The Gypsy's Dream Read Online Free Page A

thing the girl is sitting on the kerb outside her shop, and another, more compelling reason is if she and Stavros had been able to have children, their child would be – she pauses her thoughts to do the maths – twenty-four. She looks back at the girl, realising just how young she is.
    ‘ Where are your mother and father?’
    ‘ Never had a mum. She died after giving birth to me, haemorrhaged to death.’
    ‘ Hem are itch?’ Stella curls her tongue around the word.
    ‘ Bled to death. Dad’s back in England.’ Her tone is flat.
    ‘ Ah!’ says Stella, “ Aemmoragia ”. Are you here alone?’
    ‘ Yes.’ Abby’s eyes brim with tears again and Stella looks around for the napkins. The girl has them in her hand and she dabs at her eyes.
    ‘ So if we call your Baba, I mean Dad, he will send you money?’ Stella smiles at her insight and this simple solution.
    ‘ No, he probably hasn’t even realised I am gone yet.’
    Stella sees the problem getting bigger. She turns her head but cannot see the clock inside. Stavros could come down any time. Stella has much she must do before he does. The farmers will be hungry …
    ‘ Ahh the sausages!’ Stella exclaims in Greek and runs inside to put the sausages on. She also lays on a split chicken.
    Without really thinking she picks up a bowl of potatoes and sits to begin her peeling in the sun. The girl looks up and Stella nods to the second chair which the girl, after raisi ng herself like a boneless puppy from the pavement, relaxes her growing frame into, tucking her feet under her.
    ‘ So you are away-run?’ Stella returns inside for a piece of newspaper to drop the peel on.
    ‘ You mean a runaway. I suppose I am, but not really. I have a friend who has her own flat, so I am no more a runaway than her.’
    ‘ You have your own flat?’
    ‘ No, I mean …’ But she doesn’t really have the enthusiasm to explain properly.
    ‘ So what will you do?’
    ‘ The only thing I can think to do is to go back into town and try and find work there. I saw a couple of bars.’
    ‘ Ah yes, a good idea. I give you a lift into town.’ Stella puts the bowl down on the pavement, wipes her hands and goes inside to turn the sausages. She looks at the clock. The girl must leave soon. There is Stavros and the chips must be cut.
    Coming back to the pavement, she reflects, ‘No. I cannot drive you now. I must cut the potatoes. He will get very cross if the potatoes are not done. I give you money for the taxi.’ She feels in her apron pocket.
    ‘ No, I wouldn’t dream of it. I have a little money left which I was going to use for my breakfast. I will use that,’ Abby says.
    Stella ’s pocket is empty anyway. She balances the bowl on her knee and peels the potatoes swiftly and carelessly, dropping the peel on the newspaper between her feet.
    Stella puts the knife and the potatoes down and greets a man coming across the road carrying a wooden box. He nods at Abby and calls a cheerful hello to Stella, putting the box on the floor inside the shop before marching back to the bakery. The shop fills with the smell of fresh bread. The aroma drifts out to the pavement and Abby’s stomach growls.
    Stella hacks a loaf in two on the counter with a heavy bread knife. ‘Then I will give you breakfast,’ she says, and hands the half-loaf to Abby and picks out the soft centre of the other half for herself.
    ‘ I will call a taxi now,’ Stella says, chewing with her mouth open. She checks the clock. Time is moving quickly. The sun streaming through the shop’s open door highlights a smear of grease across the clock’s face. She can remember wiping it for the New Year, half a year of grease and dust layered on the splitting plastic face, but it works, so who cares.
    ‘ I guess so, thank you.’ Abby picks up a potato from the pile of those to peel and looks at it without interest.
    ‘ The knife is in the bowl,’ Stella says as she picks up the phone. She turns her back on the world as she