Chapter 3

The smell of incense filled the air. I inhaled the scent, as I stopped at each Icon, made a cross gesture on my body before kissing the painting of each saint. Once finished, I made the same gesture on the large brass cross with the figurine of Jesus. I stood there, staring at Christ.

“Jesus chose to die because he loved humanity and wanted to save us. To give us the chance to go to Heaven,” Father Petrou said. He appeared next to me. “You weren’t in your room or the garden. I figured you’d be here.”

“I’m sorry Father, I couldn’t sleep. I guess you don’t get many Christians coming to church at this time of the morning.”

“Let’s sit down,” he said. He gestured towards the bench, behind us.

We sat there for a while, savouring the calmness. Father Petrou leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his knees. With his hands together, he folded his fingers into each other, gazing ahead, at the altar in front of us.

After a few moments of silence, Father Petrou spoke, “It was thirty-three years ago. I was seventeen years old at the time. I had just finished secondary school. That is abroad, in Limassol, Cyprus. I wasn’t a very bright student, I just about graduated. I got myself a job in a hotel. I was lucky. It was a five-star hotel, one of the big once on the outskirts of the city. I worked there for a year. I loved every minute. On my days off, I would work overtime. Not for the money in particular. It was because someone special to me was always at the hotel.

He paused for a moment. He had a broad smile on his face. I could see he was miles away.

“I got close to a young lady. In time we fell in love, we made plans for our future. There was one catch though. She was the hotel owner’s daughter. Her family wouldn’t have it, their daughter marrying a waiter. When they found out, I got dismissed on the spot. On top of that, if I tried to contact Gina, there would be more significant consequences. My parents could lose their jobs as well. Gina’s father had much influence with other employers. I couldn’t get employment anywhere. Her father had put out the word that I was no good. I had a relative, who was a priest, my father spoke to him. Before I knew what was happening, I was on my way to a monastery in Paphos.”

I was speechless, lost for words. I didn’t know what to say to Father Petrou. I wanted him to carry on, but I could see, he was in pain, talking of his past.

A few moments later he continued. “Five years went by. I remember the day like it was yesterday. I would have refused to perform the ceremony, but the surname caught me off guard. She went by her marital status. I had a Christening to perform. Gina was baptising her second child. She hadn’t changed much. She was as beautiful as before, even more attractive. My heartache was back. Behind the church gown and long beard, she recognised me. The moment she saw me her eyes became moist. Next day I made an appointment to see the Archbishop of Paphos. I requested a transfer as far away from Cyprus as possible. Wood Green has been my home for the last twenty-seven years.” He wiped his cheek with the sleeve of his garment.

“You didn’t marry when you came to the UK? In our religion, Orthodox priests can get married,” I said.

“In my case, it was difficult, even though I had had the opportunity many times to get married.”

“What was holding you back?” I asked.

“I still love her, as I loved her back then,” he smiled. “Probably till the day I die.” We both sat there in silence, Father Petrou in deep thought.

I wanted to speak to confess, tell him my story, but I didn’t. We had enough drama for one day. I will confess to him on another day.

It took days, weeks to get my strength back, by the Mid-September, I began to jog. I started with two kilometres and gradually increased my distance. By the end of October, I was running ten kilometres every night. The streets surrounding Wood Green shopping centre were dead at two in the morning. The only sound you could hear was my trainers hitting the pavement. I felt the autumn breeze on my face, as I glided along the streets.

When I finished my jog and got back to my sanctuary, I would work on my strength by doing pull-ups, push-ups and free weights, for at least an hour. The cycle I implemented a few years back came back to me instantly. Steadily I was building up my strength.

With Father Petrou, I became very close. Every evening we would cook something to eat together. When we finish our meal, we would enjoy a game of chess. A strategy board game he is trying to teach me. I think he enjoys calling out his favourite word in the game. “Checkmate.”

We rolled into November. The weather was changing. Most of the leaves from the trees had fallen by then. In the summer I worked on my stamina. With winter coming I focused on my strength.

It was a Friday evening, Father Petrou and I finished our meal. I was cleaning up the table when he said, “When you finish, set up the chess board, I’ll be back in five minutes.” He was gone before I could protest.

“That’s right, always run away from washing the dishes!” I called out, hoping he would hear me, I said it in a friendly tone. Like I said we had become terrific friends.

I was sitting at the table, with the chess board in front of me. The horse figurine in my hand, I stared at the chess-board, trying to figure out on which square to place it. All this was still all new to me.

The door slammed open. Father Petrou said, “The first row, second square from the outside on your left and right. That is where you put the horse.”

“I will never get used to putting the pieces on the board,” I said. When I looked away from the chessboard, towards Father Petrou, he stood there with two shopping bags. A Sports Direct bag and a T.K. Maxx bag. Both full to the top, you could see some of the price tags sticking out. “Oh no, you did not do that. You have already done enough for me!” I shouted.

“It’s nothing. Let’s say I am helping a friend. Also, we can’t have you running around Wood Green in shorts, like it’s the middle of summer.” He emptied both bags on the table. “Whatever you don’t like or doesn’t fit, we’ll take it back and change it.” I looked at each peace, getting emotional until my eyes watered up. “Don’t you get sentimental with me,” he said. He picked up a tracksuit bottom, stretching the elastic around the waist. “I think you might need a bigger size here?” he said. We both started laughing.

There were three continuous loud bangs on the door. We both stopped laughing and looked at each other. Father Petrou walked over to the door, opening it slowly. “Mrs... , “ he stuttered not being able to finish saying the name. I couldn’t see who it was. He was blocking the entrance.

He stepped aside.

She stood there looking at me, then at the clothes, scattered on the table. “Hi, Tony,” she said.

I was speechless for a moment. “Maria?” I said. She could barely hear my voice.

She stepped into the room, looked around, at the walls, fixing her vision on the wooden crucifix, then at my face, on the cut on my cheek. I could see the sadness in her eyes.

Father Petrou stepped outside. “I’ll leave you two alone to talk,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“I’m sorry,” I said. Turning around, I began to put all the clothes into the bags.

She came closer and took my arm. I released the items. She pulled me around to face her. She ran her index and middle finger along my cut. Tears were running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry Tony. I shouldn’t have been so harsh towards you. I know you did whatever you could to help Julie.”

We sat and talked. Maria told me, how Julie was doing. She explained to me in detail, regarding Julie’s situation. That her condition was stable and only time will show an improvement. My father-in-law was still furious with me. He never did like me from the first day he met me.