Fillets of Plaice, by Gerald Durrell Read Online Free PDF Page A

have been an immediate response to his cry of “good morning”. Some would have said, “We are glad you have come”, others, “
herete
”, which means “be happy”, and others have responded with “
kalimera
”. Instead, there was no reaction except that one or two of the older men bowed their heads gravely in our direction.
    “Well, now,” said Mactavish, “let's get a few tables together, have a few drinks, and once they get used to us I'm sure they'll rally round.”
    “I don't think I really like it,” said Mother nervously. “Don't you think that Margo, Leonora and I ought to go back to the boat? I mean, it's all men and no women.”
    “Oh, nonsense, Mother. Stop fussing,” said Larry.
    “I think,” said Theodore glancing up lovingly at the huge umbrella pine above us, “I think that's why that small boy ran into the village. In some of these remoter villages, you know, the women have to stay in the houses. And so he went, you know, to warn them. Also the sight of, um… um… er… er…, the er… ladies of the party must be er…, you know, um…, unusual to them.”
    As Mother, Margo and Leonora were not wearing yashmaks and Margo and Leonora were wearing rather dashing cotton dresses which left a considerable portion of their anatomy visible, this was not altogether surprising.
    We joined several tables together, placed chairs around them and sat down. The groups of men who, contrary to Larry's expectations, outnumbered us by about five to one, continued to sit there silently, gazing at us as impassively as lizards. After waiting for some considerable time, making rather haphazard conversation, an elderly man shuffled out of the cafe and came with obvious reluctance to our table. By now thoroughly unnerved, we all said
kalimera
in unison with various degrees of nervous enthusiasm. To our infinite relief, he said
kalimera
back.
    “Now,” said Mactavish, who rather prided himself on his command of the Greek language, “we'll have a little drink and some
meze
.”
    It should have been unnecessary for him to add the request for
meze
, for this includes things like olives, nuts, hard-boiled eggs, cucumber, cheese, and similar little plates which, if you ordered a drink in Greece, were automatically served. But it seemed in the circumstances that even an ex-Mountie was beginning to become slightly rattled.
    “Yes,” said the cafe owner gravely. “What drink would you require?”
    Mactavish took orders for our drinks, which ranged from ginger beer through ouzo to brandy and retsina. He translated all this to the cafe owner.
    “I have only red wine,” said the cafe owner.
    An exasperated look spread across Mactavish's face.
    “Well then, bring us red wine and
meze
,” he said.
    The cafe owner gave a little nod of his head and shuffled back to the interior of his gloomy little shop.
    “Now why,” asked Mactavish, “should he ask me what we wanted to drink when he knew perfectly well he'd only got red wine?”
    Mactavish loved the Greeks dearly and had taken the trouble to speak their language quite fluently, but he could never quite come to terms with their logic.
    “It's perfectly obvious,” said Larry exasperatedly. “He wanted to find out what you wanted to drink and if you had wanted red wine he would have gone and got it for you.”
    “Yes, but why not just say he's got red wine in the first place and nothing else?”
    “But that doesn't happen in Greece,” Larry explained patiently. “It's too logical.”
    We sat at our table with all those inimical eyes fastened on us, feeling rather like a group of actors on a stage who had all simultaneously forgotten their lines. Presently the old man shuffled out, carrying a battered tin tray which bore upon it, for some obscure reason, a portrait of Queen Victoria. He placed on the table some little plates of small black olives and chunks of white goat cheese, two flagons of wine and a series of glasses that, although clean, were so chipped and worn with use that they looked as though they