He Thought I Was Charming, Then I Found Out Who He Really Was novel · Chapter 2 of 3
Chapter 2: The Back Room of the Pharmacy
Sophia takes Alex to Despina’s pharmacy for treatment, where the patients question his work and money, Despina connects his watch to Sophia’s father, and Alex refuses to explain his sudden poverty before leaving.
‘So you’re the drowned rat Sophia dragged in.’
Kyria Despina says it before Sophia has finished opening the pharmacy door.
The back room is full. Three elderly patients sit beneath the shelves of blood-pressure medicine, and two fishermen wait beside a table covered with bandages. Every face turns toward me.
Sophia keeps one hand around my uninjured elbow.
‘He has a cut on his hand,’ she says. ‘It needs cleaning.’
‘He needs a towel first. He is dripping on my floor.’
‘That is sea water.’
‘Sea water still leaves stains.’
I look at my shirt. It is torn at the shoulder and stained with sand. My father paid more for it than most people here earn in a week.
That information stays behind my teeth.
‘Good afternoon,’ I say. ‘I’m Alex. The drowning was an accident. The floor damage was a personal choice.’
The fisherman with the bandage over his eyebrow laughs.
Despina points at a wooden stool. ‘Sit. Not on the clean towel.’
I sit beside a crate of bottled water. The only empty chair stays between the old women, and one of them places her handbag on it before I can look too interested.
Sophia puts a metal tray beside Despina. She has brought antiseptic, gauze, and tape from the clinic across the road.
‘Name?’ Despina asks.
‘Alex.’
‘Surname?’
‘Currently unavailable.’
‘How convenient.’
‘It’s a family condition. We lose surnames at dinner.’
‘Your family loses names?’
‘Usually after dessert.’
The old women exchange a look. One of them smiles despite herself.
Despina takes my wrist and turns my palm upward. Her fingers are dry and strong. She studies the cut, then the skin around it.
‘Shallow,’ she says. ‘You have made a large performance from a small wound.’
‘That is the first accurate medical opinion I’ve received today.’
‘You have not received any others.’
‘Then yours is already ahead.’
She cleans the cut without warning. I keep my hand still while the antiseptic bites.
Sophia watches my face instead of the wound.
She is collecting something.
The woman with the walking stick leans toward her neighbor.
‘Is this the new waiter?’
‘He looks like a guest.’
‘Guests don’t sit on crates.’
‘Perhaps he has lost his money.’
I lift my wet sandal from a pharmacy receipt. The paper shows a charge of eight euros for gauze and aspirin.
‘You have all reached a conclusion before I’ve had tea,’ I say.
‘Tea costs two euros here,’ the fisherman says. ‘Coffee costs four.’
‘Then I shall continue drinking sea water. It has a good price.’
Despina seals the cut with a narrow strip of tape.
‘You work for Kostas?’
‘He has not fired me yet.’
‘That was not my question.’
‘It is the most encouraging part of the answer.’
‘How much does he pay you?’
‘Enough to keep my sandals in the family.’
‘How much?’
The fisherman lowers his bandage. The old woman with the handbag stops sorting her pills. Sophia reaches for another pad and leaves it beside Despina’s hand.
‘We’re negotiating,’ I say.
‘Kostas pays six euros an hour,’ the fisherman says.
‘Four if you are new,’ says the woman with the walking stick.
‘Then I should ask for six before he discovers that.’
‘He won’t give it to you.’
‘You have known me for nearly a minute. Your confidence is touching.’
The fisherman looks at my palm. ‘Soft hands.’
Despina turns my wrist farther toward the window.
The watch slips from beneath my wet sleeve.
Its stainless-steel case catches the light. The Vassilis crest is stamped into the back, small and clear above the buckle.
I pull my arm toward myself.
Despina sees it anyway.
‘That is an expensive watch for a man negotiating four euros an hour.’
‘It was a gift.’
‘From whom?’
‘A relative with poor judgment.’
‘Your grandfather?’
‘He had excellent judgment. He just enjoyed ignoring it.’
The answer earns another laugh from the fisherman, but Despina does not smile.
She turns my hand over again and presses one finger beneath the watch strap.
‘Your grandfather wore one too?’
‘Something similar.’
‘And he was poor?’
‘He was complicated.’
‘That is what rich people call poor when they want to sound interesting.’
The room goes quiet.
Sophia does not look at me. She looks at Despina’s hands, then at the watch, then at my face.
I could tell them the truth and end the performance before it begins.
I could also hand my father the island before lunch.
Despina leans closer. ‘You arrive with a watch bearing the Vassilis crest, no money, no luggage, and a story that changes shape whenever someone touches it.’
‘That sounds less like a story and more like a review.’
‘You think jokes make you difficult to read.’
‘No. I think jokes make people generous enough to keep trying.’
Sophia’s fingers pause over the roll of tape.
Despina notices that too.
‘Did you steal it?’ she asks.
‘The watch?’
‘The watch, the name, the work. Choose one.’
The old woman with the handbag gathers her pills into a paper envelope. The pharmacy has stopped being a clinic. It is a hearing, and everyone has accepted a seat.
I place my injured hand on my knee.
‘I’m not discussing my family.’
‘You brought them with you.’
‘They’re very attached.’
‘You said you needed work.’
‘I do.’
‘You said you were broke.’
‘I am.’
The fisherman points at the watch. ‘That costs more than my boat.’
‘Your boat should consider better accessories.’
He laughs, but Despina’s mouth tightens.
She folds the used gauze and drops it into the bin. ‘Take off the watch.’
‘Why?’
‘So I can see whether the skin beneath it has ever met work.’
I do not move.
Sophia steps nearer. Her shoulder touches mine for a brief moment as she reaches across the tray. The contact is practical. My body gives it a different meaning.
She notices that I notice.
‘Alex,’ she says, ‘let her examine your hand.’
Her voice is calm. Her eyes are not.
I unfasten the watch and place it on the stool.
The room sees the pale mark beneath the strap. The skin is smooth. There are no old cuts, no rope burns, no thickened patches across the palm.
Despina runs her thumb over my fingers.
‘You have never hauled a net.’
‘Once. It was a very persuasive net.’
‘You have never repaired an engine.’
‘That is true. I respect machines too much.’
‘You have never worked a day outside a clean room.’
The line lands harder because she says it without anger.
I look at Sophia. She is watching my hands now, not my face.
There is no accusation in her expression. That makes it worse.
‘My financial history is private,’ I say.
Despina waits.
I let the silence remain where my explanation should be.
Her eyes narrow. ‘You are not going to defend yourself?’
‘You seem to have brought enough witnesses for both sides.’
The fisherman coughs into his elbow. One of the old women hides a smile behind her envelope.
Despina looks toward Sophia. ‘You brought me a man with a rich man’s watch and a beggar’s story.’
‘He has a cut,’ Sophia says.
‘His hand is fine.’
‘Then the treatment is successful.’
Sophia picks up the watch and holds it out to me.
For half a second, the crest faces her.
Her thumb covers it before she returns the watch.
I fasten it beneath my sleeve.
She is helping me hide it.
I do not know why.
‘Come on,’ she says. ‘Kostas will need help before the evening crowd.’
I stand. The woman with the handbag pulls her chair closer to the wall so I cannot brush past it. The fisherman moves his boots aside at the last moment.
At the door, Despina calls my name.
‘Alex.’
I turn.
She points at my taped hand. ‘Do not get it wet.’
‘I’ll try to avoid the sea. It has already been very rude.’
‘And stop pretending you are poorer than you are.’
I give her my most harmless smile.
‘That is a difficult request. I have been practicing.’
Sophia opens the door. Sunlight falls across the pharmacy floor, and I step outside before Despina can ask another question.
The door closes behind us.
Despina waits until my footsteps fade, then turns to Sophia.
‘That boy’s hands have never hauled a net. He has the soft palms of a man who has never worked a day. And you know it.’
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