‘We are the ones who ran away,’ he elaborated.
‘Forgive me, Captain, I did not mean to include you. The captain is an honoured guest from the army and not from the island.’
The captain smiled slightly, nodding forgiveness, then delicately brushed an imaginary piece of dust from his sleeve and cleared his throat.
Gabriel was staring at the mayor, which the Greek took for inquisitiveness.
‘Before the war . . .’ the mayor said, pausing to drain a glass of wine, ‘the last one, the Second World’s War. Before that war this island was seventeen thousand people.’
‘Less,’ the lawyer interrupted with the perfunctory certainty of someone who has the answer to everything. ‘The First World War there was seventeen thousand people perhaps, but there was less by the Second World War.’
‘Okay,’ the mayor shrugged, indifferent to the actual figures. ‘Fifteen thousand then.’
‘Maybe less,’ the lawyer interrupted again, much to the irritation of the mayor who tried not to let it show.
‘It doesn’t really matter,’ the mayor went on. ‘My point is there were thousands,’ he said, pausing to look at the lawyer in case he had another comment to make. ‘The Germans were coming and so the British sent some ships to take the people away. Everyone left the island. Every member of every family carrying what they could.’
‘And then there was the fire,’ the restaurant owner said.
‘I was getting to that,’ the mayor said. ‘A fire spread through the town destroying almost all of it.’
‘A fire started by the British,’ the lawyer added.
‘No one knows that for sure,’ the mayor corrected, smiling at Stratton, his defence of the British a little obvious.
‘They robbed the island first, don’t forget,’ the lawyer said.
‘Rumours,’ the mayor scoffed. ‘There is no proof . . . Anyway, the point I am trying to make is everyone left the island.’ The mayor refilled his glass.
‘The entire island was evacuated?’ Gabriel asked. ‘Even the farmers and shepherds?’
‘All of them,’ the mayor said. ‘It was completely deserted. Everyone vowed to return as soon as the Germans were defeated.’
‘But since no one at the time believed they would be defeated, no one in fact said that,’ the lawyer added.
‘So what happened?’ Stratton asked.
‘Nothing happened,’ the lawyer said.
‘Everyone was comfortable where they were,’ the mayor said. ‘In America, Australia, England, wherever they ran away to.’
‘This was an island with occasional electricity, occasional water shortages, occasional fresh food and half a mile from the Turks who say it is theirs and one day they will come and take it,’ the lawyer expanded. ‘And nothing has changed.’
‘The Turks will never take it,’ said the restaurant owner. ‘Not while the army is here,’ he said, indicating the captain, who nodded appreciatively.
‘They will come if the population drops below one hundred and fifty people,’ the lawyer said. ‘That’s the agreement.’
‘It’s already below that figure,’ the restaurant owner argued. ‘One hundred and five is all we have.’
‘Then the Turks will come,’ the lawyer said, unconvincingly.
‘Never,’ said the restaurant owner. ‘All we have to do is bring more people back to claim their homes.’
‘Huh,’ grunted the lawyer. ‘Big chance of that. It will be the same problem. How can they prove which home belongs to whom?’
‘The land registry was burned down in the fire,’ the mayor informed Gabriel. ‘Inside was all documentation of who owned what house on the island. People have come back to try to claim their house but have no proof.’
‘There are even cases of more than one family claiming they own the same house,’ said the lawyer.
‘No one knows whose house is whose,’ the mayor added.
‘Which suits you and our fine lawyer here,’ the restaurant owner mumbled.
‘Not in front of our guests, please,’ the mayor said.
‘Why not? It doesn’t matter if the whole world knows. No one can meddle in your affairs.You have it all tied up like a neat package.’
‘It doesn’t concern anyone,’ the lawyer said.
‘What are you afraid of?’ the restaurant owner continued defiantly. ‘No one can touch you or the mayor. You have the support of Athens, as long as you don’t get too greedy.You already own a quarter of the island and you will own the rest before long.’
‘And you have done okay by it, I might add,’ the lawyer snapped, getting heated. ‘I wonder who really owned your restaurant and your vineyard before you claimed them.’
The restaurant owner felt the sting of that attack; however, he was not to be silenced yet. ‘Everyone at this table has done okay, and they might not all say it in the open but behind your back they all agree you have been too greedy.’
‘We’ve all done okay,’ the mayor said, trying to calm things. ‘Don’t ruin it for yourself.’
‘Is that some kind of threat?’ the restaurant owner asked.
‘You’re getting paranoid,’ the lawyer said.
‘Me? Paranoid! You are joking, of course. Everyone who sets foot on the island he quizzes in case they are here to claim a house,’ the restaurant owner said to Gabriel. ‘I can guarantee he is suspicious of you.You think he believes you are a university lecturer? And then they complain about the lack of tourists. What precious few we have are investigated by this man. And heaven forbid if they should hint they once had family on the island. Suddenly their water runs out or their electricity, or something happens to their baggage, like that Australian family who lost their wallets, passports and other valuables which strangely turned up on Rhodes, and you and the mayor ever so kindly bought them ferry tickets - one way tickets - to go to Rhodes to get their stuff.’
‘That’s absurd,’ the lawyer said, suddenly starting to laugh. The mayor also fought a snigger as he remembered the incident.
‘You laugh at us as if we are stupid. But not all of them are so frightened of you,’ the restaurant owner said, grinning as he nudged the customs officer and then whispered to him. They both sniggered and the restaurant owner translated what he had said for Stratton and Gabriel’s entertainment. ‘What about that crazy Russian you tried to interrogate because he was being so secretive?’ he directed at the lawyer.
The customs officer chuckled as the lawyer looked suddenly embarrassed.
‘You kept on asking him what he was doing here and he didn’t want to say,’ the restaurant owner continued, then began to mimic strangling someone. ‘Finally you asked him again what his name was and he grabbed you by the neck and threatened to break it if you didn’t leave him alone.’The restaurant owner and customs officer burst out laughing, the mayor joining them.
‘He would have crushed you like a snail if the army had not come to save you,’ the restaurant owner added, guffawing loudly.
‘And so he call army,’ the customs officer said in broken English, almost in tears.
‘Rubbish,’ the lawyer said in a red-faced huff that only caused more laughter.
‘Isn’t that right, Captain?’ the restaurant owner asked the army officer. ‘He would have stamped our great lawyer into the ground and hit him with his big piece of wood.’The laughter got even louder and the mayor’s wife joined in. It was so infectious Gabriel began to grin.
‘You should have seen this Russian,’ the mayor said to Stratton. ‘He was huge. Hands like plates. And he carried a large piece of wood everywhere.You would have to shoot him several times to stop him if he attacked you.’
‘The lawyer was right to call me,’ the captain said, quite seriously. ‘The man was a soldier and very dangerous.’
‘How do you know he was a soldier?’ the mayor said. ‘He told no one anything about himself. That’s why our lawyer thought he wanted to claim a house.’
