Read Online Lily and the Lost Boy by Paula Fox - Free Book Online Page B

of Turkish coffee and tall, moisture-beaded glasses of very cold water. Lily, crossing the square of an afternoon, had heard the clicking of the amber-beaded circlets that the men moved rapidly through their fingers—worry-beads, the tourists called them—and that were said to calm a restless mind.
    Local people as well as Greeks from the mainland were laughing and gesturing and eating at the tables set out in front of the pastry shop. Next to where the Coreys sat down a whole family watched raptly as a plump little boy about two years old was fed by his mother. After each spoonful of honey cake he crowed like a rooster, and his dark-eyed, black-haired mother would laugh, holding up her head and leaning back so that Lily could see a thin chain of gold closely circling her beautiful, long neck.
    â€œWould you say my neck is long or short, Mom?” Lily asked.
    â€œIt’s sort of retractable, like a turtle’s,” said Paul, grinning.
    â€œFor someone with an acorn for a nose—” Lily began, then stopped. Paul was looking beyond her shoulder, his expression surprised, then joyful. He stood up and waved. The other Coreys turned to see what he had seen.
    â€œWho’s that?” Mr. Corey asked.
    â€œJack,” Paul said somewhat breathlessly. “Mom, he’s the American I told you about. He lives in Panagia.”
    Jack was standing past the last row of tables, his hands in his pockets. He stared at Paul expressionlessly, then gave a curt nod. A dark-haired man had also halted several yards away from Jack and was looking at the Coreys. Paul looked confused as though he didn’t know what to do, sit down again or remain standing.
    â€œMaybe they’ll have coffee with us, fellow-Americans and all that,” said Mr. Corey. He got up and walked toward Jack, Paul following him. Lily noticed that the dark-haired man didn’t come forward but stood absolutely still, poised as though on his toes for a leap.
    â€œWhere did you meet him?” asked Mrs. Corey.
    â€œUp by the acropolis,” Lily answered, keeping her eyes on her plate. It was odd that when you had something to hide, you were at once sure that someone was looking for it.
    Mr. Corey and Paul returned with Jack and his father, and the woman who had served them their desserts brought two more small folding chairs. Jack sat down—reluctantly, it seemed to Lily—next to Paul; his father sat next to Mr. Corey, who asked them what they’d like.
    â€œWe won’t have anything,” the man said in a deep, harsh voice. “We eat much later. I’m Jimmy Hemmings. I gather you know Jack here. Everyone on the island knows us. Strange to meet up with Americans. We thought we were the only ones, didn’t we, Jack?”
    Jack looked up at the sky wordlessly.
    Mr. Hemmings wore a black leather jacket and a black T-shirt. He looked much younger than Mr. Corey. His eyes were a brilliant, piercing blue, and his lashes were as black as his hair.
    Mr. Corey explained how and why they’d come to Thasos. Mr. Hemmings nodded rapidly and muttered uh-huh constantly, as though hurrying Mr. Corey on with his story.
    â€œA teacher. Well. I’ve been a teacher too,” he said when Mr. Corey stopped talking. “I’ve taught languages for one thing. I speak several languages, including Magyar—”
    â€œâ€”You mean Hungarian?” Mr. Corey interjected.
    â€œIf you prefer,” replied Mr. Hemmings somewhat loftily. “We’re here mainly for Jack. I wanted him to see a thing or two before he gets too old to appreciate a foreign country—before prison walls close around the growing boy—and so forth. Also, I’ve been doing a bit of prospecting up in the mountains. There’s more than marble on this island. There’re precious metals and ores. I guess we’ve been here about eight months, wouldn’t you say, Jack?”
    Again the boy said nothing. Mr.