“Éla,” Andreas replied, “they are only doing what they must do to survive.”
That, at least, she could relate to.
“I was going to ask you about this,” she said, gesturing to a large white concrete block that was situated not far from her boundary wall.
“Ah, yes.” Andreas moved toward it. “This is protecting your power cables. Each of the houses has one. Without them, there would be no electricity.”
“Did you put them in?” she asked, but he shook his head.
“This is not my area of expertise. The power and the water were done by a separate company hired by the municipality. Stamatis and me, we helped to dig the trenches for the pipes and removed some of the old materials, then we installed the bathrooms.”
“All of them?”
“In five of the houses,nai. It was a big job, because at the time of the war, when the homes here were abandoned, the facilities inside were very basic.”
“I did wonder why the bathroom was so neatly finished,” Skye said.
Andreas brushed a fly off her arm.
“There was not much of a budget given to us,” he said. “We did the best that we could, but if you wanted to change anything…”
“No,” she assured him. “I don’t mind the plain white at all, and Joy was thrilled with hers. She has grand plans to paint motifs on the tiles.”
Her coffee had cooled, the milk leaving an oily sheen across its surface. Skye tossed what was left in her cup across the ground, watching as the liquid seeped through the dry earth.
“I suppose we’d better do the inside next,” she said. “I’ve started making a list, but—” She paused as Andreas produced a slim notebook from the pocket of his coveralls and the stub of a pencil from behind one ear. “It looks as if you had the same idea?”
He showed her the page, but the scribbled words were Greek and thus indecipherable.
“Do either of those things say ‘new floorboards’ or ‘replastering’?” she asked.
Andreas chuckled.
“Unfortunately, yes, they do.”
When they reached the front door, Skye had to shoulder it open.
“I can fix this for you today,” Andreas said, running a hand around the wooden edges, which were warped and misshapen. “I have the tools in my truck.”
“I thought I might have a go at scraping the rest of the paint off,” Skye told him as a confetti-toss of blue flakes floated down onto the floor. “Although maybe I should concentrate on the bigger stuff first.”
“I think it is better to wait,” he agreed. “When the replastering work is done on the outside of the house, there will be a lot of dust, a lot of mess.”
The stone floor of her main living area was not, according to Andreas, in a bad state, considering its age. When Skye tentatively asked how much it would cost to lay terra-cotta tiles throughout, he tapped his pencil against the edge of his notepad, murmuring sums under his breath.
“The space inside is around thirty square meters, so with materials and labor, it would not be too much, perhaps one thousand or twelve hundred euros.”
“That seems reasonable,” she said. “What about upstairs? I’d ideally like to redo both bedrooms and the attic.”
“Wood or tile?” he asked.
“Wood,” Skye replied. Then, seeing his forehead crease into a frown: “Is that not the best option?”
“It is the most-expensive option. You can get some cheaper types of boarding, but it is better to use oak or pine, something strong and durable.”
Skye mulled this over as they continued through the house, listening as Andreas explained about limestone plastering, woodworm, and the fortunate lack of subsidence.
“Many of the buildings on Folegandros become damaged by earthquakes,” he told her. “You are lucky to have won a house with good foundations.”
