Read The Whispers of Nemesis for Free Online Page B

run. Another five thousand maybe, see how they go.’
    â€˜Poor Santos,’ said Attis. He glanced at the tip of his cigar, which had gone out. ‘Man has many projects, and God cuts them short. To hear that he was selling well would have been balm to his very soul. You might let me have the figures, when you get back to the office. In the meantime, let me buy you that drink.’
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    Maria found no comfort in her tea; there was no soothing in the floweriness of the camomile, nor any sweetening for her bitterness in the melting honey. She untwisted her damp handkerchief, and dabbed again at her eyes.
    â€˜Such a loss I never thought to feel,’ she said. ‘And the casket closed and sealed, so I never even kissed his face goodbye! Kamari mou, kamari mou! Like a son he was to me; he was the son I never had!’
    â€˜He was, kalé , he was,’ said the next-door neighbour, squeezing Maria’s hand before taking another biscuit from the plate. ‘You were a mother to him, all those years.’
    Roula, Maria’s own mother, was preparing vegetables for pickling. On newspaper spread over the good table, she pared the earth-darkened skins of carrots pulled from the garden; the acid smell of vinegar hung in the air.
    â€˜It must have made him ugly, for it to be closed casket,’ she said, making a triple cross over her heart. ‘They say with a choking, the face is blue. It makes them goggle-eyed, and swells the tongue. And you doted on him too much, kori mou . You spoiled him, you and that sister of his. Writing poetry was never honest work, for a man.’
    Maria was about to object, but the neighbour spoke first.
    â€˜What about the will, kalé ?’ she asked; the pap of chewed biscuits stuck in the gums of the new teeth she was so proud of. ‘Tell us what you know about the will.’
    â€˜He left a little to me,’ said Maria, tearfully. ‘He left me a little token, as I expected.’
    â€˜I hope it isn’t books,’ said Roula, dropping carrot slices into a preserving jar. ‘It’s cash you want. Is it cash?’
    â€˜He left me a few drachmas,’ said Maria. ‘It’s not a great deal, but it’s something.’
    â€˜Not a great deal, for all your years of service?’ asked her mother. ‘Don’t let them insult you. If it’s not enough, you give it back.’
    â€˜I don’t think he was wealthy,’ said the neighbour. ‘If he was wealthy, he hid it very well. And they say no one left the will-reading with a smile.’
    â€˜Why should anyone be smiling at a will-reading?’ asked Maria. ‘They were doling out a dead man’s effects. Who would be smiling at that?’
    â€˜They might be smiling more in four years’ time,’ said the neighbour darkly, as she chose another biscuit.
    â€˜Four years? What do you mean?’ Roula brushed carrot parings from her apron lap. ‘Pass me those biscuits, Maria; let me have one whilst there’s still one to have, and tell me what she means.’
    Maria pushed the plate towards her mother.
    â€˜That’s what he said in the will. It’s how he wanted it. There’s nothing for anyone for four years.’
    â€˜Four years!’ said her mother, a biscuit only halfway to her mouth. ‘What was he thinking of? Had he lost his mind? Does he want his family to starve?’
    â€˜He didn’t say four years, exactly,’ said Maria. ‘The lawyer read out his words, so we could hear them for ourselves. Santos put it very poetically. When my bones finally see daylight . Something like that.’
    â€˜I suppose he meant, then,’ said the neighbour, chewing thoughtfully, ‘until his exhumation.’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Maria, nodding slowly. ‘Yes, I suppose he did.’
    Roula gave a hard, barking laugh.
    â€˜I’d have paid money to see their faces, when that was read out!’ she