Three of Hearts

… a woman who was all dressed up
and wearing a wide-brimmed hat …

F rom then on, everything happened so fast I now have problems reshuffling my memories.

Dad saw a couple of photographers and a little group of people who obviously were not ordinary tourists at the far end of the promontory. As we moved closer, we noticed a woman who was all dressed up and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, a pair of dark sunglasses, and a long bright yellow dress. She was clearly the centre of all the attention.

‘There she is,’ Dad said.

He froze like a statue, but I just walked straight over to her.

‘You can take a break from this snapping now,’ I announced so loudly that the two Greek photographers spun round, even though they hadn’t understood a word I had said.

I remember I was pretty angry. I thought this was going too far. All these people feasting on Mama by taking photos of her from all angles, when we hadn’t had a glimpse of her for over eight years.

Now it was Mama’s turn to freeze like a statue. She removed her sunglasses and looked down at me from a distance of ten to fifteen metres. She glanced at Dad – and then down at me again.

She was so bowled over, I had time for a great many thoughts to pass through my head before anything else happened.

First I thought of how I didn’t know her. Yet I was also certain that she was my own Mama. That’s something a child always knows. I also thought she was incredibly beautiful.

The rest was like a slow-motion movie. Although Dad was the one Mama had recognised, I was the one she ran to. For a few seconds I felt sorry for Dad, because it might have looked as though Mama cared more about me.

As she ran towards me she threw off her fancy hat, and then she tried to pick me up, but she couldn’t – Athens isn’t the only place where things change in eight years. Instead, she wrapped her arms round me and squeezed me tightly.

I remember smelling her and feeling happier than I had done for many years. It wasn’t the kind of pleasure you have when you eat or drink something – this happiness wasn’t just in my mouth, it bubbled through my whole body.

‘Hans Thomas, Hans Thomas,’ she said breathlessly. After that she didn’t say another word. All she could do was cry.

Only when she looked up again did Dad walk onstage. He took a couple of steps towards us and said, ‘We have travelled across the whole of Europe to find you.’ He didn’t have to say any more before Mama threw both her arms round his neck and sobbed there, too.

The photographers were not the only witnesses to this bitter sweet scene. Several tourists stood gaping at us, without the faintest idea that it had taken more than two hundred years to arrange this meeting.

When Mama stopped crying, she suddenly switched to her role as model. She turned and said something in Greek to the photographers. They shrugged their shoulders and said something which must have made Mama angry, and a heated argument developed between Mama and the photographers before they understood that they had to make themselves scarce. They packed up their things and shuffled off down through the temple site. One of them even picked up the hat Mama had tossed aside as she ran towards me. As they rounded the corner of the entrance, one of them pointed to his watch and shouted something impudent at us in Greek.

Once we were left to ourselves, the three of us were so embarrassed we didn’t know what to say or do. It is relatively easy to meet people you haven’t seen for many years, but it always gets more difficult once you’ve got over the initial shock.

The sun was already so low in the sky that it lay below the gable of the ancient Temple of Poseidon. The columns along the one short wall cast long shadows across the promontory. I wasn’t particularly surprised to notice a red heart on the bottom left-hand corner of Mama’s dress.

I don’t know how many times we walked round the temple, but I understood that Mama and I were not the only ones who needed time to get to know each other again. It wasn’t so easy for an old seaman from Arendal to know how to speak to an experienced model who spoke fluent Greek and had lived in Greece for many years. It probably wasn’t any easier for the model. Nevertheless, Mama talked about the sea god’s temple and Dad talked about the sea. Many years ago Dad had sailed past Cape Sounion on his way to Istanbul.

As the sun slipped below the horizon and the contours of the ancient temple grew clearer and darker, we started to make our way down to the entrance. I held back for a few minutes because it was up to the two adults to decide whether this was going to be just a short meeting or the end of a long separation.

In any case, Mama had to drive back to Athens with us, as the photographers hadn’t waited for her in the carpark. Dad opened the Fiat door as though it were a Rolls-Royce and Mama was a princess.

Before Dad had got as far as putting the car in gear, all three of us were talking at once. Then we sped back to Athens, and after we passed the first village, I was appointed as moderator.

In Athens we parked the car in the hotel garage and walked along the pavement up to the entrance to the lobby. We stood there for a long while without saying anything. The truth was that the chatter had been constant from the moment we’d left the ancient temple, but none of us had raised the topic of what all this really was about.

Eventually I broke the awkward silence. ‘It’s about time we made some plans for the future.’

Mama put one of her arms round me, and Dad added a few sickening words about everything happening in due course.

After many if and whens, we all three went up to the roof terrace to celebrate the reunion with something cold and refreshing. Dad waved the waiter over and asked for soft drinks for the father and son and the house’s finest champagne for the lady.

The waiter scratched his head and sighed. ‘First the two gentlemen have a party on their own,’ he said. ‘Then they restrain themselves. Is it ladies’ night tonight?’

When he didn’t get an answer, he made note of the order and stumped back to the bar. Mama – who knew nothing about the previous occasions – looked at Dad in confusion. He in turn gave me a very stern joker stare, confusing her all the more.

Once we had talked at random for an hour without getting closer to the question everyone was thinking about, Mama insisted I go and get ready for bed. In a way, it was her contribution to child-rearing after having been away from her son for more than eight years.

Dad gave me a familiar ‘do as she says’ look, and it suddenly dawned on me that I was the reason for the halting conversation. I understood that the grown-ups had to talk together one to one. After all, they were the ones who had separated. I was just something which had complicated the whole affair.

I gave Mama a hug, and she whispered in my ear that she would take me to the best pastry shop in the city the next day. I was already preparing some secrets to tell her, too.

Once I had undressed in the hotel room, I got out the sticky-bun book right away and read on while I waited for Dad. There weren’t many pages of the teeny book left.

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Дата добавления: 2015-10-28