Chapter Text
PROLOG
The car from Heraklion had set me down where the track for Agios Georgios leaves the road. I got out, adjusted on my shoulder the big bag of embroidered canvas that did double-duty as a haversack, then turned to thank the American couple for the lift.
“Only too happy, my dear.” Mrs. Studebaker peered, rather anxiously, out of the car window. “But are you quite sure you’re all right? I don’t like putting you down like this, in the middle of nowhere. You’re sure this is the correct place? What does that sign post say?”
The signpost, when consulted, said, not helpfully, ‘AT TEOPTIOE’.
“Well, my goodness! What does that mean?” said Mrs. Studebaker. “Honestly my dear — ”
“It’s all right,” I said, laughing. “That says ‘Agios Georgios,’ and, according to your driver — and the map — the village is about three-quarters of a kilometer away, down this path. Once round that bit of cliff down there, I’ll probably be able to see it.”
“I certainly hope so, don’t you know.” Mr. Studebaker had got out of the car when I did, and was now supervising the driver as he lifted my one small case from the trunk, and set it beside me at the edge of the road. Mr. Studebaker was large and pink and sweet-tempered and wore an orange shirt outside his pearl-grey drill trousers, and a wide, floppy linen hat. I made their acquaintance at my hotel only the evening before and, as soon as they heard that I was making for the southern coast of Crete, nothing would content them but that I should join them for part of their hired tour of the island.
“Confound it, I don’t like it!” Mr. Studebaker was anxiously regarding the stony little path which wound gently downhill from the road, between rocky slopes studded with scrub and dwarf juniper. “I just don’t like leaving you here alone young woman. Why —” he turned earnest, kindly brown eyes on me — “I read a book about Crete, just before Mother and I came over, and believe me, Miss Ferris, they have some customs here, still, that you just wouldn’t believe. In some ways, according to this book, Greece is still a very, very primitive country.”
I laughed. “Perhaps. But one of the primitive customs is that a stranger’s well-being is sacred. Even in Crete, nobody’s going to murder a visitor! Don’t worry about me, really. It’s sweet of you, but I’ll be quite all right. I told you, I’ve lived in Greece for more than a year now. I speak Greek pretty well and I’ve been to Crete before. So you can leave me quite safely. This is certainly the right place and I’ll be down in the village in twenty minutes. The hotel’s not expecting me till tomorrow but I know they’ve nobody else there, so I’ll get a bed.”
“But luv, this cousin of yours that should have come with you? You’re sure she’ll show up?”
“Yes, quite sure.” Mrs. Studebaker was looking so anxious that I explained again. “She was delayed, and missed the flight, but she told me not to wait for her, and I left a message. Even if she misses tomorrow’s bus, she’ll get a car or something. She’s very capable.” I smiled. “She was anxious for me not to waste any of my holiday hanging around waiting for her, so she’ll be as grateful to you as I am, for giving me an extra day.”
“Well, if you’re quite sure…”
“I’m quite sure. Now, don’t let me keep you anymore. It was wonderful to get a lift this far. If I’d waited for the bus tomorrow, it would have taken the whole day to get here.” I smiled, and held out my hand. “And still I’d have been dumped right here! So you see, you have given me a whole extra day’s holiday, besides the run, which was marvelous. Thank you again.”
Eventually, reassured, they drove off. The car gathered way slowly up the cement-hard mud of the hill road, bumping and swaying over the ruts which marbled the course of winter’s overspills of the mountain rain. It churned its way up round a steep bend, and bore away inland. The dust of its wake hung thickly, until the breeze slowly dispersed it.
I stood there beside my suitcase, and looked out at the vast view before me.
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