The Unspeakable Acts of Zina Pavlou by Eleni Kyriacou

Author:Eleni Kyriacou [Kyriacou, Eleni]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781837930326
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

14 July 1954, two weeks before the murder

It was a week later and, as Zina walked through the back door into the kitchen, she immediately knew something was very wrong. For a start, Michalis was at the table, in his shirtsleeves, holding Hedy’s hand.

‘It’s gone seven,’ said Zina, putting her shopping on the table. ‘Won’t you be late?’

‘I’ve got tonight off.’

She sniffed the air. ‘Dinner not on?’

Hedy stubbed out her cigarette and shifted in her seat. She was wearing that headscarf again, the one she’d barely taken off all week. Zina picked up the full ashtray, placed it in the sink and started unpacking groceries.

‘Shall I make some fasolaki?’ she asked. ‘It won’t take long. And everyone likes that. Anna was saying—’

‘Sit down, Mamma,’ said Michalis. ‘We need to talk to you.’

‘But dinner’s not on and I can listen while—’

‘Please.’ The chair scraped the floor as he pulled it out. ‘Sit. It’s important.’

She shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of the door, while she said a silent prayer that they wouldn’t mention what had happened that day. The shame she felt, seeing them both like that, acting like animals, weighed heavy on her. She was embarrassed for herself but more for them, being caught. Best if she started, apologised again, headed them off.

‘Now you know I said I was very sorry,’ she said, ‘about last week. What happened. But,’ she sat down and drew herself up straight, ‘if you’re going to do that maybe you should lock the door – and the baby shouldn’t really see those kind of things. No wonder he was distressed. If you—’

‘Mamma.’ He put his hand on her arm, to stop her mid-flow. ‘It’s not about the other day. Let me speak, would you?’

‘Oh.’

‘We need to tell you something.’

She glanced at Hedy, who had her face turned away as she took another cigarette from the pack and Michalis lit it for her and took one himself. Then he stood behind her chair, a hand on her shoulder.

‘We went to the doctor’s today,’ he said.

‘Why? What’s wrong?’ asked Zina.

‘It wasn’t for me. It was for Hedy.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Zina. Then, addressing her directly, in English, ‘You ill?’

‘It’s her nerves,’ said Michalis, as though Hedy was mute.

‘Nerves?’ Zina gave a little laugh. ‘What do you mean, her nerves?’ That girl had such an easy life.

‘She’s nervous and worried all the time,’ said Michalis. He blew smoke to one side. ‘The doctor says that’s why she can’t sleep and isn’t eating. It’s affecting her health.’

‘Tell her she has to eat,’ said Zina, smiling at Hedy, and noticing how dull her skin looked. ‘Life is full of worries. We all have worries.’

‘He says,’ cut in Michalis, ‘that it has to change – we have to do something to help her get better.’

He paused, glancing around the table for the ashtray, and took a saucer instead. He extinguished his cigarette with unnecessary force, although he’d only just lit it, making the saucer spin for a few seconds.

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