Free Secret Souls by Roberta Latow

on the path. His answer was to take her in his arms and kiss her. They resumed their walk into the port, Manoussos telling her about the houses they passed and the people who lived in them, and Chadwick wondering where she had been and what she had done her whole life.
    It was getting dark and the lights of Livakia were being turned on. Chadwick was seeing the old port transform itself. Siesta long since over, the shops were open again and the villagers were dressed for their evening walk, drifting into the coffee shops and the restaurants, gossiping in small groups near the water’s edge about the arrival of the schooner, so majestic and intriguing. The sound of the water lapping against the
caiques,
the marvellous wooden boats undulating in a sea now dark and nearly vanishing in the dusky light; men playing backgammon, some drinking ouzo at small wooden tables set out on the cobblestoned quay, others smoking and talking of politics, the Greek national pastime.
    The Cretans, always curious and anything but shy, sauntered past the long table to greet Manoussos, their way of begging an introduction to the stranger, the beauty, who had cast a spell on their chief of police.
    The late lunch party was finally making ready to disperse, but not for long. They had agreed to meet again at ten o’clock, those who could sober up enough from the laughter and the wine, for dinner in the other restaurant in Livakia: Pasiphae’s. That was at Elefherakis’s invitation. He was completely intrigued by Chadwick.
    A small boy was sent running to the restaurant set back from the port among a maze of narrow cobblestone lanes and white-washed walls, ruined houses and lost gardens. It had a pretty enclosed courtyard to dine in, though all agreed there was now too much of a nip in the air so they would dine inside. Andoni’s task was to see if the temperamental chef was cooking that night, and if so to say that a dozen or more people would be arriving at ten. The boy’s next stop was the musician’s house with an invitation to join the dinner table. All were delighted when Andoni returned to the table unscathed and with a smile on hisface. It had been more than likely he might have returned with a bruise from a flying pot. The Pasiphae’s chef was not above such behaviour.
    The news delighted everyone. Now they did begin to leave: the residents to do their evening errands or else return home to bathe and change, the crew to the
Black Narcissus
to secure their boat for the night and get ready for night life Livakian-style, and Manoussos and Chadwick to Manoussos’s house to make love.
    On the way home they were stopped every few paces by someone new to meet, and Chadwick was enchanted by it all. Arms round each other, she and Manoussos started their climb through the lanes up towards his house. They passed a string of donkeys, their bells echoing between the white-washed walls, their hooves clip-clopping on the cobblestones. They were coming down from the cliff top where there was a large terrace where the only road into Livakia ended. A mountain road that was hard core and dirt and rough riding, and the sea, were the only ways in and out of Livakia.
    ‘They’re marvellous, your friends, the Livakians and the foreigners. They’re all so interesting, lead lives one only reads about. This is still the Greece of Katzanzakis novels and the music of Theodorakis. They seem to have got their lives right – well, their priorities anyway. They’ve left the rat race, whether social or work, behind them in order to live and laugh and pursue their pleasures. I’m as fascinated by them as much as I like them. Do I sound naive? Am I being naive?’
    It had not taken more than an hour at that table for Manoussos to realise that Chadwick, for all her intelligence, beauty and incredible sensuality, was indeed naive, an innocent when it came to the harshness and the joys of real life. She had been a woman who had been cushioned and cared for. She had