money from the till. But as time passed there seemed to be less and less money in the till and more and more unpaid bills. Stella began to wonder where the money went. Slowly she began to take notice, then she started to do the maths.
After they were married and had settled down with his parents in his home town, Stavros and his Baba would often get together to play cards. The mood was jolly. Stavros ’ Mama rustled up plates of food. With the shutters closed they would settle into a night of joking and fun. The men would laugh and Stavros’ mother would prepare coffees and chasers. Sometimes they would stay up so late Stella would go to bed and wake in the morning to find Stavros’ Mama asleep where she had sat the night before in one of the chairs.
Sometime Stavros would go out and play cards with his friends. Not often, but when he did he would not come home until very late and would be grumpy for several days, or elated, and his wallet would close or open correspondingly. His Baba laughed and slapped him on the back either way. His Mama was given a handful of drachmas when he won.
His card-playing away from home increased as time passed and Stella continued not to conceive. She had had tests done. It w asn’t her. Stavros had refused to believe it was him; it was too big a knock to his self-image. He said less and played more. His mama said it was God’s will and who are we to question what God decides? He would have his own reasons beyond our comprehension, He could see all.
Stella nips behind the grill to see how Abby is doing.
‘Alright?’ she asks. Abby starts. Stella wonders why she has her bag over her shoulders. It looks heavy and it cannot be easy to work like that. ‘Do you want to hang your bag here?’ She takes some coats that have been left for as long as she can remember off a peg on the wall at the grill end. Abby looks around for somewhere to dry her hands. Stella steps forwards and lifts the bag from over her head, being careful not to mess her hair or touch her wet hands.
‘ Thank you. Erm, can I ask what the pay is, please. I need to make plans to get to this job. I promised to be there …’ Abby blushes.
Stella takes a breath. ‘Today we try you. Tomorrow we pay you when we see how much more we make. OK?’ It doesn’t even sound ok to Stella. She feels her own cheeks grow hot.
‘ A trial?’ Abby asks.
Chapter 5
The grill spits and hisses. Stella leaves Abby ’s question unanswered to attend to it. The tongs grip the chicken’s legs and the splayed bird flips awkwardly onto its back.
‘ Why are you making this so hard?’ Stavros hisses in Greek. He flicks his cigarette end into the gutter before entering the ouzeri .
Stella throws the spatula onto the counter and turns to face him.
‘Now what have I made difficult?’
‘ Vasso, she tells me she has already said the girl can sleep at her house.’
‘ We do not have money to pay Vasso for somewhere for the girl to sleep and the girl cannot pay because we are not paying her.’ Her hand on her hips.
‘ Well, it’s done, it’s agreed, tonight she sleeps at Vasso’s on trial. If she stays, she pays.’ He takes out another cigarette.
Stella sighs. It feels like they are dividing Abby up between them like a roasted goat. The poor girl should be on a boat to Saros, to a real job, a teenage r’s job, a bar, life, young people, not stuck in this village to serve old farmers.
Stavros sits inside on one of the wooden chairs and puts his feet up on one of the tables to read his newspaper.
‘Abby.’ Stella goes behind the grill. ‘I must be true.’ She is sure that she is not using the right word in English, perhaps honest would be a better word, but she goes on. ‘We do not have the money to pay you to work. If tomorrow we make more money because the farmers like your pretty face then we can pay you. So it is a trial for us both. Vasso, that is the woman from the kiosk, she has a room for you. If you stay, after
After they were married and had settled down with his parents in his home town, Stavros and his Baba would often get together to play cards. The mood was jolly. Stavros ’ Mama rustled up plates of food. With the shutters closed they would settle into a night of joking and fun. The men would laugh and Stavros’ mother would prepare coffees and chasers. Sometimes they would stay up so late Stella would go to bed and wake in the morning to find Stavros’ Mama asleep where she had sat the night before in one of the chairs.
Sometime Stavros would go out and play cards with his friends. Not often, but when he did he would not come home until very late and would be grumpy for several days, or elated, and his wallet would close or open correspondingly. His Baba laughed and slapped him on the back either way. His Mama was given a handful of drachmas when he won.
His card-playing away from home increased as time passed and Stella continued not to conceive. She had had tests done. It w asn’t her. Stavros had refused to believe it was him; it was too big a knock to his self-image. He said less and played more. His mama said it was God’s will and who are we to question what God decides? He would have his own reasons beyond our comprehension, He could see all.
Stella nips behind the grill to see how Abby is doing.
‘Alright?’ she asks. Abby starts. Stella wonders why she has her bag over her shoulders. It looks heavy and it cannot be easy to work like that. ‘Do you want to hang your bag here?’ She takes some coats that have been left for as long as she can remember off a peg on the wall at the grill end. Abby looks around for somewhere to dry her hands. Stella steps forwards and lifts the bag from over her head, being careful not to mess her hair or touch her wet hands.
‘ Thank you. Erm, can I ask what the pay is, please. I need to make plans to get to this job. I promised to be there …’ Abby blushes.
Stella takes a breath. ‘Today we try you. Tomorrow we pay you when we see how much more we make. OK?’ It doesn’t even sound ok to Stella. She feels her own cheeks grow hot.
‘ A trial?’ Abby asks.
Chapter 5
The grill spits and hisses. Stella leaves Abby ’s question unanswered to attend to it. The tongs grip the chicken’s legs and the splayed bird flips awkwardly onto its back.
‘ Why are you making this so hard?’ Stavros hisses in Greek. He flicks his cigarette end into the gutter before entering the ouzeri .
Stella throws the spatula onto the counter and turns to face him.
‘Now what have I made difficult?’
‘ Vasso, she tells me she has already said the girl can sleep at her house.’
‘ We do not have money to pay Vasso for somewhere for the girl to sleep and the girl cannot pay because we are not paying her.’ Her hand on her hips.
‘ Well, it’s done, it’s agreed, tonight she sleeps at Vasso’s on trial. If she stays, she pays.’ He takes out another cigarette.
Stella sighs. It feels like they are dividing Abby up between them like a roasted goat. The poor girl should be on a boat to Saros, to a real job, a teenage r’s job, a bar, life, young people, not stuck in this village to serve old farmers.
Stavros sits inside on one of the wooden chairs and puts his feet up on one of the tables to read his newspaper.
‘Abby.’ Stella goes behind the grill. ‘I must be true.’ She is sure that she is not using the right word in English, perhaps honest would be a better word, but she goes on. ‘We do not have the money to pay you to work. If tomorrow we make more money because the farmers like your pretty face then we can pay you. So it is a trial for us both. Vasso, that is the woman from the kiosk, she has a room for you. If you stay, after
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