‘Could you?’ I nodded. ‘I think it’s a good idea.’
‘Do you have any photographs of Nisha on your phone?’ she asked.
I scrolled through and found one. It was a close-up I had taken of Nisha and Aliki on Aliki’s birthday almost a year ago. They were in the garden beneath the tree, Nisha’s arm around Aliki’s shoulder. They were both smiling.
Keti sat down at the computer in the back office and drafted a flyer:
MISSING PERSON
IF ANYONE HAS SEEN THIS WOMAN
PLEASE CALL 9-------
THERE WILL BE A GENEROUS REWARD
She cropped the photograph I had given her to remove Aliki from the photo, and zoomed in on Nisha’s face. Her eyes were arresting: anyone who saw this would recognise her immediately if they’d ever seen her. Nisha’s eyes aren’t something you forget.
Keti printed many copies of the flyer and we split them between us. Even though Keti lived near the university, we thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to show them beyond my neighbourhood.
Before we locked up that night, I thanked Keti heartily.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Nisha was a friend. You don’t have to thank me.’
Soon Nisha’s face stared out of flyers on every street in the area.
*
I was managing to keep my business running smoothly– no small thanks to Keti, who had even begun coming in early to dust and sweep the shop, trying to make up for the cleaning that Nisha would have done. I couldn’t bring myself to hire a new cleaner, not yet. It would feel like an admission that Nisha was really gone.
Life at home, however, was falling apart. My mornings were put back by having to make Aliki breakfast and take her to school, and I had to let Keti open the shop on her own. I would run out after lunch to pick up Aliki, and Mrs Hadjikyriacou would watch her in the afternoons, while I returned to work. I would come back again in the evenings often later than I had planned, due to trying to finish enough work at the shop, squeeze in as many appointments as I could. I was exhausted. I felt like I was failing on all fronts.
At home, Aliki was restless. She would wander around the house, putting on and taking off her Converse trainers. She would match different colours then regret the choice. She’d walk around with one pink shoe, one chequered. Then one green shoe, the other striped. The cat called Monkey followed her around, sniffing her feet, rubbing its face against her hands as she tied the laces. She avoided the garden and I could hardly blame her: the garden was covered in snails. On the boat, particularly, there must have been about thirty, of various sizes, with their glossy shells and nimble eyes at the tips of their tentacles, slithering over the bow and stern, climbing languidly up its hull. After rain, Nisha would have peeled the snails off the boat, one by one, gently so as not to hurt them. But in her absence, nature had taken over.
On Tuesday night I had to stay at work very late. When I got home, it was past nine o’clock and Mrs Hadjikyriacou was asleep in the armchair by the fire. On her lap, with her hands resting on it, was the framed photograph of Stephanos in his military gear. When she heard me, she opened her eyes. The fire was dwindling.
‘Ah, Petra,’ she said. ‘You’re back.’ And then she seemed to remember that she was holding the photograph, and she looked down at it and ran her white fingers over the glass.
‘He was so handsome, wasn’t he?’ she said.
I nodded.
‘And such a kind heart. He would always bring me BBQ when he made it. And do you remember that time he came to pick me up from the airport? It was a Sunday and his only day off, but he came.’
‘I do remember.’
‘I’m sorry, my love,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you don’t want these things darkening your heart right now. I always feel lonelier at night, don’t you?’
I nodded again.
‘You’re lucky you have Aliki. She’s a little genius, that girl. She tells some good stories too. She told me a story from The Mahadenamutta and his Pupils. Fascinating and hilarious!’ She handed me the photograph and slowly got up.
I thanked her for helping me out, for watching Aliki and for staying so late.
‘It’s my pleasure, my love,’ she said, and went home, where I suspect Ruba was waiting up for her.
I found Aliki sleeping on Nisha’s bed with Monkey. In her arms she held the little Buddha that Nisha kept on her bedside cabinet. I didn’t wake her; I put a throw over her and kissed her on the cheek. She didn’t stir. The cat gave me a dirty look for disturbing it and went straight back to sleep.