence, while the bird hopped about in the rays of light between us.

‘There’s something else,’ I said.