BooksBarbecue
Back The Black Earth Save as PDF
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. THE BLACK EARTH
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. BOOK I
  6. CHAPTER ONE
  7. CHAPTER TWO
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FIVE
  11. CHAPTER SIX
  12. CHAPTER SEVEN
  13. BOOK II
  14. CHAPTER EIGHT
  15. CHAPTER NINE
  16. CHAPTER TEN
  17. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  18. CHAPTER TWELVE
  19. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  21. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  23. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  24. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  25. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY
  27. BOOK III
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  42. BOOK IV
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  44. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  45. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  46. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  47. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  48. CHAPTER FORTY
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
  53. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
  54. About the Author
  55. By Philip Kazan
  56. Copyright

They survive. Lountas books the band again and again, and Zoë grins and waves her ribboned tambourine for her conquerors. Sólon introduces Mr Castanides, very discreetly, to a black marketeer, who turns out to be the son of Mrs Vlessas, and who remembers Mama singing at his sister’s wedding. Because of this, he gives Zoë good rates on beans and oil and chickpeas, good being 10,000 drachmas for a little bag of chickpeas, rather than 15,000. Mostly they live on nettles and carob pods and Efi’s rations, and whatever Zoë can scrounge at the club. German treats from Pavlo, which Zoë refuses to his face but takes after he has left. She doesn’t have the power to resist. Perhaps this is what it is like to be on the needle: this dreadful, all-consuming hunger. Then the Allies lift the blockade, and there is a tiny ration of bread again, and news. Rommel has been defeated at El Alamein. Zoë thinks of a man with a floppy black fringe and sunburnt knees blowing up German tanks. Then she pictures crosses in rows, stretching away across the desert. It isn’t hope that’s got you this far, she tells herself; it’s bloody-mindedness. Don’t think so much. Don’t hope. For God’s sake, don’t start hoping now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

London, August 1942

Dearest Zoë,

Please forgive my silence but I’ve been on a boat for what seems like decades, and I’ve only just got back to England. If I’d swum the whole way I would have got here faster. We chugged down Africa, round the Cape and up the other side. We had to stop in Lagos for a week, which became a fortnight, and I did a lot of painting and absolutely nothing else – luckily I didn’t catch malaria, though everyone else seemed to manage it. Hooray for gin and tonic! And now here I am back in London. Half of the place is in ruins and yet people are going about their business as if everything were perfectly normal. It is impressive but also a little bit frightening: it feels haunted in a way, the people most of all. Unnatural. Everyone is so chirpy, always finding the bright side of everything. I have a horrible suspicion that you would hate it. And actually, I’m beginning to understand your suspicions about hope. Understand, mind, darling; not subscribe. You are my hope. Without hope, I don’t have you. I expect you’d raise those wonderful eyebrows at me for saying that, and dish out some of your delicious disdain, but, well, I’m afraid you’re stuck with it.