The Island of Missing Trees(51)

‘Defne! What are you d-doing here?’ Yusuf asked.

‘I’m so glad I found you! I was worried you might be gone.’

‘We are closing,’ said Yiorgos. ‘The staff have resigned. They don’t want to work any more. And you shouldn’t be out like this. It’s dangerous. Did you not hear? British families are going home. A chartered plane took off this morning carrying army wives and children. There is another plane tomorrow.’

Defne had heard stories about how English ladies had boarded the plane in their pastel hats and matching dresses, their suitcases packed tight. There was relief on their faces. But many were tearful, too, for they were departing an island they had come to love.

Yiorgos said, ‘When Westerners run away like that it means those of us they leave behind are in deep shit.’

‘Everyone in my community is extremely worried,’ said Defne. ‘They say there’s going to be a bloodbath.’

‘Let’s n-not lose hope, it’ll pass,’ said Yusuf.

‘But we are happy to see you,’ said Yiorgos. ‘We’ve something for you. A letter from Kostas.’

‘Oh, good, you’ve seen him. How is he doing? He’s okay, right? Thank God!’ She plucked the envelope from his hand, pressing it close to her chest. Quickly, she opened her handbag. ‘I’ve got something for him too. Here, take it!’

Neither Yusuf nor Yiorgos reached for her letter.

Defne felt her gut twist, tried to ignore the feeling. ‘I can’t stay long. Will you take this to Kostas?’

‘We can’t,’ said Yiorgos.

‘It’s okay. There’s no danger in you walking to his house. Please, this is very important. There’s something urgent I need to tell him.’

Yusuf shifted his weight from foot to foot. ‘So you d-d-don’t know?’

‘Don’t know what?’

‘He’s gone,’ Yiorgos said. ‘Kostas left for England. We think his mother forced him; he didn’t have much of a choice. He tried to reach you. He came here several times asking for you, left the envelope the last time. But we thought he had found you in the end. We thought he had told you.’

On the ground by her shoe she noticed a phalanx of ants, dragging a dead beetle. She watched them for a few seconds, unable to make sense of how she felt. It wasn’t pain exactly that seized her, that would come later. It wasn’t shock either, though that too would descend soon. It was as if she were gripped by an irresistible force of gravity, locking her forever to this spot and in this moment.

Lifting her chin, her eyes unfocused, she gave a curt nod. Without a word, she walked away. Behind her, Yusuf shouted her name. She did not respond.

In the distance, smoke billowed over the rooftops; parts of the city were burning. Everywhere she looked she saw men – carrying guns, stacking sandbags, men with grim expressions and boots caked in dust. Civilians, soldiers, paramilitaries. Where had all the island’s women gone?

She steered towards the backstreets, drifting away from the turmoil, passing through gardens and orchards. Aimlessly, she kept going, her shadow pacing beside her. The day dimmed into evening, the world drained of colour. By the time she reached her house, hours later, her ankles and arms were scratched by brambles, like an inscription in a language she had never learned to speak.

Since then she had been silent, withdrawn, her lips curled in concentration. She had tried her best to act normal around Meryem, otherwise her sister would have started asking questions. It was not that hard, she had found, to postpone the pain. Just like she had postponed reading his letter until later in the evening.

My darling Defne,

I cannot believe I haven’t been able to see you before I leave for England. I started writing this letter, stopped, and started again so many times. I wanted to tell you the news myself. But I couldn’t reach you.

It is my mother. She is full of fears, impossible to reason with. She is worried that something awful will happen to me. She cried and cried and begged me to go to London. I couldn’t say ‘no’ to her. But I won’t let her do this ever again. She is sick, you know that. Her health is deteriorating. Since my father died, she has worked ceaselessly to take care of us. Michalis’s death shattered her, and now with Andreas away, I am the only one she has to rely on. I could not bear seeing her like that. I could not let her down.

It is only for a short time, I promise. In London, I will stay with my uncle. There won’t be a single day that I won’t think about you, not a single heartbeat that I won’t miss you. I will be back in two weeks, at most. I will bring you presents from England!

I didn’t even get a chance to tell you what the other night meant for me. When we left the tavern … the moon, the smell of your hair, your hand in my hand, after all that horror when we realized we had only each other to depend on.

You know what I’ve been thinking since? I’ve been thinking that you are my country. Is that a strange thing to say? Without you, I don’t have a home in this world; I am a felled tree, my roots severed all round; you can topple me with the touch of a finger.

I will return soon, I won’t let this happen again. And maybe next time, one day, we will go to England together, who knows?

Please think of me every day, I’ll be back before you know it.

I love you.

Kostas