Page 95 of Villa of Secrets

I may have gasped, I’m not sure, but when I found my voice I looked into Giovanni’s eyes and said, ‘I do.’

Nathanial said, ‘Do you, Giovanni, take Pandora for your wife, to love and honour for always?’

Giovanni continued to gaze at me. ‘I do,’ he said softly.

‘Then place the ring on her finger.’

Giovanni pulled at a leather thong around his neck and as it emerged from under his vest, I saw a ring glint in the starlight. Nathanial cut the thong and Giovanni slipped the simple band of gold onto my finger.

‘I now pronounce you man and wife. Kiss the bride,’ Nathanial said. Giovanni took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly.

A great racket of clapping and whistling came from inside, and I realised the rebels knew what was happening. Someone struck up an accordion, raki was handed out, olives and bread on the table, and a party whooped into full swing.

By midnight everyone was a little drunk. Giovanni whispered, ‘Let’s escape.’ And we rushed upstairs. In front of the bedroom door I’d been in earlier, he picked me up, carried me over the threshold, and placed me on the bed.

I took the wedding ring off. ‘I’m afraid of losing it, Giovanni; it’s too big.’

He pulled the thong from his pocket, slipped the gold band onto it, and tied it back together. ‘Then wear it like this until I can have it made smaller. It belonged to my mother.’

We abandoned our clothes and for the first time slept naked, all night long in each other’s arms. The happiest night of my life.

Afternoon, Saturday, 26 August 1944

I am back at the hut, and write this while Evangelisa and Xanthi are clearing a new kitchen garden at the edge of the woods.

Before I left the villa this morning, Giovanni and I ate eggs and bread with olive oil in the big kitchen. Nathanial came in and said I was to have a break for a week or so.

‘But I don’t want any time off, sir. We must end the war. I have to help my family return home!’ I cried. ‘Tell me how to get the radio back!’

But he was insistent.

Sunday, 27 August 1944

Where is Irini? She’s been gone for two days. I fear for her safety and miss her terribly. I wanted to keep our wedding a secret until I had told Irini about it myself. At midday, I met Giovanni under the cinnamon tree but I couldn’t relax.

‘I’m sorry, Giovanni. I’m so worried about Irini. Where can she be?’

‘It looks bad,’ he said. ‘That night, when I came to tell you where you were going, when you suspected we were being watched, you’re sure it wasn’t Irini? And are you certain she didn’t know about the radio?’

‘Of course!’ I lied. ‘How could you say such a thing!’ I turned and stomped back to the hut. He realised there was no point in following me.

I couldn’t believe Irini was an informer, but it didn’t look good. Her body was cold when I got into bed that night. She was the only one who had seen the radio and knew I was meeting Kapitanos Nikos. She also knew I was going to Kamiros Scala.

There was a simple explanation for these things, and I had to find it. Irini would never betray me – not ever – as I would never betray her. I felt sick at the thought of someone assisting the enemy when the lives of our families depended on the war ending.

*

Dear Diary, it is afternoon now and there is still no sign of Irini. With every hour, my concern deepens. After meeting Giovanni, I was sitting on the log outside the hut, contemplating all that had passed, when Evangelisa brought her hairbrush and started untangling my long hair.

‘I don’t know how you manage to get so much grass and twigs in the back of your hair, Dora,’ she scolded. ‘You really should wear a scarf when you go into the woods.’

She was full of questions: Where had I been? What happened? Had I received more orders through Giovanni? Did I think the Germans had captured Irini?

That very thought horrified me, and I decided I had to talk to Nathanial about my fears.

My sister was growing quickly, taking on responsibility for our comforts. She and Xanthi had dug a patch in the rich soil and planted tomato pips, and she’d cut the sprouting ends off the potatoes hoping they’d grow too.

‘I’m proud of you, Evangelisa. You’re doing a wonderful job,’ I told her as we went inside.