As the early light streamed in through her window, Nikoletta struggled to get out of bed. Her body ached. Sadness flooded through her. The thought of another day to get through filled her with dread. She couldn't remember a time when she had been happy. She knew that, once, she had been, but now it just seemed like a distant memory. As she put on her dressing gown, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her deeply lined face showed more than her 70 years. Her short, unbrushed hair was completely gray. Her sad looking eyes had very pronounced bags below them. All things considered, after all the hardships she had had to endure, she was surprised she didn't look even worse. She tried to stand up straight, but her body now seemed to be bent over permanently. Ahead of her was another hard day's work, digging up potatoes from her garden. Potatoes. She didn't even like potatoes. When her Anastasios was still alive, they had never even eaten potatoes. Now with the economic crisis in Greece, her pension had been cut, twice. She didn't get anywhere enough money to live on, so she had had to adapt to a new way of living. Her new way of survival. Without a good supply of potatoes, to get her through the winter, she wouldn't be able to afford to eat, and pay for her bills, especially the heating cost. She lived a couple of kilometres outside of the village of Kodris, in the mountains of central Greece. It was a very isolated, cold area. The temperature in winter was always well below zero overnight, and barely reached 12 degrees during the day. She prepared her frugal breakfast of coffee, and a few dried biscuits. At the thought of another day to struggle through, Nikoletta broke down in tears. At 70 years old, she felt that her life was already over. Really, for her, it had ended six years earlier. Giorgios, her son, had moved his family to England, to start a new life. There he hoped they would have the promise of a better future for them all. Nikoletta knew that it had been a wise thing to do, God knows they would have had no future in Greece. But she felt unbearable sadness at the thought of not seeing her grandson grow up. When she had last seen Andreas, he had been just two years old, now he would be eight. She had missed out on seeing him grow, and being a part of his life. She cried most mornings. Waking up to another lonely day was totally devastating for her. The quietness, and solitude, would echo around the rooms of her house. Her empty house reminded her of just how empty her life now was. When Giorgios first moved away, he would phone her regularly, but as the years went by, the calls became less frequent. When he did phone, she had to speak to Andreas in English. He hadn't learned to speak Greek. Luckily, Nikoletta could speak English fairly well, not perfectly, but enough to get by. It always felt strange to her, speaking to her grandson in a different language. He no longer even like being called Andreas, now they called him Andrew. Nikoletta couldn't bear the thought of not seeing him, not watching him grow, and being a part of his life. He will never really know her. She cried quietly to herself. How could life have been so unkind to her? Her husband died many years ago, of a heart attack. Her other child, Alexandra, died when she was just ten years old, she had drowned in a nearby lake. Nikoletta has had to shoulder so much pain, in her life. She didn't know from where she got the strength to carry on. She couldn't understand what was even the point of carrying on. If she would just die, it would be so much better. The thought of living, as she did, the constant struggle, just filled her with sadness. The solitude, the emptiness of her life, was just unbearable. She dried the tears from her eyes. The mornings were already quite cold, being early autumn, but Nikoletta wouldn't put on the heating until she really needed to. Before starting work on the potatoes, she had to feed the chickens. The eggs they gave her were an essential part of her diet. She used them to make pasta, something she greatly preferred to potatoes. She put on heavy work clothes, and went outside. One side of her property was bordered by the road from Kodris going up, further into the mountains. The house itself was a small, solid, well built structure. It was showing it's age, but Nikoletta kept it well maintained, both inside, and out. Behind the house, she had a very large garden, running back along the road for around fifty metres. She tried to grow as much food as she could, and followed the growing seasons. After feeding her chickens, and taking the eggs inside, she got out her garden fork. With a heavy heart she walked over to the potato field. The ground was cold, and hard. It was such back breaking work, for her, to dig up the potatoes. She worked slowly, trying to minimise the pain on her back. All she knew, in those days, was pain. Both physical, and emotional. She struggled along the row of potatoes. When, by accident, she stepped on a potato, she slipped to the ground, landing heavily on her side. Angrily, she grabbed the potato, and threw it as far as she could. She sat there, on the cold dirt, and cried quietly. This wasn't living. It just all seemed like some kind of punishment to her. How had her life come to this? Was this all she could look forward to? The only thing that got her through the day was knowing that she would visit her Alexandra, and Anastasios, in the afternoon. The cemetery was about a two kilometre walk from her house, but she didn't mind that one bit. Each step would take her closer to her loved ones. The day, as all other days, just never seemed to pass. The work was endless, and hard. At least by concentrating on her work, she tried to forget her sadness for a while. Each time she would have a basket of potatoes ready, she would then have to carry it over to the house, and down into her cellar. In the dark, cool air of the cellar, the potatoes would last longer. Even though she used a small basket, it was heavy work, and she proceeded slowly. By the time lunchtime came around, Nikoletta was almost too exhausted to eat. She rested a while, trying to relieve the pain in her back, before making something to eat. Her lunch, as ever, was a simple affair. Pasta salad, with a couple of hard-boiled eggs. The best part of her day was getting closer. Before leaving for the cemetery, she cleaned the house a bit. She hated the thought of having a disorderly house. Nikoletta tried to keep up the appearance, in front of other people, of a normal life. She tried to give no signs of just how overwhelmed with despair she always felt. She tried to keep her pain hidden from others. Soon, she would be with her loved ones. In autumn, the walk to the cemetery was very pleasant. A lot of the trees were changing colours, and the array of different colours was absolutely beautiful. The sadness in her started to subside. The afternoon weather was warm, and the surrounding hills had a lovely green colour to them. The road winded around the hills, following the valley. Along the road she saw no one. The only houses she passed had long since been abandoned, with their owners looking for a better, easier life, elsewhere. The cemetery itself was Nikoletta's favourite place. It was a relatively small cemetery, but very well maintained. It rested on the side of a gently sloping hill, so you could see the headstones from the road as you approached. The gravestones were surrounded by lovely trees of different types, and colours, putting the cemetery in a very pretty setting. In death her family lay in the middle of great beauty, and peace. As usual, as soon as she rounded the last corner, and the cemetery came into view, she would wave, and call out:
'Here I am! Did you miss me, my loves?'
She hurried to their grave. When Alexandra had died, they had made her a very large grave plot. So luckily, when her husband had died, she had been able to bury him next to Alexandra. Nikoletta loved the fact that they were together. In death now, no one could separate them. She couldn't wait until she, too, was with them. She wished she could just lie down and join them. The unbearable sadness that consumed her would be gone. It would all be so much better. She tidied up the already perfectly maintained grave.
'Anastasios, it's all just so hard! How can I live like this? Please, take me with you!'
She lay on the grave of her loved ones, and wept. She lay there, weeping, until she had no more tears to cry. The afternoon sun was edging ever closer to the horizon, so she knew she had better start off for home, before it got dark. This was the part she hated the most. Leaving Anastasios, and Alexandra. The only people who brought joy into her miserable life.
'I'll be back tomorrow, my dears! I'll never forget you. I'll never abandon you! Goodbye, my darlings, I love you both so much!'
The walk home, as usual, was cruel. Her heart remained back at the cemetery. Physically, by this time of the day, it was very difficult for her to walk the two kilometres. Going to the cemetery always felt easy, with the anticipation of seeing her loved ones, but returning home, on the other hand, was always incredibly hard on her. It was on the return journey, after leaving her loved ones, that she would always think about how lonely she was. She hardly ever saw anyone from Kodris, she didn't live that far from the town, but she had no form of transport. Her few friends were always busy looking after their grandchildren, and cleaning their children's houses. That was something Nikoletta would love to be doing as well. That's what you were supposed to be doing at her age. Not struggling, endlessly, on your own. As she took step, after step, she wondered how long she could continue in this way. Was there any point to her going on? Was a life of pain, and solitude, worth living? She served no purpose to anyone. What was the point of her existence? She had no role in society. As far back as she could remember, she had been a wife, a mother, she had things to do, and people to look after. Her role, now, should be like that of her friends. She should be looking after her grandson, helping her son. Her role in life should be, as it always had been, to be part of the family, not just vising dead loved ones in the cemetery. Living on her own, with no one to help, just seemed to her to be a pointless existence. It was a life passing, leaving behind no trace. A life serving no purpose to anyone. It was a needless life, filled only with loneliness, and despair. As darkness fell, she arrived at her house. She could hear the phone ringing, so she hurried inside, to answer.
'Hello?'
'Hi mum! How are you? It's good to hear you.'
'Giorgios! Oh, Giorgios, it's so good to hear from you. How is Andreas, and Eleni?'
'We are all fine, mum. What about you? How are things with you?'
'Oh, just the usual, nothing new here. Everything is fine. Is Andreas there?'
'Sorry, mum, he's off playing soccer. He's getting to be a pretty good player, you would be proud of him. I'll make sure he is here, the next time I call.'
'Do you think you will be able to visit soon?'
'I'm not sure, mum. Money is pretty tight, these days. My job doesn't pay much, and Helen just works part-time. It's all very expensive here. You wouldn't believe what I just spent for a new pair of soccer boots, for Andy. Hopefully next year, mum.'
'I understand. Well, I will tell your father, and Alexandra, that you called. They always love hearing about you.'
'Ok, mum, I'll call again soon, I promise. Bye!'
'Bye, my dear!'
Nikoletta hung up the phone, and collapsed on a chair, weeping. She felt like she would never see any of them again. She didn't even know who they were, anymore. Helen, and Andy? They now had new names. She felt like she had lost everyone. She had no one in her life anymore. Her life was totally empty. All she had was her suffering. Her life felt so meaningless, so grueling. How could she go on like this? She felt the heavy weight of solitude descend on her. Sometimes her total isolation made her feel even physically ill. After a light dinner she went to bed early, hoping to block out her pain by sleeping. At least when she slept, she didn't suffer.
When the next morning came, Nikoletta woke up to the emptiness of her house, and her life. She knew she had to get out of bed, but she just lay there, and cried, for a bit. She felt the burden of yet another day ahead of her. Her back ached from the previous day's potato digging, so she decided she would have to leave the potatoes for another day. She just couldn't manage it, with such a painful back. It was crucial for Nikoletta to harvest those potatoes. Over the winter months she would be able to swap some of her potatoes, with other people from Kodris. She would barter her potatoes for other food items, such as olives, or pickled fish. A lot of people, in Greece's new economy, stocked up on whatever they could get, in abundance, in order to swap with others, for other types of food. People would grow different things, preserve them, and then swap them for other goods. What was unheard of just a few short years ago, was now common practise. When you didn't have much money, you needed to invent other ways of getting by. A new economy, based on trading, had grown rapidly. While potatoes weren't really a traditional Greek food, in the harsh winter people would trade for whatever vegetables they could get. In this way, she would be able to afford to both eat, and pay all her bills, or at least, that was what she hoped. When you are living on such a small pension, it doesn't take much to throw out your balance. One small extra cost could be disastrous to her monthly budget. Painfully, Nikoletta got out of bed, and prepared herself for the new day. At least she would see her friend Elektra that morning. She was going to bring her out some groceries, and if she had time, stop in for a cup of coffee. Before Elektra's visit, Nikoletta wanted to make sure the house was tidy. She had always prided herself on keeping a clean house, and even though her life felt so empty, she didn't want to let things go. In the back of her mind she knew that if she started to let things slide, they would soon fall apart completely. Even though she didn't know why she bothered to keep the house in good shape, or for who, the thought of becoming a slovenly person terrorised her. It felt like she was on a precipice, and, with just one little step, she could slip into the abyss. Above all else, she wanted to hold onto the semblance of normality. If things started to slip, she would soon find herself not being able to get out of bed in the mornings. It seemed odd to her, that in her empty, sad world, she still cared what others thought about her. Or, maybe, she did it for the memory of her Anastasios? She didn't really understand why, but she knew it was important to maintain a dignified front, and to carry on with what little strength she could muster. Nikoletta didn't want people to realise how sad she was. She kept her desperation hidden, and maintained a false facade. For as long as she could, she would dig out whatever strength she could, and she would pretend to be living a worthwhile life. She would pretend that her life had some purpose. Shortly after 10 o'clock she heard a car pull up outside her house. She rushed outside to greet her friend.
'Hello, Elektra, what a cold morning it was today! How are you?'
'You wouldn't believe it! I've never been so busy in my life! At my age! Those two grandkids are running me off my feet. You don't know how lucky you are to have such peace and quiet, I'll tell you.'
They both entered the house, and Elektra put a cardboard box, full of groceries, on the kitchen table. Elektra was a solid looking woman, around the same age as Nikoletta, with an ever present smile. Her face showed some lines of age, but her skin was smooth. With her long, straight hair dyed black, and her nice clothes, she looked many years younger than her friend. Quite probably, because life had been kinder to her.
'Was the hundred Euros enough?' asked Nikoletta.
'Yes, here's your change. It was plenty.'
She put the leftover money on the table, next to the groceries.
'I'll put the coffee on, if you have time.'
'Thanks, Niky, that would be lovely. I am so tired! Those little rascals are killing me. Have you heard from Giorgios?'
'Yes! He phoned last night. They are all doing well. Apparently, Andreas is becoming a good soccer player, I'm so proud of him.'
Nikoletta poured out two cups of coffee.
'You are very lucky. You must be so happy, knowing that they are building a new future for themselves. Things are just getting worse, and worse here. None of us has a future! Greece is ruined. We will never get out from under this crisis.'
Nikoletta smiled at her friend.
'Yes, Giorgios has done a good thing, especially for Andreas.'
As she said it, she felt a stab of pain through her heart. While it was devastating for her, she knew that, in fact, it was the only way to guarantee a bright future for Andreas. For Andreas to prosper, she had to endure this painful existence.
'You know, they call him Andrew, now.'
Elektra laughed.
'Andrew! Well, I guess they have to adapt to their new country. Andrew! Who would have thought, when we were young, that it would all have come to this. That goddamn Euro! That's what ruined us, joining the rich man's club, when we weren't rich. Before we changed to the Euro, we could all afford to live well. Wages were never very high, but everyone had more than enough to live on. People were happy, do you remember? Now, all people talk about is how bad things are, and how much worse they are going to get. I don't know where we are going.'
The two of them finished drinking their coffees, in silence. Each to her own thoughts. Nikoletta sighed.
'Yes, they are definitely better off, the hell out of here.'
After seeing her friend off, Nikoletta slumped in a chair. She couldn't deny it. Giorgios had done a good thing. There really hadn't been any other options open to him. Tears started streaming down her face. She lowered her face into her hands, and sobbed, quietly. After crying for a while, she pulled herself together. She looked at the photo of Alexandra, hanging on the wall. Her beautiful little girl. If she hadn't died she would be 42 years old. Probably she would have had a family, and a full life of her own. However, for Nikoletta, she would always be ten years old. Her little girl. Her beautiful little girl. None of it was fair, but she just didn't know who to blame. Both her children were far away from her. She knew she must never give up, she had to remain strong through it all. Teetering on the edge, as she was, she knew that if she didn't hold herself together, the cracks in her life would grow, and rip her apart. It felt to her as if it would only take a small push, and she would fall over the edge. If that happened, she knew there would be no coming back. She barely had the strength to carry on as it was. If she fell over the edge, her life would disintegrate. She thought about her friend. How ironic life could be. Elektra seemed to envy her peaceful life, and the fact that Giorgios had managed to start a new life with his family, in a better place. Nikoletta, on the other hand, envied her, with her grandchildren to look after, and her children living nearby. It seemed to her to be one of the great ironies of life. Her friend, who had it all, envied her, who had nothing. As she prepared her frugal lunch, she thought about how much her life had changed, as a direct result of her country's failed economy. The politicians, and bankers, seemed to be still living the good life. The real burden of Greece's failure was borne on the shoulders of the common people. People like her. People who had had no part in deciding their countries path, were now bearing the full brunt of the failure, caused by those decisions. None of it seemed fair to her. Nikoletta had stopped watching the television news shows completely. Everything they said just made her feel angry. Everyone was blaming everyone else, for Greece's failure, but no one had any real solutions. While they were just talking, endlessly, Greece just went from bad to worse. She couldn't stand to listen to them any more. She knew that there would be no solutions in what remained of her lifetime.
That afternoon, Nikoletta decided to walk to Lake Klistas, where her beautiful Alexandra had drowned, all those years before. It was about three kilometres from her house, further up the road towards the mountains. She didn't really like going there, but she knew that occasionally she should, to keep the memory of her once happy family alive. As she walked along the road, towards the lake, she thought of how much she hated seeing the great beauty of the lake, which had brought her such pain. The lake was small, shaped like a basin, and on three sides it was surrounded by tall hills covered in trees. The beauty of the place was beyond description. Nikoletta could never understand how such great beauty could have caused such great pain. Anastasios used to take all the family there, through the summer months, for picnics, and swimming. Before Alexandra's tragic death, it had been a place of great joy to all the family. Now it just evoked memories of great heartbreak. When Nikoletta arrived at the carpark, she was surprised to see a car there. The lake was usually well frequented through the summer months, but by autumn, with the colder weather, and frigid water, there was usually no one there. As she walked out towards the lake front, she saw what looked like a young man, standing looking at the lake. Virtually as soon as he came into her view, he started walking, fully dressed, into the cold water. At first Nikoletta didn't understand what was happening, but, as the young man went deeper, and deeper, into the water, a realisation dawned over her. He was committing suicide. A rush of anger went through her body. She couldn't stand the thought of someone willingly wanting to die, in the lake that had taken her sweet little angel. It felt to her like he was desecrating a sacred place. The anger gave her strength, and she rushed into the cold water. By the time she reached the young man, he had already disappeared, under the water. She dove under the water, where she had last seen him, grabbed him, by his clothes, and pulled him back up, out of the water. As he surfaced he gasped, deeply, for breath. Neither spoke a word as Nikoletta dragged him back to the shoreline. They both collapsed on the pebbly beach. After a few moments of struggling to breathe regularly, the young man turned to Nikoletta and said, in English:
'Why did you stop me? You should have left me to die.'
The anger in Nikoletta had now passed, after the great physical effort she had made to pull the young man from the lake, she was now exhausted.
'My daughter drowned in this lake. I couldn't let anyone else die here. Not here.'
The young man looked at her, and started to cry. Nikoletta, now that her anger had passed, could see that he was in great pain. Something that she was rather an expert on. Her heart went out to him. She put her hand on his shoulder.
'Why do you want to kill yourself?'
'It's that....she left me. I just can't....I see her everywhere. I just can't take it. All I think about is her. It's too much. I just can't....'
He was sobbing uncontrollably. He looked so young, to feel such pain. He could only have been in his mid thirties. He was a slim man, with short, dark hair. With his blue eyes, he was a handsome looking man. Nikoletta put her arms around him, and held him tightly.
'Hey, come on. You're young. You will find someone else. You can't kill yourself for something like that.'
'I love her so much. I see her everywhere. I just can't take it. It's too much. She doesn't want to be with me.'
'Listen, you better drive us to my place, fast. We are both freezing. If we don't get warmed up, we will both get pneumonia. You don't want to kill me too, do you?'
The young man was not worried about his plight, but on hearing Nikoletta's words, he realised the danger he had put her in.
'No, of course not. You're right. I'm very sorry. Come on, let's go. I'll drive you home.'
They both stood up, and helped each other to his car. Their soaking wet clothes were freezing cold. Nikoletta's body almost felt numb with the cold. Nikoletta pointed out the direction, and in a short time, they were at her house. Nikoletta showed the young man to the bathroom.
'Get in the shower, warm yourself up, and I will bring you in some dry clothes.'
'No, you go first, really, you are such a nice person. What you did for me was very heroic. Please, I can wait.'
'Ok, but go into that bedroom, take off your wet things, and put this bathrobe on.'
Nikoletta had a quick shower, under the hot water. She didn't waste too much time. She didn't want the young man to suffer the cold for too long. She quickly finished, and showed him where everything was. While he was in the shower, Nikoletta found him some clothes that Giorgios had left there. After a short while, the two of them were sitting at the kitchen table, warmed up, and drinking a hot cup of tea.
'What was your daughter's name?'
'Alexandra. What about you? What's your name? I'm Nikoletta.'
'I'm very sorry about Alexandra. My name is Andrew.'
On hearing his name, Nikoletta laughed loudly. Then, as the last echo of her laughter faded away, she felt a strange feeling come over her. Had she just laughed? The sound of her laughter sounded almost foreign, reverberating around her house. It was a house where no laughter had been heard, for many years. Could she still laugh? Was that still possible? While Nikoletta dealt with the ramifications of having heard herself laugh, Andrew looked at her inquisitively.
'Oh, I'm sorry, Andrew, let me explain.'
Nikoletta explained to Andrew about her son's move to England, and the transformation of her grandson's name from Andreas, to Andrew.
'Maybe you should call me Andreas, then.'
That made them both laugh. Nikoletta felt very strange laughing, but, from deep inside her, she realised that it felt good. She couldn't understand where the urge to laugh was coming from. Maybe it was caused by a release of the tension, after the dramatic events that had taken place at the lake. In any case, she decided to just enjoy it.
'Listen, Andreas,' she said with a laugh, 'I will cook us up some hot dinner. Do you like potatoes?'
'Hey, I'm English, what do you think?'
They both burst out laughing, again. It seemed incredible to Nikoletta that, so shortly after an attempted suicide, they could be laughing so much. It felt so good, she decided not to question it. Strangely enough, she hadn't enjoyed herself so much, in years. Many years. Nikoletta turned on the heating in the house, and started to prepare dinner.
'Do you want to tell me about the woman who left you, Andrew?'
'Not really. Not yet, anyway. Maybe never. We'll see.'
'That's alright. If you want to, feel free to. If you don't want to, that's alright too. To be honest, I'm not sure how much advice an old Greek woman could give to you anyway.'
'Thanks Nikoletta. Listen, don't sell yourself short. You are a very nice person. Actually, I'm a bit surprised that you aren't angry with me, for having tried to kill myself.'
Nikoletta looked at Andrew. If anyone could understand suffering, it was her. As she prepared dinner, she told Andrew of the hardships she faced, and how sad her life was. She let it all out, as she had never done before, with anyone. It felt good to finally put into words, all the pain she had held inside. It was good to tell it all to someone. It felt very therapeutic. She had been holding onto it all for far too long. The pain had just kept on building up inside her, with no release. As she recounted all her hardships, she could begin to feel the sadness leaving her body. She felt a strange sensation come over her. She couldn't really understand what it was she was feeling. Then it hit her. She felt happy. As the realisation of feeling happy came to her, she almost felt guilty. It almost felt as if she no longer had the right to feel happy. Nikoletta hadn't felt so many differing emotions for so long, she felt very confused. She looked at Andrew, and thought of him, floating dead, in the lake. She looked at the photo of Alexandra, on the wall. Alexandra looked down at her, smiling. It seemed to Nikoletta like Alexandra was thanking her for not letting another person drown in the lake. She burst into tears. Andrew jumped up, and put his arms around her.
'I can't begin to understand all you have been through, but I can certainly help you a bit around the house. I can dig up the rest of those potatoes for you, and prepare the garden for winter. It would be good for me, too, to have some purpose in life.'
Nikoletta wiped the tears from her eyes, and smiled at him.
'Thanks, that would be a big help, really. With my back, I just can't manage, anymore. I really need that potato crop, to get me through winter.'
Nikoletta finished preparing dinner for them. They both ate in silence, each reflecting on the days events. After finishing dinner, Nikoletta washed the dishes. Andrew got up, and started to dry them.
'That's alright, don't worry, I will do it, Andrew.'
'No, really Nikoletta, let me help. I want to.'
'Fine. Where are you from, precisely?'
'I was born, and raised in Swindon, but after going to university in Oxford, I moved to Portsmouth, down on the coast.'
'Is it nice there? I've never been to England.'
'Yeah, it's not bad. I was working as a computer technician for the yacht racing. Really I had studied applied physics, but actually, out in the real world, there's not a lot of that around!'
'I don't think there's a lot of that in Kodris, either.'
They looked at each other, and smiled.
'Unfortunately, I soon realised that I had wasted a lot of my time.'
'Listen, Andrew, don't be so negative. It's a great achievement to have studied. You should be proud of that.'
'Yeah, I guess.'
Nikoletta felt very tired