Page 43 of The Silent Sister

Four weeks later

Early-morning light poured into Eléni’s bedroom.

Opening her eyes, her stomach knotted again as it had done repeatedly during the last few days.

This is it! I’m returning to the place of my birth.

The day she’d been planning and waiting for had arrived.

She’d hardly slept a wink. Her mind whirled with thoughts of what was ahead.

It was just going to be Eléni and her father going to the airport.

Bronwen had said her goodbyes the night before because of their very early start.

‘You will send loads of postcards, won’t you?’ she said. ‘Let me know what the local talent’s like.’ The two girls laughed.

Eléni realised how much she was going to miss her sister.

There was a knock at the door. ‘Can I come in, agápi mou ? I thought you’d like a cup of tea.’

‘Oh, thank you.’ She sat up and took the cup from her mother. You haven’t slept much either, have you, Mamá? ‘You shouldn’t have got up at this ungodly hour.’

‘What and leave my girl to get ready on her own?’ She smiled as she squeezed Eléni’s hand.

‘Your baba’s in the bathroom now and will give you a shout when he’s out.

’ Leaving her mother was going to be difficult.

Eléni was torn between feeling she was letting her down and doing something she knew she had to do.

After a quick breakfast, it was time to leave.

‘I’ll be back before you know it, Mamá.’ Her throat tightened and she willed herself not to cry.

Her mother’s eyes shone with tears. ‘I know. Stay safe, agápi mou . Here...’ She thrust a sealed envelope into Eléni’s hand. ‘Open it on the plane.’

‘Come on, you two. We don’t want to be cutting it fine.’ Her father got in the car and started the engine.

‘Bye, Mamá.’ When Eléni kissed her mother goodbye, her cheeks were wet with tears. Cassia brushed them away and pulled her into a tight embrace.

‘One last cwtch. The Welsh word for hug is the best. Now you go.’

Before her father drove off, Eléni noticed her mother had already gone back inside the house, not able to watch her go.

* * *

It was Eléni’s first time travelling by plane. She bit her lip as she looked around her at the crowds of people walking in the direction of the various departure gates. Her father had accompanied her as far as he could, but now it was all up to her.

She found her seat matching the number on her boarding card and sat down, only to be asked to stand again by the person whose seat was past hers.

‘Hi, I’m Betsy. Are you travelling alone too?’

‘Eléni. Yes, I’ve never flown before.’

The two young women began to chat and learned much about each other.

It turned out Betsy was a seasoned traveller.

This flight to Athens was the third leg of a flight that had begun in California.

She’d travelled from there to New York and then on to London, where she’d spent a few weeks sight-seeing before boarding this plane.

‘Once I get to Greece, I’m joining a group of friends to sail around some of the Greek islands. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.’

Eléni was very grateful to have Betsy’s company on the first leg of her journey to Kefalonia.

They touched down in Athens and parted company in the airport, with Betsy going through passport control and customs, and Eléni finding the boarding gate for her next plane.

Her mouth was dry. She was travelling the last leg of her journey alone, to a place she’d never visited before and not knowing what she was going to find.

Once aboard the plane, Eléni looked down over the ancient city from her window seat.

The panoramic view was impressive. From her mother’s journal, she’d read her parents had brought her here on their way to Wales.

Eléni had thought she’d been too young to remember much, but, suddenly, images of the old lady, Sophia, who she’d found out had played a part in saving her life, and Sophia’s daughter, who’d lived in Athens, entered her head.

Now a memory of her mother wearing a pretty dress for her wedding to her papa, and Sophia giving her a little bag tied with silky ribbon and full of pink-and-white sugar almonds, surfaced.

The next day they’d sailed out of the port on a larger ship and on a much longer journey to get to Wales.

The memories had been buried deep for all these years but as she’d looked down on the vanishing city, they had resurfaced.

It was then she remembered her mother’s letter.

She’d placed it in her bag to read on the plane, but this was the first opportunity she’d had to be alone to read it.

Her mamá’s distinctive cursive handwriting on the envelope brought a lump to her throat.

She ran her finger along the seal and took out the folded letter.

Agapití Eléni,

By the time you read this, you will be well on your way to Kefalonia.

Although I did not want you to go, I want you to know it is only because I love you with all my heart and am so afraid of losing you.

Like Baba says, you have every right to know who you are and I am the one in the wrong for not giving you my blessing earlier.

You will have a big task ahead of you to find your uncle as it’s twenty years since the earthquake, so I am enclosing two addresses to help you.

One is the address of your Aunt Eugenia.

When your yiayiá died in 1963, she still lived at the smallholding just outside Fiscardo then.

Because I refused to go to her, I have not heard from Eugenia since and I regret that.

If she is still there, I know she would help you no matter what she thinks of me.

The other address is not so accurate. It’s a street name, I’m afraid. Byron Street is where my neighbour, Sophia, and I lived. Our houses were 145 and 163. Your house was somewhere on the same side as ours, but it would have had a lower odd number.

Eléni’s pulse raced and her skin prickled. If she could find the street, how would it feel to visit the actual spot where her parents and grandparents were killed? She read on.

Please stay safe. Write often and tell us how you are getting on. I would not recognise what you’ll be seeing in Argostoli as my last memories of the island are ones of horror and destruction, but if you do manage to visit Fiscardo to see your aunt, Kefalonia was and I hope still is beautiful.

I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.

All my love,

Mamá xx

Eléni looked at the two addresses written on two separate pieces of card.

She tucked them back inside the letter, folded it and returned it to the envelope.

A warm feeling washed over her. Oh, Mamá, I do love you and nothing will ever change that.

Efcharistó. To receive her mother’s blessing meant everything to her.