Tales of Sin & Fury, Part 1 by Sonia Paige Read Free Book Online Page B

Meera tees . Her fate. The Fates.”
    â€˜I knew about the Fates from Greek myths. Spinning people’s lives and cutting them.
    â€˜â€œShe was my cousin,” he said. “Very beautiful.”
    â€˜â€œI’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.
    â€˜â€œYou look a little something like her,” he said. He scrutinized my face. “But not the hairs, no.” He reached out and spread my hair over my shoulders, stroking it. It was long at the time and very blond.’
    â€˜Out of a bottle?’ asks Debs.
    I shake my head. ‘I never had to.’
    â€˜Unlike some,’ says Debs, eyeballing Mandy.
    Mandy ignores her. ‘Go on,’ she says.
    â€˜Lefteris said, “Since then every day my aunt…” Then he stopped, took my hand and pulled me away. “We are alive,” he said and gave that smile again. It made the scar on his left cheek crinkle up.
    â€˜That evening we went to the pictures. An outdoor cinema with upright wooden chairs, and lizards crawling on the screen. The film was Doctor Doolitle so a few more animals didn’t matter. They sold sugar-crusted almonds in little bags instead of popcorn. I can’t remember much of the film.’
    â€˜Too busy snogging, I bet,’ says Debs from her bed opposite.
    â€˜Not much. It was a public place so he held back. The Greeks are strict like that. It’s just that the movie wasn’t worth remembering. The night sky was more interesting. A dome of diamonds in blue velvet. A lid of warm air pressing down on us. The sounds of the evening streets around the cinema. Friends calling to each other through the dusk. I held Lefteris’ hand and afterwards he kissed me goodnight. Very polite.’
    â€˜No action there, then,’ says Debs.
    â€˜No,’ I say. ‘Afraid not.
    â€˜The next day he took me to meet his family. They all lived in one house. Lefteris’ grandfather was still working the land, the family had a plot at the far end of the beach. The grandfather kept a donkey in the field behind the house. His handshake was brusque, the skin on his palms was rough. Lefteris’ grandmother was crotcheting with a tiny hook and the finest thread. Her hands moved regularly like the inside of a clock. Beside her sat the widowed aunt dressed in black, the one we had seen at the cemetery. She watched everything from her hollowed-out eyes. On the table was a bowl full of crimson red hard-boiled eggs; Lefteris explained they were for Easter.
    â€˜His dad had a shop on the harbour which sold a little of everything including tickets for the shipping line. He was suave and hospitable as he poured the home-made wine. Two younger sisters hovered shyly at the edge of the room. Apparently Lefteris was the first ever in the family to go to university, he was the apple of his mother’s eye. She was a heavy woman in a dark patterned summer dress. She had huge breasts, they looked like they were built for mothering. Unlike mine.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ says Debs, ‘I ain’t being personal, but there’s not much going for you in that department.’
    â€˜Don’t mind Debs,’ says Mandy. ‘So what did his mum do?’
    â€˜She kept her eyes on me while I nibbled politely at the olives and nuts, as if she was deciding whether I would pass some kind of test. I wondered if she thought my blue cotton dress a bit shabby, or its skirt a bit short. Her first question sounded aggressive, and she made Lefteris translate: “Where is your mother?”
    â€˜â€œAt home in England,” I replied, and he translated.
    â€˜â€œAnd she lets you come here alone?” she asked.
    â€˜I couldn’t tell her what really happened, so I gave the easy answer: “Yes.”
    â€˜â€œLefteris is a good boy” she said, and he squirmed as he translated. His face had such a liquid beauty: soft brown features, sharp restless eyes and his