and breath as it was near closing time, with the knowledge that it would soon be left bereft of worshippers.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door was opened and Maria was standing there in all her five-foot- four-inch bohemian-dressed glory. She said nothing, but stepped to one side and let him in.
Passing the threshold, he stooped low to avoid colliding with the doorframe. He followed Maria into a cool central courtyard surrounded by balconies and lots of pots with aromatic plants covering every corner of the arches surrounding the courtyard on the ground floor.
The sounds of the city were now only a hushed and distant murmur. Maria needed to ask no questions from this unexpected visitor. She could read the worried lines on his face and… was it that fear that she saw in his eyes?
‘Maria, I think I’m in trouble.’
‘You? In trouble? No kidding. You’ve never been in trouble in your life. Even at school you would always get me out of trouble and fight anyone who dared to threaten me, but I think it was your excuse to get yourself into trouble. Trouble sticks to you like mud and you enjoy it. Admit it.’
Though he was in a desperate bind, he played along and smiled weakly, at the same time raising his arms in mock surrender. ‘Guilty as charged.’
Maria did like a good rant and enjoyed putting up the reprimanding act. It was a role she fell into with ease. It definitely was her maternal instinct that never seemed to sleep but loved overtime, rearing its obsessive head and going into overdrive.
He decided it was time to stop playing games. He looked at Maria who began to understand the gravity of the situation, but he could see she still had her doubts.
‘Maria, I really need your help. Someone is following me. I need to use the tunnel and I may need you to create a diversion.’
‘The tunnel? But, Giorgos, that has not been used for years. I don’t even know whether it is safe. Are you sure you are not imagining the whole thing? It’s not a movie you know. I know your chosen profession has not exactly been an “Indiana-Jones-like” adventure, but it’s had its moments. It’s time to stop daydreaming.’
As she said it, she knew his face told the truth and it dawned on her that he was not making it up. She went into action, her usual efficient self, a friend you could always rely on at a time of need.
She opened a non-descript enamelled box sitting in a corner of the kitchen, and, after briefly rummaging inside, retrieved two identical beautifully-crafted keys, of an art and craftsmanship of a time now long lost, obviously very old. On her way out of the kitchen she grabbed a couple of torches and checked that they worked. With a slight movement of the head she told Giorgos to follow her.
As they were making their way to the back of the house, there was a loud knock on the door. They were spat out into the real world, their task momentarily suspended. They stopped dead in their tracks and listened.
With a heavy heart that weighed him down so much that he almost left footprints deep in the stone floor, Giorgos could almost catch the smell of his ruthless pursuer and Katia’s most likely instrument of grievous harm and near murderer.
Maria hesitated and almost turned to walk back to answer the front door. She was expecting her friend, Chryso, any moment now. But something held her back.
The knock sounded urgent, and that was unlike Chryso. Besides Chryso would have called out to her, as well. It couldn’t be Chryso. At that moment her by now edgy mind told her that whoever was calling at her house was not a friend.
Giorgos could almost see Maria’s mental debate and almost intervened to take the final decision for her, but her face, when she turned back to look at him, told him that the front would not be answered any time soon. Still he felt he had to rush her, but not terrify her.
He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. ‘Ignore it. Let’s go.’ They reached the end of a corridor that took them left and right and left again and through a series of rooms to the deepest reaches of the house. It didn’t look it from the street, but like many houses of the same period it was a big barrow of a house, a labyrinth to get lost in which could be, to put it mildly, inconvenient on a good day but a godsend when being chased.
Maria stopped in front of a heavy wardrobe, gifted to her by her grandmother. Giorgos was relieved to see that they had finally reached their destination. He began to think that they were half way to Nicosia, the capital, by then. Maria started to move the wardrobe without asking for Giorgos’ help and she pushed him away when he went to help her. ‘Leave it. Save your energy.’
Maria silently thanked her mother for leading her into the rigour and discipline of a life shaped by gymnastics training since she was a little girl, barely out of the habit of sucking her thumb and playing with her favourite doll. And of course her later obsession with martial arts helped.
Behind the wardrobe was a simply constructed heavy-looking wooden door. Maria inserted one of the keys and it turned easily, even after all these years. She shook her head in disbelief. Behind the door the aroma was of vintage stale and damp of a, by now, forgotten good year. She gave Giorgos the two torches and one of the keys.
‘Go on. Take the key and lock the door behind you. I’ll see who it is and, if necessary, keep them busy to buy you time.’
‘Maria, no. I know I asked you to create a diversion, but it’s not worth it. It’s too dangerous. Come with me. Please.’
‘I’ve been in scary scrapes before. How far worse can this be? And you forget I know my martial arts. OK, I’m not a master, but I can handle an emergency. I have been hoping for some action for some time now. I think I’m growing rusty.’
‘Maria, this is not a game.’
‘Don’t I know it. I rather gathered that within seconds of you coming through that door.’ She indicated towards the direction of the front door.
‘These people are ruthless.’ He grabbed her arm and shook her vigorously. Her expression and physical detachment, transmitted from her flesh to his, told him that he should let her go, but he had to persevere. ‘Maria, they tried to kill Katia.’
Maria’s eyes opened wide, but then contracted again. ‘No, not Katia. But why? How?’
‘Not now. There’s no time. But whoever has been following me and who’s most probably knocking at your door right now could be responsible.’
‘She will make it, won’t she?’
‘I don’t know. I really hope so. She’s in good hands. I called an ambulance and they took her away. She must be in the hospital by now.’
Now Maria felt angry and more determined than ever. Giorgos pleaded with her again, but eventually had to give up, because he knew that, once her mind was made up, he didn’t stand a chance in hell in persuading her to change it. He also knew he had wasted enough time already.
‘Giorgos, just go. You’ll have a better chance on your own. Do what you have to do. I can tell it’s important; too important for you to risk your mission by putting your life on the line here or by delaying further. Just go. Hurry. I’ll stall whoever is at the door.’
Giorgos realised she was right and that was why he had come to ask for her help. And standing there arguing was costing him valuable time. He relented. ‘OK, you are right.’
‘And believe me, whoever that is he would not be allowed even the remotest pleasure of finding out the existence of the tunnel.’
‘OK, Good luck.’
‘To you too. I love these exciting dates of ours. We should do it more often.’ Maria kissed him and went back into the house. Soon after she heard the key turn by Giorgos locking the door.
She then pulled the heavy wardrobe back in front of the door, completely covering its existence. She threw a couple of rugs in front and on the sides of the wardrobe to hide any skid marks from moving it on the wooden floor.
She looked at her handy work and nodded to herself in approval. The wardrobe appeared as if it had not been moved for a very long time.
After a few minutes in the tunnel, Giorgos found himself in a small chamber. He saw with relief the dim light of the tunnel giving way to a brightness he was struggling to get used to. He looked up at the ceiling of the chamber for the source of the sudden bright light flooding in.
