Page 9 of Deep Blue Lies
EIGHT
There’s still time to finish my Mythos though, and there’s still one obvious problem to solve: I only have one more night booked in the hotel, and even with a job I can’t afford to stay there much longer. So since I’m on a roll, I ask Hans again.
“You don’t happen to know of any rooms to rent do you? Here in Skalio?”
He fixes me a look, like somehow the fact I don’t even have somewhere to stay yet means I’ve tricked him.
“Not much about, this time of year.”
“OK.” I try not to feel disappointed. It had already occurred to me that I might need to find somewhere in Kastria, the island’s main town, and get a bus down here.
“I have a friend though. He lets out some apartments. In the back of town.”
I feel a surge of hope. “In Skalio?”
“Of course in Skalio, where else?” I don’t know what this means exactly, but I don’t get time to consider it.
“He’s a good guy. Klaus. He comes from Germany, like me.”
“OK.” I wait, again, while Hans seems to consider a little longer, like maybe he’s made a mistake .
“You have a handy? A mobile phone?” He pulls out his and reads out a number, then adds me to his contacts.
“I’ll give him a message, tell him you’re looking,” Hans says. We agree too that I’ll do my first shift the next afternoon, so I can get used to the bar before it gets too busy at the weekend.
I head back to the hotel feeling pretty pleased with how things have gone.
I’m hungry though, so soon I head out again.
All the restaurants are open now, some with waiters outside trying to draw the wandering tourists in.
I feel a bit self-conscious, being here on my own, but the smells are incredible.
In the end I pick the cheapest-looking place, and I order a moussaka, with a salad and a glass of wine.
Sometimes, when Mum is in a good mood, she cooks moussaka at home, and I’ve always loved the richness and the soft aubergines, but this one is way better than anything I’ve tasted before.
It’s a bit more expensive than I can really afford, but it’s been a good day, and I don’t care.
It is weird though, eating alone. I realise at one point that I’ve never done this before.
And I do feel eyes on me. A couple sat a few tables away, a man and a woman.
I sense her judging me, somehow disapproving, like it’s my fault her husband is glancing over at me when he thinks she’s not looking.
Klaus texts me at eight the next morning, just before I head down to breakfast again in the hotel.
I arrange to meet him at eleven, in front of what turns out to be one of the less-than-attractive apartment blocks where the bus dropped me off.
I had to check out of the hotel by ten-thirty, so I have my backpack with me, and already my T-shirt is wet with sweat.
At ten past eleven there’s still no sign of Klaus, and I check several times that I have the right place, but he sent a location on WhatsApp, so if it’s wrong, it’s not my fault.
At twenty past eleven he finally turns up, a wiry, skinny guy who doesn’t stop sniffing.
Like he’s got a cold. Or he’s half-fox. He doesn’t say anything about being late.
“You’re Ava,” he tells me, like I wasn’t sure. His eyes run me up and down, and he gives a visible shrug, like I’ve passed some test.
“Apartment’s just here.” He pulls a huge set of keys from the pockets of his camouflage combat trousers, still sniffing, while he tries to find the right one. I get the sense that, if Hans says he’s a good guy, that might mean my new employer isn’t the most reliable judge of character.
The apartment is on the ground floor. I hoped it might be higher, perhaps with a view of the sea, or at least a glimpse. But when we go inside, I see this apartment only faces the bins and scrubland at the back of town.
“You’re lucky Hans called me,” Klaus tells me, as we pause in the main room.
It’s small, dingy, the walls stained yellow rather than painted.
“Very little accommodation in Skalio this time of year. Apart from this, nothing.” There’s a smell too, old fried food.
I try to look for the positives. It’s dark because the windows are small, but also because they’re covered with semi-translucent netting, I suppose to keep the heat of the summer out. I could always take it down.
“One bedroom, comes furnished,” Klaus shows me. “And you have your own toilet.” He says this like I ought to consider it a major perk. “Super good location too. Close to the bus station.”
“How much is it?” I ask, trying to see if I can stomach living here. It’s not exactly nice. But after three years in Sunderland student digs, I’ve definitely seen worse.
He sucks air through his teeth. “High season coming up…” This seems to pain him, and he shakes his head. “I could fill this place with tourists. Easy.”
“Really?” I seriously doubt this, but I back off as a look of annoyance crosses his face. “What’s the price?” I ask again instead.
He sniffs. “Because you come from Hans…” He seems to calculate in his mind. “Five hundred a month.”
I actually have no idea if this is a good deal or not. But I have my bag on my back, nowhere else to go, and no other leads to follow. Plus I have to work in the bar, starting almost now .
“Can you do it for four hundred?”
It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile.
“You’re kidding, right? For a place in Skalio? With a view of the mountains?” He lifts the net curtain, then has to rub at the pane of glass to see through the grime. Politely I move closer to see the view. You can see the mountains, if you look beyond the bins.
“Four fifty?”
“Uh huh. Five hundred, and I need an answer now. Got someone else coming to look this afternoon.”
Like hell he has.
Klaus looks at his watch, and sniffs again, and I have to make a decision. It’s a pretty shitty place, but I can always find somewhere better, once I get myself more established.
“Can I pay weekly? I only have enough to do that right now, but I have a job.” After a moment I add: “with Hans.”
He shrugs, like this isn’t an issue for him.
“No problem.”
“OK.” I nod, expecting to feel a buzz of success, but it doesn’t come. Instead I get a sense that this might be another mistake. But I push it back down, refusing to listen.
“Alright great. I’ll take it.”