Free A Life In A Moment by Stefanos Livos Page A

forgotten all about them. I didn’t feel any pain at
all, nor did I care how they looked.
    A little
later, she announced we were approaching Paris; an hour later, we
were standing in a long queue from the carriage onto the platform.
    «What
are you doing now?» she asked after we disembarked.
    «I’m
taking a taxi to the airport. You?»
    «I’m
taking the metro to my grandma’s.»
    «So,
I guess we have to say goodbye.»
    Angelique
nodded and moved closer to hug me. I felt drops of rain falling down
inside me, through a faucet saying I would never see her again.
    «I
hope you’ll turn over a new leaf and everything will be
smoother and less fraught...»
    «Thank
you very much. I hope you will always have the most wonderful time!»
    She let
out an innocent giggle. How lucky Francois was...
    I looked
at her once more; my last words were a smile of farewell, twisted
into a grimace. I lifted my suitcase and walked towards the exit,
having a new hope, more crystallised than the one I had two days
before: to find, in London, my own Angelique...
     

  27
     
    Three and
a half hours later, I was sitting at a small window, watching the
airport fade into the distance. As the plane accelerated, I relished
the sensation of the g-forces pulling my body deep into the seat. My
deep feeling of escape now escalated with the lift-off from French
soil. What a beautiful feeling!
    I was
going to begin my new life in no time. The disappointment, sorrow,
pain and confusion that betrayal had foisted upon my heart would
exist no more.
    We flew
among clouds, which passed hurriedly by like transparent ghosts. In
the distance, I could make out some dim lights. My heart began to
beat faster.
    It was the
very first picture I had of England, a blackboard with many white
spots; first sparse, then clustering more densely, till they fused to
into the lines of roads.
    Exiting
the plane through a jet bridge, along with my fellow passengers, I
walked through to passport control, and then towards the arrivals
hall. I would collect my one and only suitcase, and make it to the
exit, where my brother would be waiting for me. I felt a pang at the
thought, which grew into a craving. I’d informed him of my
change of plans and he had promised to pick me up from Heathrow. I
hadn’t seen him for seven months since his last visit to
Greece, the previous summer.
    He was
there, behind the sliding doors, among the impatient strangers, with
a smile he painted onto his face just for me. By his side was
Samantha. It was the first time I’d seen her in the flesh. The
photos Pavlos had shown me didn’t do her justice at all. She
was so much prettier.
    He pulled
me into his arms.
    «Hi,
Vassilis», Samantha greeted me in good Greek, hugging me.
    «Hi,
Samantha. Glad to meet you at last!»
    «These»,
he said, touching my still tender face with compassion, «need
some care.»
    He took my
suitcase, gently holding the nape of my neck, and made it for the
exit, his girlfriend beaming. We walked a long distance through the
undercover parking to his light blue, five-door Vauxhall. Not wanting
to take Samantha’s place, I politely sat in the back.
Instantly, it struck me that the car didn’t have a steering
wheel, but sheepishly realised my naivety of habit and tried to
relax.
    I was
amazed by Samantha’s command of Greek. I told her as much.
    «Well,
I’ve learnt quite a lot. Seven years with Paul...», she
replied, stroking his hair, while he smiled at me in the mirror.
    I smiled
back, happy for both of them. I couldn’t keep myself from
looking outside.
    England
was a foreign land to me. Still, it was the country where my father
was born, where my mother was killed and where my brother grew up. So
then, how could this country be that foreign? I was the foreigner. I
had to get used to it, jump into it and swim down to its bottom. I
had to mingle with its people, exchange Vassilis for Bill, look right when crossing the road,
become accustomed to the rain and replace my