The Gypsy's Dream Read Online Free

knees to her chest.
    ‘ No problem.’ Stella tries to sound cheerful. ‘I will drive you back to port and you can go to the Saros.’
    The girl does not move.
    ‘No problem, I will drive you.’ Stella finishes her coffee with a lot of dry sucks, getting the last of the froth. But still the girl does not move. Stella takes a step towards her, hesitates, and then takes one back before committing herself and crouching down beside her.
    ‘ What is the problem?’ Stella asks. She peers under the girl’s hair which hangs lankly over her face.
    The girl sniffs. Stella jumps up and skips into the shop, grabs a handful of paper napkins and hands them to the tourist as she crouches beside her again. The girl looks up from her knees, her eyes wide and wet with tears. She looks so young. Stella can feel her heart reaching out to her. She puts her arm around the girl’s shoulders.
    ‘ Tell me.’
    ‘ I’ve been stupid,’ the girl says. ‘I only had enough money to get to the job on Saros.’
    Stella sucks in her breath. This is tough. Stella has no money in the till. Again. She is not sure when Stavros empties it but it is becoming a more and more regular event. How does he expect the place to keep running i f there is no money to even pay the butcher? He keeps saying they need to earn more, but for what?
    A crowd of thoughts presses to the forefront of Stella ’s mind. Her eyes widen, her pulse begins to race. Stavros’ obsession with tourists; he will want to take this girl in as a worker. He will think she is the answer to all his business dreams. This is not good. Things are unsteady enough between them and this would be a terrible burden to place on the girl, who is so young. Besides, he would also take advantage of her position and pay her next to nothing.
    Under these thoughts is an angular, acid emotion. She recognises it, she cannot fool herself. It would only be a matter of time before he would want to prove his manhood in one way or another with this poor unsuspecting girl if she were to work for them.
    ‘ How old are you?’ Stella asks as gently as she can.
    ‘ Sixteen.’ The girl still sniffs and studies her sandals, wiping the dust from them around her toes. Her nails are bright pink.
    The girl is just a teenag er. When Stella was first married there were rumours. Rumours about Stavros, about him before they were a couple. Rumours that he had been pushing his affections onto some girl who was too young. It wasn’t the old, old days when people were married as young teenagers: these were the days of George Michael and Michael Jackson. She can remember the posters on her wall. It had come as a shock to Stella, the dirty looks he received when they moved to his village after they were married. The gossip behind his back, the sudden silences when she walked into the village shop. The sympathetic looks she received, with her being so small and childlike herself. None of it matched the image she had of her hero. He had made her laugh and changed the subject when she asked him to reassure her. The gossip subsided when she was introduced as his wife in church that first Sunday. After that he had been so attentive in public no one could doubt his love for her. It silenced them all. She had touched on the subject a few years later, but he was not so jovial then and it was clear the matter was closed.
    No, he must not meet this girl even if these rumours were never true. There is enough tension between them without adding a new dimension.
    For the girl’s sake and her own sake Stavros must not know she has been here.
    ‘ What is your name?’
    ‘ Abby.’ The girl lifts her head and looks at Stella. ‘You?’
    Despite her worries Stella is also excited to be living out one of her English lessons. ‘Stella. I am very pleased to meet you.’ She grins. This was lesson one.
    The girl smiles back. ‘I am pleased to meet you too.’
    Stella cannot think what to do next. She cannot abandon the poor child. For one