Sofias house, p.1
Sofia's House, page 1
SOFIA’S HOUSE
Bill Kitson
writing as
William Gordon
Copyright © William Gordon. 2015
The author asserts their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author or author of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Cover Photo: Jackie Humphries Smith www.travelnwrite.com
Cover design: Val Kitson
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
About the Author
For Val
Wife, lover, best friend, critic and editor.
By the same author
Watering the Olives
The Last Resort
Peaceful Island
Byland Crescent: Book One, Requiem
Byland Crescent: Book Two, Renaissance
Love Changes Everything
Writing as Bill Kitson
DI Mike Nash Series
Depth of Despair
Chosen
Minds That Hate
Altered Egos
Back-Slash
Identity Crisis
Buried in the Past
Dead and Gone
Snow Angel & False Witness
Eden House Mysteries
Silent as the Grave
The Kaiser’s Gold
Vanishing Act
Flesh and Blood
Acknowledgements
My grateful thanks to Jackie Humphries Smith of Travelnwrite.com for allowing me the use of her Greek photograph for the book cover.
As always, my thanks to my wife Val for her tireless work at keeping me in line.
Chapter One
There was no doubt who ruled the family. It seemed to outsiders that as a matriarch, Eleftheria was on the frightening side of fearsome. It was only following the death of her beloved husband that she reluctantly decided to relinquish control of the business empire they had launched and developed. The success of the enterprise had depended on Eleftheria and her business acumen. That, added to her iron determination was as much the reason for its success as the products they sold.
Beginning in the 1960s, when tourism was in its infancy, they seized the burgeoning market it offered. They were able to cash in on returning tourists’ developing taste for the foods they had enjoyed abroad, by opening a delicatessen. This specialised first in produce from her native Greece, but they soon added Spanish, Italian and French goods to their expanding range, and even, with some reluctance, Turkish fare.
The delicatessen expanded opening second, third, then fourth and more branches. Capitalising on the wave of interest, and according to some critics, to use up ageing produce, Eleftheria and her husband opened their first restaurant, basing their menu on the cuisine she had learned as a child on the tiny Greek island of Tritinos. It succeeded as well, if not better than the other side of the business, and soon had several premises scattered in towns throughout England. It was Eleftheria’s idea to entitle the restaurants Eat Greek and her brainwave to combine both them and the delicatessens in the same premises, arguing that this would enable them to increase takings dramatically without extra overheads such as rent, rates, heating and other utilities. The business model worked extremely well, the only effect as a result of their success and diversification was in changing the title of the establishments to Eat Greek And More.
Both Eleftheria and her husband were kept busy by the hectic progress their commercial career had taken them on, even when she was pregnant with their only child, a boy they named Stavros.
In more recent times, the delicatessen business had received a welcome upsurge by the creation of an online trading facility, which was already paying handsome dividends.
The success came at a price, however. Eleftheria and her husband had been happily married for almost thirty-five years when a heart attack snatched him from her. Although saddened by the premature loss of her partner, Eleftheria’s determination was undimmed. Only now, she concentrated her skill and energy in leaving the empire as a fitting tribute, and a suitable legacy for her family. It came as a huge disappointment that her son was uninterested in following her into the business. Stavros, now divorced, left England, preferring instead to seek his fortune in America. He left behind the only other direct family member, Eleftheria’s granddaughter, Sofia.
Now twenty-six years old, Sofia was unmarried and unattached; that had not been of her choice. She had been in a relationship for eighteen months that had ended in bitter recrimination. Resulting from the split, Sofia found herself temporarily homeless and with only a tiny income that barely covered the very basic living expenses. Her father was permanently based in New York, where he had remarried and was raising another family. He had just become a partner in a big law firm and seemed to care little about what was happening across the Atlantic. Sofia’s mother had moved to live in Spain following the divorce, and was, if anything, even less concerned with the fate of the daughter she had given birth to. With no other close family it was natural for Sofia to move to live with her grandmother.
Since Eleftheria had become crippled with arthritis, which she blamed on the English climate, she needed more attention, so Sofia had quit her job in a small bookshop to care for her.
By the time Eleftheria approached her seventieth birthday, she had divested herself of all her assets apart from the house. She reminded Sofia of another property that few were aware of, a house on the remote Greek island of Tritinos. ‘I inherited it following the death of my parents,’ she explained.
Eleftheria noticed Sofia’s surprised glance and repressed a smile of satisfaction. ‘Although I had not been on speaking terms with my mother and father for many years, that property became mine by right. I have decided to leave that house and land solely to you, my beloved Sofia, for taking such care of me. I promised your father that he would get this house here in London when I die, and the money which is tied up in investments. But I have set a small sum aside for you, plus the property on Tritinos, in the village of Galini.’
Their conversation was always conducted in Greek, Eleftheria’s native language. She had insisted her son and granddaughter in turn learning to speak, read and write it. Although both had protested at what they considered an irrelevance, she had been adamant, insisting, ‘Greek is the basis for almost all western languages. Moreover, unlike Latin, the other major influence, Greek is still spoken in many areas of the world.’ Even when speaking in English, Sophia always referred to her grandmother as ‘Yaya’ out of respect.
Now responding to the announcement of a future inheritance, Sofia asked her, ‘Why have you done this, Yaya?’
Eleftheria stared at her granddaughter for a moment before replying. It seemed to the older woman as if she was looking into a mirror of the past, for the girl before her reminded Eleftheria so much of how she had looked that day on Tritinos, when her life had changed forever. That was when she had encountered the young Englishman she fell in love with and later married. But that was a tale from the past, one that only she was left alive to remember.
Sofia continued, ‘I’d all but forgotten that this property existed. I don’t even know where on Tritinos it is. You never speak about the island, or where you were brought up.’
Eleftheria glanced at the clock, then patted the couch alongside her. ‘Sit with me a while and I will tell you. I had very good reasons for wishing to forget my childhood, or rather what followed soon after. What I am about to tell you is a story that not even your father knows. Even if he did, it would mean little to him as he is nowadays; the great American lawyer. The only other person who knew every detail was your grandfather, God rest him. Admittedly there could be one or two older inhabitants of the village who know some of the details, but not the whole tale. Perhaps that is a good thing,’ she added, with a sharp cackle of laughter.
‘There is an old saying that the best meetings are those that happen by chance.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘I’m not sure if that is always so, but it certainly was for your grandfather and me. It was back in 1963, when I was seventeen years old. My plans in life were mapped out, but with little choice from me. I was to be married the following year to a young man named Andonis Kaladis, whose father was the richest man in the village,’ she paused, then added, ‘Knowing Tritinos, that probably meant that he had stolen more sheep and goats than anyone else. The marriage was not to my liking and certainly not of my seeking. My parents and his thought it would be a good thing, and who was I to argue? It wasn’t exactly as if there was a long queue of el
She paused again, and Sofia noticed her expression change, the stern lines became softer as she continued, ‘Then one day I stumbled across a handsome young Englishman. I mean that. I almost fell over him. I had been charged with the task of feeding my father’s sheep up in the Red Hills, and after I fed them I was returning to the village, taking a different path to my usual one, and there he was; lying near the path, fast asleep, absolutely naked.’
‘Naked? As in no clothes at all? That must have been a shock.’ Sofia couldn’t think of anything to else to say.
‘It certainly was, considering that I’d never seen a naked man before. Of course, I turned to walk away but I dislodged a couple of pebbles, and the sound woke him up. I’m not sure which of us was the more embarrassed. In extremely bad Greek, he apologised for having startled me, told me his name was Peter and then told me how beautiful I was; all this while struggling to put his clothes back on. He went back to the village with me, telling me that he was on a walking holiday from England, and was looking for somewhere to stay. I think by the time we reached Galini I was already beginning to fall in love with him.’
She gave the cackle of laughter again. ‘What I’d seen between his legs might have helped there.’
‘Yaya, really!’
‘Oh don’t be such a prude, Sofia. Anyway, he told me that he’d just left university and hadn’t yet decided what to do with his life, and as he hadn’t too much money the walking tour was the best option.’
‘Why was he naked? Was he a naturist?’
‘No, he’d just washed his clothes in the mountain stream. They were the only ones he possessed and as he was waiting for them to dry he fell asleep. I offered to have a word with my father about putting him up in one of our spare rooms, but he refused. That upset me until he explained the reason.’
‘What was that?’
‘He told me it would have been bad manners to seduce a girl and make love to her when he was a guest in her father’s house. And as he desired me, he would have to stay somewhere else.’
‘It didn’t stop him seducing you, did it?’
‘Actually, I think it was the other way round, I seduced him, which wasn’t difficult. A few days later we’d gone swimming together in a little bay further along the coast. Nobody else was about, and I knew without doubt what I wanted. I made the first move, I think, but it was a bit like setting a match to newspaper soaked with petrol. I’d lit a fire we couldn’t put out, even if we’d wanted to, which we didn’t. We were unable to stop ourselves and spent every minute together, making love and making plans. He stayed for the whole of the summer, abandoning his walking holiday to be with me. We tried to keep our affair secret, but in a small village that was impossible. Gossip began to spread and in August I had to tell my parents that I could no longer proceed with the arranged marriage to Andonis. By then I knew I was pregnant.
‘Naturally, there was an unholy row and it ended when Andonis and Peter had a stand-up fight. Peter was the victor, but my father threatened to shoot him if he didn’t leave immediately. My parents threw me out at the same time. They told me I was a whore, a cheap slut no man would marry. They got that wrong. I had already made plans to leave with Peter. I knew I wanted to be with him always, and knew that he felt the same about me. It wasn’t only the physical love, right from the start it was if our minds were completely in tune. I believe it is extremely rare for a couple to be together as many years as we were, and never to fight, or disagree, but in our case, that is exactly how it was.
‘The strangest part of it was that on many occasions your grandfather would say something, and it would be exactly what I was thinking at that precise moment, and the same happened the other way round.
‘Anyway, we married in Acropoli, the island’s capital. We then sailed to the island of Sorgos, then onto Athens and came to England. I have never been back to the island, let alone Galini since that time.’
‘Don’t you miss it?’
‘Occasionally, when the wind blows cold and the rain comes heavily. Apart from that, not one bit. Your grandfather and I had a wonderful life together. My only regret was that I was unable to have more children. I had a difficult time giving birth to your father.’ Eleftheria paused, shook her head and commented, ‘Come to think of it, he’s been difficult all his life.’ She shrugged. ‘We would have loved to have had more, but it wasn’t to be. That wasn’t for lack of trying. Your grandfather was quite a man, strong and virile as a bull, and I was happy to be with him.’ She took Sofia’s hand. ‘Make sure you find one like that. He doesn’t have to be naked, although I admit it is useful to see what you’re getting beforehand,’ she added with a smile.
Sofia smiled back and nodded acceptance of the advice as her grandmother took up the story. ‘I confess that when I found Peter lying asleep that day in the Red Hills, it was a few minutes before I turned away. I didn’t tell him that, not until after we became lovers.’
Sofia was certain in her own mind that there was something deeper than met the eye in her grandmother’s unusual bequest. ‘You still haven’t explained why you suddenly decided to leave the island property just to me.’
‘To be honest, Sofia, I hadn’t considered the place on Tritinos until recently.’
‘Why was that?’
‘Because there were a lot of unpleasant memories attached to that house. My terrible rows with my parents before Peter and I were virtually thrown off the island, all were things still too painful to dwell on.’
‘What caused the sudden interest?’
‘A few weeks ago, I had visitors. You were out at the time. It was from a pair of lawyers. They were dressed in sharp suits, and they obviously believed they were dealing with a senile old woman. They told me they had been commissioned by a law firm in Athens that was working on behalf of a development consortium based in Acropoli. They presented me with a proposal on behalf of the development company, which basically meant they were prepared to offer me a small amount for what they termed a worthless piece of land. Although it was of no value to me, they said, it would be necessary as part of the village renewal scheme.’
‘What was your reaction?’
‘I listened to their idea, which seemed to comprise turning Galini into a resort that was part Benidorm and part Disney-style theme park. The problem they had in trying to pitch the plan to me is that they don’t know the layout of the village like I do. My parents’ house is in the centre of the bay and without it their scheme could not go ahead. Apart from that, the very thought of what they had in mind made me shudder with revulsion. They seemed to think this would be ideal for the tourist trade. I thanked them and told them the property was not for sale.’
‘Did you know anything about the deal before the lawyers came?’
‘No, I barely remembered that I own the place. It came to me, as is tradition, after my parents died, but at the time your grandfather was ill, so I didn’t pay any attention to it, and later, after he died, I had too many other things to deal with to bother about the land on Tritinos. I wasn’t interested, to be honest. There had been too much bad feeling for me to take any pleasure in the place. That is only my foolish pride, I suppose. But you would have no such burden, and I know you are unhappy here and that money is difficult. Your father would not be interested in the land. He is only concerned with his life in America, and has forgotten all about his roots, even his family, apart from the children he is having with his new wife. I thought the Galini house might be a good place for you to make a fresh start, and perhaps give me some great grandchildren, even though I will not be alive to see them. I want you to make me a promise, though, one that I need before I assign the property to you. It must be a solemn, binding one.’ She squeezed Sofia’s hand. ‘Will you give me your word that you will not sell the property, come what may?’
‘Of course I will. If that is your wish, I promise I will never sell it.’
Chapter Two
