Page 21 of The Silent Sister

Unable to sleep that night, Cassia began to write the most important letter she’d ever written.

She tried several times, but each attempt was screwed up into a ball and thrown on the bedroom floor.

She wanted to get her love across to Tom, not sound as if she was accepting his proposal for Eléni’s sake.

She’d told him she loved him before he left, so why were the words so hard to write?

Taverna Zervas

Fiscardo

Kefalonia

My dear Tom,

By now, you will be back on board your ship.

Life here is not the same without you. I miss our talks, how you make me laugh, the way you are with Eléni.

Above all, I miss you. I know you were disappointed I didn’t say yes to marrying you straight away and yet even then, you still wanted me.

Since you left, I have not been able to think of anything else but you.

Yours is the first face I see every morning when I wake up and the last at night when I close my eyes.

I made the biggest mistake of my life by letting you leave without my answer.

If you still want to marry me, then, yes, I accept.

Yes! I promise to be the best wife I can to you.

I know we can’t see each other until your next leave, but please write back and tell me you still want to marry me.

I look at the beautiful bracelet you gave me and it isn’t a friendship bracelet to me.

In my eyes it is a gift from the man I want to marry.

Please write back as soon as you can.

With my love,

Cassia Xx

She folded the letter and tucked it into an envelope. Licking along the seal, she imagined how Tom would react as he read the words.

Once she and Eléni were dressed and had breakfast, they went to post Tom’s letter.

‘We’re just popping out, Michaíl.’

He sat in his usual seat in the bar, Kynigós lying at his feet.

A newspaper was spread out in front of him and his face was serious.

Cassia hoped he wouldn’t stop them and start complaining about the awful state of affairs in Kefalonia.

She was on a happy mission, accepting a proposal of marriage, and nothing was going to spoil it.

As she got out into the street, she felt guilty.

The old man was not just worried for himself, but for her and Eléni too.

A shiver ran through her. How was she going to break the news to him that she intended to marry Tom and they were emigrating to Wales?

By the time they reached the post office, she’d made a decision.

She’d tell both Michaíl and Eugenia after the New Year’s Day meal the following day.

The woman behind the counter took the letter, making note of the address.

‘Ah, Kyrios Beynon. He told me he will miss you. He will be pleased to get this, eh?’

‘I hope so.’ Cassia looked at Eléni and smiled.

When they got back to the taverna, Michaíl was outside in the yard chopping the meagre amount of wood left to heat the oven and the fire in the living room tomorrow.

The wood from Eugenia had lasted a while, but after tomorrow she would have to ask her sister for help again.

Eléni settled down to do some drawing while Cassia prepared food for the next day.

She cut the pork into small pieces and let it marinate in some of Eugenia’s olive oil.

Making sure she had all the ingredients for the morning, she placed everything in the small, cool pantry just off the kitchen.

She wanted this to be a celebratory meal.

It dawned on her it was going to be her last in Kefalonia, her last in Greece, so she wanted the meal to be typically Greek.

This was the recipe her mamá had made when she was a child.

But back then the piece of meat had been huge, with any spices readily available and no shortages.

This was having to be her version 1953-style.

Eléni tugged at Cassia’s skirt, dragging her to the front of the bar where the door was open. From the outside came the sound of singing.

‘Ah, it’s the carol singers.’ Cassia held Eléni’s hand and took her outside. ‘Look, they have little boats like yours.’

One small boy stepped forward asking if Cassia and Eléni would like them to sing. By that time, Michaíl had joined them.

Once they agreed, the singing started. Some of the children held triangles or drums to accompany the singing.

‘ Kalanta. Our Greek carols.’ Michaíl’s face had softened. Gone were the earlier worry lines that had been etched on his face. ‘If you listen, the Kalanda song will be wishing me, as head of the household, a long life and prosperity. I don’t think it will happen, eh, Cassia?’

Cassia squeezed his arm.

‘Come, Eléni. We must find something to give the singers.’

They went into the kitchen where Cassia had made some koulouri .

She’d cut the dough of the sweet rolls into tiny bite-sized pieces for the carol singers to fit in their boats.

Eléni helped Cassia carry the tray of breads back to the singers and then handed them around.

Michaíl had a handful of drachmae to share and placed them in the little boats.

The three of them sat in the living room where the low table was laid with two glasses and an already opened bottle of retsina. In another glass was orange juice for Eléni. Michaíl poured and handed Cassia a glass of the pine-resin flavoured wine.

‘Yamas, agápi mou.’

Eléni raised her glass, too, laughing at the chink of the glasses.

Michaíl went into the bar in the hope of some custom, and Cassia and Eléni got more things ready for the next day. Eugenia and Maia would be arriving in the morning.

* * *

Eugenia arrived right on time.

‘Kalí chroniá , ’ she called out to them as she opened the back of her old truck. Her gift for Michaíl was a load of logs, piled into the back.

‘Kalí chroniá, Eugenia. Ah, the best gift. Efcharistó.’ The old man helped Eugenia take the logs to the outhouse. ‘Come in, come in. I think Maia has already gone to join Eléni.’

Cassia greeted her sister, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘Kalí chroniá, agápi mou. Yes, Maia and Eléni immediately disappeared upstairs to play.’

Cassia brought out the marinated meat from the pantry.

She cut up the peppers and other vegetables and sautéed them until they were golden brown.

Next, she heated a deep pan on a high heat before adding the pieces of pork, which were cooked until they too got some colour. The vegetables were added and mixed.

‘Now comes the best bit,’ Cassia said.

With care, she added a dash of Metaxa brandy, some of the retsina from the previous day, honey, spices, cinnamon and cloves, then a little water and orange juice.

‘Do you want to mix it for luck and make a wish?’ she asked her sister. Eugenia smiled and took the large spoon.

‘What shall I wish for? I can wish everyone left on Kefalonia good luck, but I mustn’t say my wish out loud or it won’t come true.’

Cassia took the pan from Eugenia when she’d finished and placed it in the oven, where it would bake for the next two hours.

She thought about what Eugenia had said.

Wishing everyone good luck was easy, but she wouldn’t let anyone know she wished for Tom to write back immediately.

She wished she were on a ferry to Athens to become his wife.

She wished she’d accepted his proposal and told him face to face she wanted to be his wife.

Unexpectedly, Cassia’s eyes misted. Even in times of hardship like this, the traditions of a Greek Christmas and Saint Basil’s Day were being upheld thanks to her sister and Michaíl.

The three of them were all working together to make sure Eléni and Maia had the same happy memories she and Eugenia had.

‘Shall we open the presents while the food is cooking? Can you give the girls a shout?’

They handed around the small pile of gifts. ‘I think Agios Vasilios has been,’ said Cassia. ‘This one is for you, Eléni.’

Watching the little girl’s face as she opened the soft teddies, dressed in colourful clothes Cassia had made for her, was magical. Cassia wished Tom could have been there to share the moment.

When Michaíl handed Eléni and Maia his presents, the girls both felt all around them first and got even more excited, ripping off the paper as quickly as they could.

‘I wonder what they could be,’ said Cassia.

As Eléni unwrapped each wooden animal, her eyes widened further and her smile filled the whole of her face. She stood up and hugged Michaíl, who by then had tears in his eyes.

Maia squealed, ‘Look, Mamá. A spinning top! I’ve always wanted one. Efcharistó, efcharistó. ’ She joined Eléni in Michaíl’s arms.

‘You’ve made two little girls very happy,’ said Eugenia.

‘They’re beautiful, Michaíl.’ Cassia’s voice filled with emotion. ‘You are clever.’ She was about to take this kind man’s surrogate granddaughter away from him.

‘Girls, would you like to give these to Michaíl?’ Cassia handed them each a wrapped gift.

The old man opened them one by one — a scarf from Eléni and Cassia, and a pair of gloves from Maia and Eugenia. His eyes lit up. ‘These will keep me nice and warm. Efcharistó. Your mamás have been very busy, eh?’

‘We hope they will keep the cold out when we get short of logs again,’ said Cassia.

‘Just two more now.’ Maia jumped up and down as she handed the small gifts to Cassia and Eugenia, who opened them simultaneously. ‘What have you got, Mamá?’

The sisters laughed and held up identical bars of olive oil soap.

‘Exactly the same as we’ve given to Theía Cassia.’

‘Great minds, I think. Efcharistó poly , Eugenia and Maia.’