The Soviet Comeback by Jamie Smith (best ereader for academics TXT) 📕

“Instead of making me Greek, it made me feel like I don’t quite belong anywhere. At least in Baltimore I can feel comfortable with others who don’t know whether they’re American or Greek, but at the same time nowhere has ever been as comfortable for me as Skyros. My pappoús rented the shop for me because he wants to keep family close, as family is the most important thing for Greeks, but I may try moving back to the US for a while soon I think.”

“Maybe instead of needing to just be one thing, you will come to love being many different things,” Nikita said.

She looked intently at him, and for the first time her face softened. “I like that way of looking at it,” she replied. “And you? Are you many different things?”

“I think that’s a very good way of putting it. But like you, I haven’t yet found the joy in it. For the moment I can content myself with the American bits of me, as I grew up in Daytona Beach, Florida.”

He felt like a fraud, responding to her openness with KGB lies. He couldn’t help but feel totally captivated by Elysia, who seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve and hide nothing. He took a long drink of his wine and was struck by how rich and complex it was, barely considering his personal pledge to stay teetotal throughout his mission.

At that moment in walked Giorgos, his lift from Houlakia Bay earlier that day, and upon seeing Nikita he opened his arms in a broad smile. “Nathan!” he called out, accidentally knocking over the bottle of wine of a man in a wide-brimmed straw hat who had just sat down at a nearby table. The man swore at Giorgos, who waved him away jovially. Nikita stood, and Giorgos embraced him like an old friend. Again, unsure how to react to kindness, Nikita tried to seem as though he was comfortable with it.

He turned to Elysia. “This is Giorgos, a recent acquaintance of mine.”

“Well, there is certainly more to you than I expected, Nathan,” she said, looking amused, then kissed Giorgos, who embraced Elysia fiercely and again planted the two kisses firmly on her cheek and spoke to her in rapid Greek too fast for Nikita to follow. “So my uncle tells me he brought you into town earlier,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Your uncle?”

Giorgos and Elysia chuckled, and Giorgos put his arm around her, planting a big kiss on her cheek.

Nikita smiled begrudgingly, again feeling wrong-footed. He briefly noticed the man in the straw hat trying to shake the last drops from his bottle of wine, still muttering to himself, before standing and heading into the bar for another bottle. The uncle and niece sat down opposite him. “So how are you finding Skyros, Nathan?” Giorgos asked.

Nikita smiled insincerely. “I had a feeling you knew English,” he said, his senses prickling.

“It pays to know things on this island,” Gorgios said with a wink.

“It’s always useful to know the people who know useful things,” Nikita replied, his shoulders bunching.

“This is one of the vaguest conversations I’ve ever heard,” Elysia said, breaking the tension.

Nikita laughed, but didn’t take his eyes off Giorgos. Giorgos was staring right back, his deeply lined face showing a mixture of concern and humour.

Nikita topped both his and Elysia’s glasses up. “Will you join us for a glass, Giorgos?”

“Of course. There is always time for wine on Skyros.”

At that moment, Elysia’s grandfather called her name from inside the bar.

Elysia rolled her eyes. “He probably needs help reaching something at the bar. I’ll bring a glass for you on my way back, Uncle. Be gentle with him!”

She got up and wound her way back through the tables, but Nikita wasn’t watching, his eyes still fixed on Giorgos. He leant back in his chair. Something didn’t feel right.

“You like my niece, yes?”

Nikita said nothing.

“Men like you are no good for girls like her.”

Nikita’s eyes flashed, and his jaw clenched. So this was what it was all really about.

“Men like me?”

Giorgos laughed. “You think I mean because you’re black! This isn’t what I mean. Although yes, that would be hard for the family and the island to understand. It would provide entertaining gossip for years! But no, my friend, I mean because of what you do.”

Nikita said nothing, but slowly put a hand round to the small of his back where his revolver was tucked into the waist of his jeans.

“You say very little, my friend,” said Giorgos.

“I have little to say. Stop speaking in riddles and tell me what you are working towards.”

“So, I deliver wine for a living in Skyros.”

“Good for you. Why are you telling me?”

“I make deliveries to some very wealthy people around the island.”

The smile disappeared from Giorgos’s face as he stood and put his hands on the wooden table and leant forward until his head was next to Nikita’s ear. “Tonight, I deliver wine to a fortress on a hill,” he said breathily.

Then he said loudly in Greek, “Where is my niece with that wine glass? Whom God wishes to destroy first he makes mad!” he said, reciting an old Greek proverb with a look of comic tragedy on his face that caused people around the bar to laugh. As he turned to walk to the bar he winked and whispered one word: “Kemran.”

Nikita leant back on the legs of his chair and exhaled. This island was full of unlikely surprises. His mind was now clear and back focused on the mission ahead. He needed to get out of this bar and speak to Kemran about Giorgos and check in with Ambassador Yitski to confirm the trustworthiness of these sources. If Giorgos