Page 54 of The Silent Sister
She’d been working at the taverna for several weeks.
It now wasn’t long until the anniversary of the earthquake and Argostoli was growing busier with holidaymakers.
Eléni worked some longer shifts but managed to keep her Mondays free and not work any more evenings.
She saw Simos whenever she could and spent her free time drawing.
Before visiting her uncle again, she’d wanted to finish a drawing of the church with the bell tower so she could present it to him as a gift to remember her by.
She took the ten o’clock bus to Farsa. There were few seats left and even in the morning, it was stiflingly hot.
She smiled to herself when she compared the bumpy, uncomfortable ride with the luxury of the one in Theo’s sleek convertible.
Once at her uncle’s cottage, she called through the beaded curtain. ‘Theíos Kostas. It’s me, Eléni!’
The old man greeted her with a beaming smile and kissed her on both cheeks. After making frappés, they sat outside under the pergola and chatted.
‘Your mamá was a talented embroiderer and lacemaker, you know.’
Eléni gasped. ‘Cassia did that, too. It’s such a coincidence, don’t you think? And I don’t know one end of a needle from another.’
They both laughed.
‘People use to come to her for handmade table linen to give as wedding presents and layettes for their babies. She even made her own wedding dress.’ Kostas stood and went back inside the house. He brought out a large photograph in a cardboard cover, yellowed with age. ‘Doesn’t she look wonderful?’
A lump formed in Eléni’s throat. ‘ Nai . So beautiful. Did she make the long train?’
Her uncle nodded, then laughed. ‘She was stitching it for months.’
‘Is that you, standing by Baba?’
‘It is. I was — how do you say? — their best man. I won’t give you that one as it is the only picture I have of the three of us together.’ He took a deep breath. Eléni could see how difficult it was for her uncle to deal with his loss even after all that time.
‘And Baba was an artist. I went to see his work in Fiscardo.’ Eléni brought out the drawing from her bag. ‘Much as I loved his large oil paintings, it was the pen-and-ink drawings that fascinated me. It’s the medium I work in.’ She showed her uncle her drawing of the church.
Kostas Koulouris gasped. ‘You drew this? It’s the church in Argostoli. The bell tower survived. A miracle! You are so talented just like your baba. Even as a tiny girl, you would draw all the time. He was so proud of you.’
Eléni swallowed, afraid of letting the tears fall. ‘Thank you for telling me that. He must have passed his love of drawing on to me. I’d love to make a living from my art. Eventually get a workshop and gallery. But that is a long time in the future.’
Her uncle took both of her hands and looked into her eyes. ‘After everything that has happened, follow your dreams. Follow in your father’s footsteps. Carry on the Mouzakis name in the field of art.’
Was she talented enough to do that? An image of her birth father entered Eléni’s head as if to give her his approval. But she couldn’t drop the name of Beynon and become a Mouzakis, could she?
‘Now, before you need to catch the bus back, I think it’s time for lunch. Will Greek salad and olive bread do you?’
Kostas entered the kitchen and brought the food outside. ‘The tomatoes are my own,’ he said, pointing beyond the paved area to where staked plants laden with juicy red tomatoes continued to ripen in the hot sun among a variety of herbs and courgettes.
Eléni drizzled more olive oil and sprinkled oregano over the slab of feta Kostas had served in a rustic terracotta bowl for her. ‘This is delicious, Theíos Kostas. The tomatoes are so sweet compared to the ones we have back home.’
When it was time to leave, Eléni handed her drawing to her uncle.
‘I want you to have this to remind you of me when I go back to Wales. I can’t thank you enough for trying to find me all those years ago and especially today for telling me more about my mamá and baba.
I just wish I could remember them. Now you’ve told me about Baba encouraging me to draw, I do seem to have a recollection of sitting at a big table and someone putting cushions underneath me on the chair so I was high enough to draw. Perhaps it was him.’
Her uncle hugged Eléni. ‘They would be so proud of the young woman you’ve become, agápi mou . It’s down to the people who brought you up. I’m no longer angry and I’m sorry about how I behaved last time. I’d like your parents’ address so I can write to them.’
Eléni smiled. She had some serious apologising to do too. Taking the pen and paper from her uncle, she wrote down her parents’ name and address. ‘ Efcharistó . It will mean so much to them, to my mother in particular.’
Kostas walked her to the door where they embraced for the final time. ‘ Antío . Keep in touch. Maybe come to Kefalonia often. This is your home, don’t forget.’
‘ Antío , Theíos Kostas.’
* * *
That evening, Eléni and Simos met at the taverna along from the one where she worked.
They ordered beers and two portions of kreatopita, with salad.
Simos moved his food around the plate as if he wasn’t hungry, so Eléni finished well before he did.
She was so excited to tell him everything about her visit to see her uncle that she didn’t notice how quiet Simos was at first. After a while she became aware he hadn’t commented at all on her news.
Eléni worried something had happened at work.
She took his hand. ‘Is everything all right? You’re very quiet tonight. ’
He pulled his hand away, not able to make eye contact.
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ Sounding unconvincing, he continued, ‘I’m pleased you found out more about your family.
But that’s my job done, isn’t it? You’ll be going home now.
’ He paused. ‘I’m going to miss you. I’ve never been as close as this to anyone before.
The very few relationships I’ve had have all been disastrous.
The girls accused me of being — how do you say? — a cold fish. But with you...’
Eléni took his face in her hands and turned it to hers. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears.
‘I’m not going anywhere yet. I’m staying until at least the anniversary celebrations are over and afterwards, who knows? Yes, I will go back to see my parents and sister. But I feel at home here in Kefalonia. Theíos Kostas has told me to come back often so this isn’t the end.’
The way Simos looked at her was different somehow.
There was an intensity in his gaze as if he was locking the vision of her into his mind, never to let her go.
Eléni hadn’t realised how close their faces had become.
She could feel his breath on her cheeks.
Leaning across, she kissed the handsome man sitting opposite her.
His lips were warm and soft. When he responded, her insides somersaulted.
‘I’ve been wanting to do that since I first met you,’ she said. ‘I had to wait until you were ready.’
Simos stood and moved to sit on the same side of the table as her. He pulled her towards him, whispering, ‘I’m ready.’ He kissed her again, this time with more urgency. When they broke free, a cheer went up from the surrounding diners. They both grinned.
‘Come on, let’s go.’ Simos grabbed her hand.
Arms around each other as they walked down the streets, Eléni felt the relationship between her and Simos had turned just a corner.
Her heartbeat raced. She’d known for a while he liked her as a friend and enjoyed her company, but he’d responded the way a lover would to her kiss.
Could love have a future when two people were thousands of miles apart?
They reached Simos’s apartment block and he led the way up to his flat.
They resumed kissing as soon as the door shut behind them.
Electricity fizzed through her veins. It was as if all the longing and not knowing if there was any hope of him feeling the same had built up and was about to explode.
They fell back onto the sofa with their arms and legs entwined.
‘Oh, why have I wasted so much time?’ Simos planted butterfly kisses down her cheek and along her shoulder. His hot breath on her earlobe made her shiver with pleasure.
‘Shh,’ she whispered. ’We can make up for it now.’
Taking their time, they caressed and undressed each other. Simos took Eléni’s hand and led her to the bedroom. And make up for lost time they did.