Page 139 of Villa of Secrets

Naomi paused for a moment to recall the shocking car crash that took Papas Yiannis’s wife and daughter. Unexpectedly snatched away in one brutal minute. The tragedy left the priest’s granddaughter, Marina, strapped in the baby seat, virtually unscathed.

She remembered how Bubba helped at the funeral. Although reluctant to enter a Christian church, she had attended the service.

Sorting Papas Yiannis’s papers was difficult. Rhodes had been under Italian rule when the priest was born, and didn’t return to Greece until after the last war so, as Marina had noticed, many of his papers were in a language she didn’t understand. Lining them up in chronological order, she slowly unravelled the priest’s life.

He had entered the priesthood in 1948, his first parish located on the other side of the island, in the area of Lindos, where he had married and later had a daughter. He took over the parish of Paradissi the week before Naomi’s parents were married.

She lined the documents like a game of solitaire with one large stack for papers that didn’t apply to the priest, mostly belonging to parishioners with no next of kin. Halfway down the box, she took another handful and started dividing them out between the relevant piles. Naomi came across an old 1940 identity document, written in Italian, which again was quite normal as Rhodes belonged to Italy until 1947.

Nationality: Italian

Name: Giovanni Pastore

‘What!’ Naomi blinked at the name. ‘Giovanni . . .’ She stared at the photograph of the good-looking youth with a scar across his left eyebrow. She checked his date of birth and discovered him to be six months older than Bubba. Her mind raced. Why was the document in Papas Yiannis’s box? Then, with terrible sadness, she realised there was only one explanation: Giovanni Pastore had died.

Giovanni must have come back to Paradissi. Did he see his daughter, Sonia? Naomi was both excited and sad. Her hands trembled and she rushed through the documents looking for clues. Papers slid to the floor. She dived down to gather them up, wondering if Giovanni had seen her and Rebecca too. Maybe he discovered Sonia was his daughter? Perhaps when he heard she died so tragically, he decided to attend the memorial service which was held seven years later. She hoped he came back sooner. Naomi had so many questions and wondered who could answer them.

Naomi was eighteen and Rebecca, eight when Papas Yiannis organised the seventh-year memorial service for her parents. Their bodies were never recovered after the storm, so there was no funeral. For the memorial, she wore all black and cried in the church. Costa, then her boyfriend, stood beside her, awkward with the emotion. Bubba and the priest had comforted her, although Bubba was also visibly broken-hearted.

Naomi remembered there were some strangers in the church, but she didn’t recall anyone paying special attention to Bubba.

Did Bubba see Giovanni? Why didn’t he stay? Where did he go? Naomi wanted to stop everything and read the last diary. Surely it would answer her questions.

Bubba’s words came back to her. ‘The last diary is for later, another occasion.’ Then deep sadness fell over Naomi as she realised, once again, the priest would only have Giovanni’s identity document if Giovanni had died. Perhaps his death certificate was also among the papers. She continued to search, desperate to know more and hoping to have her questions answered.

Chapter 58

Naomi studied the sepia photograph of Giovanni, stuck in the top corner of the Italian ID. A handsome boy, as she imagined when reading the diaries. Although his black curly hair tumbled over his ears, the scar across his left eyebrow was clearly visible in the picture. The event at Seven Springs came back to her. The first time Dora killed someone, and the only reason she did it was to save a life, that of the young man she loved.

Naomi held the document to her cheek and whispered, ‘My grandfather, I wish I’d known you, Giovanni. You were hardly more than a boy, yet you were incredibly brave too. Prepared to give your own life, rather than disclose the whereabouts of the Andartes. I wonder what happened to you.’

The poignant moment was broken when the door opened and Heleny stuck her cheerful face into the room. She had been in and out all morning, and although Naomi realised Heleny was simply concerned and wanted to help, her constant interruptions and efforts to make her friend feel better were, in fact, driving Naomi insane.

‘For God’s sake, Heleny, not now!’ Naomi barked.

Heleny’s grin fell and she withdrew.

Instantly regretful, Naomi dropped Giovanni’s ID and dashed outside.

‘Heleny, sorry! Please come back!’ she called up the street.

Heleny returned with a basket of hot cheese pies.

‘Please, tell me you forgive me,’ Naomi said. ‘I don’t know what came over me, yelling at you like that. I’m ashamed of myself. I’m sorry, really sorry.’

Heleny nodded. ‘It’s the grief. Don’t worry about it. I thought you might not have time to cook, with all you have to deal with. So I baked these for you.’ She placed the mountain of small pastries on the table, her wild grin reduced to a nervous smile. ‘If you’re cramped for space, some of your family can sleep at mine.’

‘I’m overwhelmed. I’m sorry I snapped. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. It’s just, oh Heleny, I loved her so much. So many things I wish I’d said, places I could have taken her, times I could have shown her how I appreciated what she’d done – given up – for me and Rebecca. Now it’s too late and all I’m left with is terrible regret. I can’t imagine life without her. It’s as if she’s taken part of me with her. I’m in pieces. Why wasn’t I more considerate?’ She realised she was crying now, and she had never felt so miserable.

‘Shush! Enjoy the pies.’

Naomi looked up and smiled. Trust Heleny to think food was the answer to everything.

Heleny gave her a hug, then glanced over the papers spread across the table top. ‘Not very organised, was he?’ She picked up Giovanni’s ID. ‘Such a sad loss,’ she said.

Naomi’s jaw dropped and she blinked away her tears. ‘You knew him?’

Heleny shrugged. ‘As well as anybody, I guess.’ She scanned documents and picked one up. ‘Here’s the one you want.’ She passed Papas Yiannis’s ID card to Naomi.