Aphrodite’s Smile

‘But it does take work, and commitment, I think. You have those qualities in common with your father at least. Will you be staying on Ithaca long?’

‘I’m afraid not. I’ll be leaving after the funeral.’

‘Then I hope you get to see some of our wonderful scenery before you return. As I’m sure you know, there are some beautiful beaches where it is pleasant to swim. And unlike our neighbour, Kephalonia, most of them remain unspoilt by crowds of holiday-makers.’

That much we agreed on, and I told him that I had been to Polis Bay that day.

‘Ah. You know about the cave there? It is very famous.’

‘Yes, I read about it.’

‘Did you also know that there is a sunken city in the bay? It was called Jerusalem. It is believed to be the remains of a town that sank during an earthquake centuries ago. There are some amphorae on display in your father’s museum that were recovered from the sea-bed. Have you visited there yet?’

‘Not on this trip,’ I admitted.

‘You should. There are some remarkable finds from an excavation he made at Platrithias several years ago. It was his last excavation in fact.’

Kounidis seemed to be knowledgeable about Ithaca’s past and I wondered if he knew as much about the island’s more recent history. It occurred to me that he might know something about Alex’s grandmother and I mentioned that I had gone to Exoghi that afternoon.

‘Ah yes, the views from there are excellent. Did you go inside the church? There are some wonderful examples of religious icons.’

‘I’m afraid not. Actually I gave a lift to a girl I met whose scooter had broken down. She wanted to see the house where her grandmother was born.’

‘A local girl?’ Irene asked.

‘Actually no, she’s from London, but her grandmother came from Ithaca.’

‘What was her name?’ Irene asked. ‘Perhaps I know her family.’

‘Zannas, I think she said.’

‘Julia Zannas?’ Irene and Kounidis exchanged quick glances.

‘Do you know the name?’

‘Yes,’ Kounidis said. ‘I am afraid that many people on Ithaca know the name of Julia Zannas. Though perhaps not so much the young. You say this girl that you met is her granddaughter?’

‘Yes. Her grandmother died last year. She wants to find out more about the Greek side of her family. From what she told me it was a bit of a taboo subject when she was growing up.’

‘I can imagine that it might be so. If you see her again, Robert, you should advise her to be careful who she speaks to. For some people the past is never forgotten.’

I was reminded of the old man we had seen in the village. I told them what had happened and about Alex’s resemblance to her grandmother.

‘As you see, Robert, it might be better for your friend not to go back there.’

‘She told me that her grandmother was involved with a German soldier. But surely nobody would hold that against Alex. Especially after all this time.’

‘Do not be so sure. For some people the name Julia Zannas brings back unpleasant memories. Many of them blame her for the deaths of members of their families during the war.’

‘Why? What did she do?’

‘It is a long story,’ Kounidis said, ‘and an old one, as you say.’

I gathered that he was reluctant to repeat it, and when he changed the subject I didn’t press the matter. He and Irene became involved in a discussion about her business and were soon talking about the company that handled her distribution, and how best she could address a problem she was having. They spoke in English out of deference to me, and it was interesting to note that Kounidis seemed well connected. He offered to speak to various officials both on Ithaca and elsewhere on Irene’s behalf.

Eventually he rose to leave and again he shook my hand. He invited me to visit him at his house near the town of Kioni before I left.

‘If you have the time, of course. My housekeeper is an excellent cook. I think I can promise you a good lunch,’ he said.

I thanked him and said I’d do my best.

‘Irene will give you my phone number.’

Irene walked with him to his car and when she returned I remarked that Kounidis seemed an interesting man.

‘And a very good friend, yes. I did not exaggerate before when I told you that he helped your father a great deal.’

‘It sounds as if he can help you too.’

‘Alkimos knows many people and he is very well respected.’

‘Because of his business days?’

‘Yes, but also because as a young man he was involved with the Resistance during the war. He was captured by the Germans. That is why he did not wish to talk about what happened. Although your father asked him about it many times.’

‘My father? Why was he interested?’

‘Do you remember we spoke of the Panaghia? Alkimos tried to help your father find the German ship that sank during the war.’

‘The Antounnetta?’

‘Yes. In fact the story of what happened involves your friend’s grandmother, Julia Zannas.’

The coincidence surprised me. I had a sudden sense of events in time colliding gently, nudging one another like great shifting plates in some impenetrable machinery.

That night after we had eaten dinner Irene excused herself, saying that she had some work to do.

‘Why don’t you go into the town? It would be good for you to be among people,’ she suggested.

I decided that she was right, but as I negotiated the dark twisting bends of the Perahori road I found myself thinking about Alex. I drove past the house where she was staying, but I could see from the road that there were no lights in her room so I continued on into town. I had no particular idea about where I was going so I parked the Jeep near the square and strolled among the cafés and restaurants looking for a spare table. There weren’t any, so I explored some of the side-streets away from the waterfront that I knew wouldn’t be so busy. I found a small taverna with a scattering of tables outside. The place was filled with men, mostly locals, drinking and smoking cigarettes. The air was blue with smoke, so I sat outside and when somebody eventually appeared to take my order, I asked for a beer.

For a while I watched the flow of people, a few making last-minute purchases before the shops closed for the night. Across the street there was a travel agent and next door to it a shop selling magazines and books. The owner was dragging a rack of magazines inside, the covers of which featured pictures of naked women. It always surprised me that in a country with such a strong religious tradition, soft porn was openly displayed on every street corner alongside icons of the Virgin Mary and the myriad saints that are revered in Greece.

Further along the street a group of young men wearing the ubiquitous Greek uniform of tight jeans and T-shirts chatted among themselves and smoked cigarettes, openly staring at any woman who walked past. It was another paradox of daily life there that had any of them witnessed a stranger ogling their own sister or girlfriend the way they did other women the consequences would undoubtedly have been violent.