Читать книгу Elita and her life with F.W. de Klerk - M Meiring - Страница 8

George was a man of refined tastes; he was particular, even hypercritical about the quality of everything pertaining to his material comfort — food, clothes, furniture, cars. Nitsa dedicated herself to maintaining these high standards in running the house, sparing no effort in creating a home that would be pleasing to him in every respect.

Even as a small child, however, Elita was aware of the fierce and sometimes bitter rows audible from her parents’ bedroom. Nitsa did not always conceal her tears and Elita soon came to believe that her mother’s overwhelming love for her father was not entirely reciprocated.

Nevertheless, Nitsa stoically continued to keep a meticulous household. Following the tradition of her mother, Martha, rules were drawn up for staff to follow in the finest detail. Where and how guests were received was of crucial importance; the table was always to be immaculately laid with all the required cutlery; food had to be correctly served and proper etiquette adhered to at all times.

The little girls had to greet guests politely and eat properly – from a very early age Nitsa instilled in them a fear of getting fat. Although not an intellectual like her mother, Nitsa was determined that her children would acquire all the skills and education available at that time to girls in Kolonaki.

As George’s wealth grew, Nitsa systematically sought out larger and more spacious apartments. The young couple soon became well respected. Nitsa had good social standing and taste to match; she was also an indefatigable hostess, becoming renowned for her elegant dinners, the long dining table lavishly laid with crystal, flowers and the finest food.

Children in Kolonaki had a social life of their own, with endless parties, always with imaginative cakes, cool drinks and above all, pretty clothes. The girls would be dressed in frills and flounces, often purchased in Paris or Milan, the boys in pageboy suits. Photographs of every occasion were pasted into an album. In many of these photographs, a small figure may be seen standing to one side, large eyes looking at the other children over the rim of a cool drink glass: Elita. Was this standing apart instinctive, or simply her way of assessing things? Later she would become known for her remarkable powers of observation and insight. And for her shyness whenever she became the focus of attention.

From their earliest years Elita and Martha were made aware of their social standing. Friendships were established early among the children of Kolonaki – even as toddlers they would be introduced to playmates, some of whom would remain friends for the rest of their lives.

The National Park on busy Vassilis Sofia Avenue was a popular meeting place for children. This world-famous park was laid out for the first modern king of Greece, Othon, son of Ludwig of Bavaria. In 1834 Othon had been elected to establish a monarchy in Greece; his German queen, Amalia, was not popular among Greeks, but she did have this impressive garden laid out in honour of her husband. With time it became the National Park and the residents of Kolonaki have come to regard it as their own. It contains plants from all over the world in spectacular gardens, rare animals in beautiful enclosures and numerous statues, including one of the English Romantic poet Lord Byron, who fought in the Greek war of Independence and died in Greece of a lung infection.

Here the nannies of Kolonaki would bring their charges for daily outings. A mini-apartheid of nations prevailed: The English nannies had their own little England, the French their territory, as did the Germans. Elita’s nanny, Paulette, was Swiss and French-speaking and it was here that three-year-old Elita met her lifelong friend, Maria Geurtsos. At their parents’ insistence, both little girls had to learn French; later Elita would see it as the reason why, at six years old, she was not accepted into a Greek school. “I could already read Greek well and even write a little, but I could not sing a single Greek song or recite a single Greek rhyme. So I was turned down!”

In addition to French lessons, there were hated ballet lessons. Elita and her playmate Irene Doxiadis – who was later to become the respected Irene Lemos of Greek shipping and business circles – were in the same class. Elita preferred to leap like a rabbit rather than dance on her toes, simply refusing to become a “good” dancer.

Irene and Elita loved the enchanting stories their schoolteacher told them – which included the assurance that they, like seed sown in the earth, would one day grow into pretty flowers. Elita always remembered the story and believes that this is where her great love of flowers and gardening originated.

Nitsa’s insistence on a French education did not waver and in summer Elita and Martha would attend school in the French-speaking region of Switzerland. It was during one of these summers that George Lanaras realised that his seven-year old daughter had a mind of her own. In a reply to a letter from her father, she wrote, in Greek: Dearest Papa, I am not well. I am bored. Please let me come home. Later she wrote again: Dearest Papa, I read your letter with great joy. But I don’t want you to send me love or photos. I want to come home. Your daughter Elita. But coming home was out of the question, until term was over.

Sometimes Elita and Martha would be sent with Paulette to the island of Corfu for a short holiday. The sisters came to realise that these holidays would always coincide with times of extreme tension in their parents’ marriage.

Even as a small child, Elita felt that her mother did not understand her and she would often flee to her bedroom, overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness. Realising early that she was inclined to get depressed, she began keeping a diary, which became a lifelong habit. As did slipping away quietly to be alone.

She also found refuge in books and here the girls’ French governess, Monique, proved an inspiration. Monique introduced them early to the world of Victor Hugo, to Russian writer Gogol, Mallarmé, and even Baudelaire. That the latter poet could be read to two sheltered young girls is a reflection of Nitsa’s determination that her children had to be introduced to the very best even if that meant the inclusion of works by the libertine Baudelaire.

Their relationship with their father was more fun, because George took his daughters on adventures. He would “kidnap” them in his car and they would stop along the road and eat peasant food – dishes like kokoretsi, (similar to liver cakes) — and the sauce from the liver and onions would drip on their clothes. This was definitely not the kind of food that Nitsa’s housekeeper would prepare at home, where the compulsory glass of carrot juice on waking every morning was the first challenge of the day.

On these outings Elita and Martha would be continually bubbling with laughter and their delight in these adventures encouraged George to take them out more and more often. He would let them “drive” the car and take them to cowboy films. He was a great fan of John Wayne and, although Elita went along happily, she announced that she was very glad that she had not been born a man and so might have had to become a cowboy. When it came to Mickey Mouse, she dug in her heels: the cats were too fierce and she didn’t like Minnie’s shoes.

George built a holiday house at Anavissos on the Sounion coast, site of a celebrated temple to the sea god Poseidon. For the sisters, holidays here were for a long time more enjoyable than the many overseas trips on which they accompanied their parents.

The rebuilding of Greece in the 1950’s had little direct effect on the children of Kolonaki. Privileged, even spoilt, the only shadows were in their immediate family circle. And the fact that George was so easily able to win and keep his daughters’ favour also placed an undue emphasis on the distance between Elita and her mother, something the little girl was unable to perceive at the time.