Page 20 of Villa of Secrets

Naomi swished her hand through a knee-high pot of basil, closed her eyes, and inhaled the minty-liquorice scent. Her mother taught her to do the same after cleaning shellfish, to remove the stench of fish from her hands and clothes.

Despite her financial difficulties, her sick grandmother, her darling boys residing in distant Cyprus, her husband away on a floating palace with the rich and lonely, and her estranged sister not speaking to her, Naomi found it hard to imagine anything but peace and tranquillity in the narrow street of Spartili, in Paradissi Village.

Apart from a few years spent at Heraklion’s University Hospital in Crete where she studied nursing, Naomi had lived her entire life in the little house. Memories of Crete came tumbling back. Costa was heading to Heraklion now, waiting on passengers in the cruiser’s fine-dining room.

Naomi closed her eyes and evoked the city. Lion Square with its magnificent fountain, bustling coffee shops and tavernas, The Venetian castle on the long sea wall that dog-legged into the Aegean Sea. Cardiac Avenue, as they called the harbour wall at the hospital, because every patient with a heart problem was ordered to walk to the end and back once a day.

After her first schoolgirl kiss, Naomi hardly saw Costa. Then, as if fate was waiting for the right moment, she came across him in Crete, Lion Square, on New Year’s Eve. She’d gone with a gaggle of student nurses, drinking and dancing at the public party in the city centre. As church bells chimed midnight, people leapt into the fountain. Someone grabbed her hand and said, ‘Come on, Naomi. Let’s do it!’ They jumped in together and, under a torrent of water at midnight, she and Costa kissed.

‘Make a wish,’ Costa said, and then he kissed her again.

Two days later, they had their first date. Costa, who studied at Heraklion’s Hotel Leisure and Tourism College, took her to Knossos archaeological site. Thrilled by the ruins of the Minoan palace, she gazed at dark red pillars, sacred bull horns, and colourful frescoes. He entranced her with stories of King Minos, the Labyrinth, and the Minotaur.

They had been together ever since.

With a smile on her lips, Naomi opened the diary and started reading.

Tuesday, 18 July 1944

Because I am sixteen, I have new responsibilities. My mother says that at first light I’m to go up the mountain of Filerimos with Evangelisa and Irini to collect our flock from the shepherd, and herd them to our pen behind the convent so the sheep can be shorn.

I’ve done this job before with my brothers. When I say, ‘done this job’ I actually mean that I took a book and let the boys do the work. This time Danial was supposed to come with us, but he must have a tooth out. Samuel has to help Father in the shop, and Jacob has a violin lesson. The shearer won’t wait another day. If I’d known herding would be my job at some point, I would have paid more attention. Evangelisa’s worried we can’t do it, but I convinced her (and myself) we can.

I am actually looking forward to the challenge. It’s a chance for me to prove myself as an adult and I’m determined to do a good job.

Irini arrived with long staffs of mulberry for guiding the sheep. We have a seven-kilometre walk to the shepherd, and five more to our pen. Papa has a wooden hut next to the sheep fold where we’ll sleep for three nights, while the shearer does his job.

Danial will come on horseback later to drive the flock back. I’m pretending to be full of confidence for the sake of Mama, whose legs are swollen and painful, and also to stop Evangelisa fretting.

Papa says we should set out before sunrise, so I must stop writing now. I’ve packed a bag with a change of clothes, some rusks and honey, and I’ll take my writing things of course.

I just peeked out of my bedroom window, which overlooks the square. The choir’s gathering. I saw the Curly Haired Boy peer at the shop. He’s really dreamy. I wanted to open my window and wave, but I ducked behind the curtain instead.

That’s when I thought, Why can’t I be bolder? At that moment I made my birthday wish.

I wish I was really, really courageous!

A spark of bravery seemed to ignite and grow inside me right then and there. I lifted my hand to wave, stuck on a smile, and stepped into the centre of the window.

The Curly Haired Boy had turned away, but his friend, Carlo, who Irini adores, saw me and waved back. Pure embarrassment! I yanked the curtain closed.

Wednesday, 19 July 1944

I begged Evangelisa to stop fretting. We’d be fine. Papa told us there was no time for breakfast, we should take the boiled eggs and bread to eat later. He seemed anxious. I hoped he wasn’t having second thoughts about putting me in charge.

We slung our bags on our backs, grasped our mulberry staffs, and said goodbye to everyone. The sun rose over the horizon. Yellow light sliced between dark pines and threw broad stripes across the Mount Filerimos road. The air smelled rich and damp and wonderful.

After walking the steady slope for an hour, we came to a roadside spring and stopped to drink cold mountain water. We sat on the lower branch of a wind-bent pine. I wanted to write in my diary, but Irini and Evangelisa kept bobbing up and down and laughing at me, so I gave up.

Irini threw me a smile, then turned to my sister. ‘Let’s collect pine nuts. Look, I’ll show you how,’ she said, jumping down. She picked up a fat, newly fallen cone and cracked it open with a stone, then she popped the kernel into Evangelisa’s mouth. ‘Tasty, hey? You’ll find two under each scale, Lisa. Mind your fingers now.’

Evangelisa hopped off the bough, which swung a little higher. Irini glanced my way again, her wonderful smile wide and her eyes bright in the dappled light. Something passed between us that made me warm in the pit of my stomach, and I found myself squirming with pleasure against the rough branch. I wished Irini was my sister.

Thursday, 20 July 1944

Danial didn’t turn up yesterday, which is a problem because Evangelisa’s shoe has come away from the sole. My parents are proud that we’ve never gone barefoot, but it’s made our feet tender and walking any distance is impossible for Evangelisa. I have no choice but to trek home and get my old shoes for her. I’ll take my diary and update it as soon as I have an opportunity.

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