Page 20 of Deep Blue Lies
He frowns, clearly annoyed, and then he puts his hand to his ear, and I realise too late that he has earbuds in, and hasn’t heard a word of my question. So I try it again.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but do you know either of the people in this photograph?”
His response this time is a rapid flow of Greek, none of which I understand.
“These people…” I point at Mum in the photo. “Do you know them?”
More Greek, he sounds more annoyed this time. I step back.
“Sorry.” The man puts his earbud back in and goes on his way, shaking his fist now.
Damn it. This is kind of hard.
Even though there’s very few people around, it feels like everyone is watching me now, and either laughing, or judgemental of how I’m spoiling everyone’s day. But I’ve come this far, so I try again, with a woman who clearly noticed what happened with the exercising man. She turns out to be Dutch, and takes a good look at the photograph, but tells me she’s only been on the island for seven years, and doesn’t know my mum. I stop another older man, carrying a fishing rod and bucket – but at least he doesn’t have earbuds. His English isn’t very good, but he does look at the photo, and at least appears to consider whether he recognises Mum. But in the end he too shakes his head. He tells me, in broken English, that many people come to work on the island, but they usually don’t stay long. I thank him, and glance into the bucket. There’s anoctopus in there, its arms and suckers still moving. He notices me looking and holds it up, as if he expects I’ll want a better look, but I don’t. I smile and step back instead.
By now I’ve moved well away from the harbour, and along the seafront, down towards where the town stops. It’s basically a long line of restaurants, Aetos Diving, the water sports centre I saw the other day, and then a few bars, with my one at the end. I can see Hans is there already, getting ready to open later on, but I know there’s no point asking him. But then I think about the lady in the shop – Maria. She knew the truth about what happened at the Aegean Dream Resort, so she’s probably a good person to ask about this too. Although I’m not exactly sure what I think she might be able to tell me.
I cram this doubt back in its box and set off at a much faster pace, back along the seafront and then inland, towards the supermarket. On the way I wonder if it will be open still, but it is, and I’m relieved to see that Maria is there again. Half-relieved and half anxious all over again.
“Hello.” She smiles a welcome. I remember my need for a shower curtain, and use that as an excuse to start a conversation.
“Over there.” She points to a couple hanging from hooks by the stationery section. I take one and bring it to the till.
“How did the cleaning go?”
“Oh, good thank you.” Before I lose my nerve I pull the photograph out and hold it up to her. “This is a really strange question, but I wonder if you happen to remember the woman in this photograph? I’m trying to find out more about her.”
Maria looks at me first, then picks up a pair of spectacles and fixes them carefully in place. Then she takes my hand, pulling it and the photograph closer. She looks for a long time.
“May I ask why you’re interested?” she says, after a few moments.
“Oh. Yes, of course.” How do I say this? There’s only one way really.
“She’s my mother. I’m trying to find out moreabout her.”
Maria looks at me a long time after that, without speaking. She has big brown eyes, and they blink slowly, like she’s assessing me carefully.
“I’m sorry, has she passed away?”
“Oh! No…” I stop. This is hard to explain, and maybe it’s easier not to. “Not exactly. It’s just, complicated. I was born here on the island and I’m trying to find out more about it. About me.” I try to smile, but feel my cheeks heating up again, and I’m frustrated. If I want to find out about Mum, why don’t I just ask her? Because it’s not that easy. I don’t know. But Maria doesn’t seem to pass judgement. Instead she looks again at the photograph, drawing in a deep sigh.
“There are many people who come to the island, every summer,” she tells me, like the other guy did, down at the beach. Maria shakes her head. “It’s very hard to remember every face – and I have a good memory for faces.”
She looks at me again, and I think about the story she told me about the Aegean Dream Resort. Does she think that’s what I’m really interested in? That I’m some kind of weird horror-story enthusiast? If so she doesn’t say that.
“I’m afraid I don’t remember either girl, I’m sorry.” I’m about to nod and think who else I could ask, when she goes on.
“But the man here…” She points to the gardens in the background of the image. There’s a figure there. I’d noticed him before, because he looks kind of hot, even though you can’t see his face. “I think this is Kostas. When he was younger he worked as a gardener for the ADR, before it closed.” She smiles, like she expects I’ll recognise the name.
“Kostas?”
“Kostas Aetos. Aetos Diving? Down on the seafront. You can’t miss it.”
THIRTEEN
Aetos Diving is a cool-looking place, clean and ordered, and obviously busy. Out in front it has a jetty, with two large rigid-inflatable boats moored on it. Each of them has two shiny black engines fitted to the back. Some of the people walking around have a purposeful air, and they’re wearing T-shirts with the word TEAM on the back, which kind of gives away that they work here. Others, looking slightly awkward in wetsuits, I guess are customers. There’s no one that looks like an older version of the man in my photo.
I step inside the centre. It feels modern, with a big Mac computer on the reception desk. The girl working behind it glances up as I come in and gives me a friendly smile, but she’s on the phone, so I wait, looking around some more. There’s a rack of stand-up paddleboards leaning against one wall. Another has dozens of metallic air tanks, and tubes that I suppose are there to fill them up. On a rack high up – out of easy reach, I suppose – there’s a few spear guns, which look kind of frightening. There’s a noticeboard too, where hundreds of photographs have been pinned up. I move closer to take a look while the girl’s on the phone. Some are underwater: divers, fish, a wreck of some sort, and some ruins. Others are on the water, but it’s all to do with the sea. In a lot of thephotos I see a man with a thick dark beard and a stern expression. I look at every photo, and there’s not a single one where he’s doing anything other than scowling. Unfortunately, it’s pretty obvious he’s Kostas.
