The Flow Page 2
Sofia chuckled at the thought and left her bag and the envelope on a kitchen chair, then opened the fridge to take out her mother’s delicious pasticcio. Good, it’s a big container. I can always have two pieces.
Ten minutes later, after warming it up in a pan on top of the stove, she was sitting at the table eating and reading her friend’s letter at the same time.
Vassilaki, 10th of December 1987
Dear Sofia,
Hello! How’s life in Athens? Hope the studying isn't too hard! So sorry I disappeared for a while. Time passes so fast. I still cannot believe it’s been three whole months since you left Corfu. I miss you.
You asked in your last letter how the English lessons are going. They are going very well; much better than before and at very little cost these days! Why is that, I hear you ask? Well, you won't believe it when I tell you. As you know, I’ve been going to the village of Benitses three times a week for my private English classes, but one day, I was at the bus stop and whom should I meet but Sarah, Jimmy’s English wife!
She was going to Corfu town clothes shopping as she had a christening to go to and needed a new dress, but anyway, I digress! We sat together on the bus, and she asked where I was going so I wound up telling her all about Steve. I told her I need to learn English fast, as he’s asked me to move to England to be with him next year. Well, Sofia, you wouldn’t believe her reaction! She became so touched that she offered to be my teacher from now on. Also, she insisted to give me the lessons free of charge!
I spoke to my mother and we agreed I could switch to Sarah, but we were adamant we should pay for the tuition, so she settled to charge me half of what I’d been paying in Benitses. So now, for the past two weeks, she’s been teaching me and I’m enjoying it a lot. She also helps with my correspondence with Steve. When he phones at home now, we’re able to talk more and more without many awkward pauses. Next summer when you come you’ll be very proud to hear me speak English.
I’ve left the best news for last. Steve wrote he’ll come again this summer to visit me, and I can't wait! And then, in autumn I’ll be moving to England, as you know. It’s all happening so fast that sometimes I feel like I’m dreaming. I never thought it possible to feel so much happiness, and all this, because of love. I sincerely hope this happens for you too soon, my dear Sofia!
Enough of me though, how are things with you and Danny? Last time you wrote you said he’d sent you another tape with all his favourite songs. I bet you’re listening to it non-stop! Are you sending him anything for Christmas? Knowing you and your great reserve, you’ll probably send him just a card, but it won't hurt to buy him a little present. A pair of gloves perhaps, or a bobble hat for the chilly English weather? Just an idea. You may think women are more sensitive than men, and although I used to believe that too, now I’ve met Steve I know for a fact not all men are pigs - ha ha!
Sofia, the truth is, they can be sensitive and insecure just like us girls. If Danny hasn’t said anything to you yet, maybe it means he needs a little push, that’s all. Can you imagine what it would be like if he was the same as you? Waiting for you to take the first step? Wouldn’t it be disastrous then if you never got together? Think about it. You know I love you and you’re my best friend. I would never give you bad advice!
Write soon, miss you lots,
Loula xxx
A few days later, despite her heavy attendance schedule at University, Sofia managed to pen a reply to her friend.
Athens, December 20th 1987
Dear Loula,
Hello, how are you? I was so happy to hear your news! How nice of Sarah to do this for you. She probably saw her young self in you, having fallen in love with a handsome foreigner too, enough to move to a faraway country, just for love. I hope it works out for you and Steve just like it has for Sarah and Jimmy. You guys deserve all the happiness you can get!
As for me, I took your advice and sent a mixed tape to Danny. I posted it just the other day so I guess it counts as a Christmas present. I made sure to include a lot of his dance favourites, Stock, Aitken and Waterman tunes and Michael Jackson hits included. Other than that, still nothing earth-shattering to report about Danny. If he has any feelings for me, he sure is reluctant to give me any serious hints. Having said that, he has at least now mentioned he fancies me! Earlier on, I had sent him a picture of me from last summer. I was standing on the pier in my swimsuit. He wrote back in his last letter to say I have the best legs he has ever seen and that I am ‘drop dead sexy’. I had never heard this expression before, and I was overwhelmed by the compliment.
He still works at the little café in Helmston but he’s not happy there. He said he was going to apply for a canteen position at a ferry company. Its vessels travel back and forth across the English Channel. If he gets it he’ll have to move to Dover. I’ve located it on the map, and it doesn’t seem to be too far from Brighton or London. When I go to England for my Master’s Degree next year, it should be easy enough to meet up with him.
Oh, my heart leaps just thinking about it . . . It’s been just a few months since he left and he has already managed to write four times. First he sent the photo of us together, then the tapes, and now he’s also expressed a compliment about my looks. Maybe he is slowly starting to open up to me, what do you think? I have this crazy idea that he may come and visit me again in Corfu this summer, just like Steve plans to do for you. Who knows?
Have you seen Akis at all? Any news from Tracey? Poor girl; she’s probably given up on that cruel cousin of mine by now. Why do men have to be so insensitive with our feelings, huh?
Have a wonderful Christmas and give my love to Steve, to your mother, and to everyone else in the village who asks after me.
Lots of love,
Sofia xxx
Chapter 4
Sofia’s mother poked her head around the door and gave a breezy smile. “A letter for you, agape mou. It’s from your English friend.”
Sofia’s eyes glazed over for a second, and then she sprang up from her bed as if electricity had hit her. She’d been lounging in her room for a good hour, just reading a book. The long Christmas break was drawing to an end. She’d done a fair bit of studying and was confident about the forthcoming exam season of next month. In a way, she was glad for it; it meant she’d have less time to sit around and dream of Danny all day for a while.
He’d been quiet since November. In his last letter he had talked endlessly about ‘the mother of all storms’ that had turned Sussex into a disaster area. He’d even said he had a near miss when he was driving on his way home from work. A tree fell in the street a few feet away from his car bumper.
It’d been very scary just thinking how easily he could have been hurt. The thought still brought shivers down her spine. The fact he’d come out unscathed had been all she had to keep her happy throughout the holiday season. He’d been quiet all through and of course, although she had asked and acquired his telephone number at home, her pride never allowed her to give him a call and say as much as ‘Happy Christmas’.
But now, as she hopped over to the door to snatch the envelope from her mother’s hand in a swift, joyful gesture, all her frustration had already been forgotten, his long silence forgiven.
Her mother gave a sheepish grin and closed the door behind her. She didn’t seem to mind her daughter corresponding with a foreign boy she didn’t even know. She hadn’t even asked her for more information. Sofia wondered if her father knew but guessed that just like her grandmother back in Vassilaki, her mother had probably decided to keep the secret from the men in the family.
As she tore the envelope open, Sofia threw a cursory glance at the closed door and spared a thought for her mother. I’m so glad mum is discreet. I couldn’t bear talking about Danny right now. Nothing exciting to tell anyway, unless . . . unless the key to my happiness awaits me in this very letter!
The thought alone was enough to make her throat constrict with feeling. The anticipation ached in her gut, as she opened
the single sheet of paper in one deft move. She held her breath and her eyes began to wander along the page like a car on a crazy ride. She read the whole thing in a matter of seconds. It was no wonder that by the time she registered the last line, she felt like a car wreck for it too.
Sussex, January 2nd 1988
Hello, gorgeous!
Yo! Happy New Year! I hope you’ve enjoyed the holiday season with lots of partying and handsome boys! I’m sorry it took so long to write, but you know how it goes. When a man has his arms draped around two ladies at a time, it doesn’t leave him a free hand to write letters. And that mistletoe has been hanging overhead for too long, it’s been disrupting! I got chapped lips - I rest my case - ha ha
Anyway, seriously now, not much else is new. Now that the partying is over, life is boring again. I’m back at the dreary job, serving and delivering sandwiches all day. People have died from less boredom so it’s becoming imperative to get a new job soon but sadly, I’m still looking. The ferry company wrote me a kind letter but didn’t wish to call me for an interview. I guess I’ll just have to keep looking.
Loved your tape, thanks a lot! You have good taste in music.
Anyway, back to the chain gang and the whip can be painful, so I’d better go.
Hopefully life will be brighter by the time I write next, so my following letter won't be so dull.
Ta-ta for now,
Danny xxxx
Sofia’s heart sank. Her stomach clenched and started to burn, then the pain erupted, mushrooming violently inside her core. Hot tears escaped from her eyes, releasing her pain along with desperate sobs. How can he be so cruel?
She plonked herself down on the bed and buried her face in the pillow. The tears kept flowing for a good while until she willed herself to sit up. She got a tissue from her bag and wiped her face dry. Then, she returned to her bed and perched herself on its edge, deep in contemplation. The discarded letter seemed to her as if it mocked her from the pillow. One of its edges was scrunched up from the intensity of her grasp earlier; the paper damp in many places from her free-flowing tears.
Enough! Love cannot be right if it hurts so much! I have to let him know how this feels. Then it’s up to him . . . She went to her writing desk, took a sheet of blank paper from a folder and started to write.
Athens, January 6th 1988
Hello Danny,
I’m still shocked from reading your letter. Who do you think I am? Of course I haven’t been partying with handsome boys! And if you’ve been going out and kissing lots of girls, do you think it’s appropriate to tell me all about it? To think I had feelings for you! What an arrogant, self-centered boy you must be! You led me on, told me you wanted me to come to England, and I thought we had something special. And yet, the kindest thing you’ve said to me was how sexy you think I am! Sexy? Is that all? Can you see further from the hot legs and the pretty face? Have you bothered to look under the skin, Danny? Where it really matters? Where my heart has been beating for you?
I won't tell you more because you clearly don’t deserve it, but I’m sure you’ll be all right! You have your multitude of girls to fall back on, don’t you? And before I go, a word of advice, Danny: do you wonder why you’re still stuck in this job you hate? Do you want to know why I think the ferry company didn’t employ you? It’s because you’re lacking something: an education! Why do you think I study in Athens University and plan to get a Master’s Degree in your country too? To make something of yourself it takes to strive in your youth and to educate yourself. All you’ve been doing is settling for less. That’s why you are stuck in a tiny café in a dreary job as you call it. Everything we want in life takes work, Danny!
I don’t expect to hear from you again but know that I don’t regret meeting you. You’ve shown me a life I didn’t know existed. No, I don’t have much fun in my life like you do. And perhaps this is why I am always far too serious or self-conscious to ever make sense to you. Still, I will always cherish the hat you gave me. It will always be a reminder of the day you came and changed my life and many things in me. I owe you a lot, and this is where this little confession is coming from, no matter how embarrassed I’m feeling right now.
Goodbye Danny and good luck to you,
Sofia x
As soon as she wrote that first draft, Sofia felt her heart lift. She was aware her anger showed in the letter, but she was beyond caring. Before she posted it to him, she simply rewrote it on a fresh piece of paper in clear, meticulous handwriting, far from her usual left-handed scribbles. Still, she sent it exactly as it was, not leaving out or changing a single word to hide how hurt and how defeated she felt.
For a few moments, her hand froze in mid-air as it held the letter halfway through the slit of the yellow letterbox around the corner from her house. Doubt had caused her to hesitate, but then, a voice rose from within her. Enough. He shouldn’t be making fun of this. He should be reminded this love is real. Sofia knew where this voice had come from. It had only been the scarce leftovers of her sanity that had voiced those tiny doubts. But that other voice, ancient and bold, had left her no room for retreat. Detached from her, but oddly one with her at the same time, that inner voice had taken control of her body and let the letter fall inside the letterbox with a soft thud and a jovial clanking from the metal slit, as if it were acknowledging her brave leap of faith.
When the dreaded response came just over a week later—the quickest response she’d ever got from him—she had already lost her nerve. Unlike any other time when she’d tear the envelope open with an impatient hand, this time she sat quietly for a few moments, before braving to venture inside.
Sussex, January 16th 1988
Dear Sofia,
Blimey! I don’t know what to say. There’s so much anger in your letter, and I had no idea you had these feelings for me.
For what it’s worth, I do like you a lot, and this is why I have been writing. Corfu was great but to be frank, I never gave the future a thought. I thought we were just two friends going with the flow. I was only joking of course when I mentioned girls and mistletoe in my last letter, but even so, I don’t see how that was so inappropriate. I never led you on!
Yes, I do go out with girls occasionally, but I don’t think this makes me arrogant or self-centered. After all, I never gave you any promises of love.
Thank you for the advice regarding my job hunting. It was a punch below the belt mind you, but you’re right, I guess. Also, since you made a confession to me, it’s only fair I make one too. I have your photo stuck on the wall above my bed and I intend to keep it there. The time we spent together by the tiny pier in Vassilaki will always be special to me.
It sounds like you are very mad at me, so I guess this is goodbye . . . but know that if you’re ever in Brighton, you can always give me a ring. I owe you a tour around my hometown to return the favour and besides, I still want to show you the pier I’ve been telling you about.
Take care,
Danny xxx
It had been two long weeks since Sofia received Danny’s last letter. She’d just read it in the private haven of her room for the umpteenth time that evening, and again, she wept even more bitter tears of regret. His hat was no longer hanging on the bedpost. It was hidden under her bed now, wrapped up in a bag, away from prying eyes, especially her own. As always, she ached to touch it and wear it again, yet no longer could afford to. The pain had grown too intense.
It was close to midnight, and she couldn’t sleep. Her parents had long retired to bed, and her bedside lamp was on, in the pretence that she was studying. Yet, all she was doing is read Danny’s last letter over and over again and feel remorse wash over her like a jet of ice cold water. It felt like she was chastising herself, but although she was aware of that, she couldn’t help it.
With a long sigh, she let the single sheet of paper roll down her lap with a soft rustle, as she reached over to the bedside table to get her Walkman. It was still one of her most cherished possessions, bought with th
e money she’d made from her very first job at the pier. She took Danny’s compilation tape out of the Walkman and fondled it with tender fingers, just like she had a thousand times before, as if nothing had changed; as if their paths hadn’t parted. The thought alone made her stomach clench. Her breath caught in her throat escaping from her lips with difficulty. It’s over. There will be no more letters. It sounded so final. He had offered to see her when she visited Brighton, but the question was, how would she pluck up the courage to ever face him again after the things she had said? After exposing herself and her feelings so earnestly?
She put the tape back inside and pressed PLAY. The spools turned making a soothing sound that was pregnant with anticipation for the first notes to play. She knew the first song by heart, as it was her favourite; it was “Loving You Again” by Chris Rea. As it started to play, she turned off the light and slid under the covers. In the shrouding darkness she imagined herself floating in the air, drifting, until she was far away from where all the pain was.
By the time the song ended, the tears that had stained her pillow reminded her there was no escaping the pain after all. There were no magic notes or words that could make it go away, for it resided deep down inside. She turned on the light again and took her notebook and pen. Only writing another poem could help her now. It was the only thing that seemed to grant her a morsel of solace since Danny left. Now that there were going to be no more letters, she was going to need this more than ever before.