Page 57 of The Silent Sister

They found the single-storey house that belonged to Kyria Lourdata.

It was situated at the top of a steep hill leading from the main road of New Farsa, whitewashed and with a pristine terracotta-tiled roof.

Eléni could imagine how difficult the old lady would have found it to settle here when she’d been part of the community in the original village, with its hundreds of years of history high above her, for all her life.

The path up to the door was edged with stone pots where trailing scarlet geraniums tumbled over the sides.

Before they had a chance to pull the rope bell, the door was opened by an elderly woman leaning heavily on a stick.

Her snow-white hair was scraped back into a tight bun, giving her face a pinched expression.

Her caramel, weathered skin suggested she’d spent much of her life outdoors.

‘Kyria Lourdata?’

‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ Her wrinkles then softened. ‘Call me Kyria Delia. Come through.’

Simos checked his watch. They weren’t late.

Walking into the tiny house, Eléni noticed how tidy everything was.

It was a little like Simos’s apartment but in miniature, and so unusual for an old lady’s home.

She thought of all the ornaments, photographs and mementos on display at Auntie Gwladys’s house.

But of course, Kyria Delia had lost all hers. Maybe they couldn’t be replaced.

She took them to the back of the house where the outside space was as immaculate as the inside. Again, there were lots of pots and an abundance of colour.

‘This is so lovely. Do you do all this yourself?’ Eléni looked around at the courtyard before sitting on the bench offered by Kyria Delia.

‘ Nai. I have got to keep going, you know. This is nothing compared to my house up there.’ She nodded in the direction of Old Farsa.

‘Twenty years since it happened. Pah! This isn’t my home.

It’s just somewhere they told me I had to live.

They should have rebuilt up there. It broke my heart.

’ The old lady’s eyes shone with tears. ‘Now, what do you want to know?’

Simos was taken aback by her abrupt tone. ‘I’ve just found out from Lysander Favata I’m from Old Farsa. After all my family was killed, I was taken to an orphanage in Patras and my memory of what happened is very sketchy. Almost non-existent. He said you may be able to help me.’

‘Everyone left the village, mostly to live with relatives in the north where they’d escaped the worst of it.

The children who were orphaned like you were rounded up and taken to the orphanage outside Argostoli, but soon it was so full they started sending the orphans to the mainland orphanages.

’ Kyria Delia got up from her wooden chair opposite to look intently at Simos.

‘You remind me of someone. My old brain isn’t what it was but, when I saw you at the door, I thought it then too. What did you say your name was?’

He looked at Eléni. ‘Simos Georgatos.’

‘That’s it! Gerasimos Georgatos. The headmaster of the school. He looked just like you!’

Eléni hugged Simos. ‘He must be your baba.’

‘When it happened, he had a little boy about six — I remember he’d just started school the year before — and they also had twin boys who were about two.

The family was well known in the village.

Every one of them was wiped out apart from the little boy.

So sad. Living next door to them was his sister and all of her family, if I remember rightly. ’

‘Theía Maria.’ Simos closed his eyes. ‘She often looked after me and I played with her girls. My cousins. More is coming back. So the wall still standing with the large wooden door, was it where I lived?’

Delia nodded. ‘I haven’t been up there for years but if it’s the one I think you mean, yes.

It was the old schoolhouse, and next to it would have been the school itself, and the yard, but there’s nothing to see of it now.

It was lucky the school was closed for the summer.

’ Her voice cracked. ‘All those children...’

The old lady sat back in her chair.

Simos looked again at Eléni, as if for reassurance. ‘One more thing, Kyria Delia. I can see this has been so hard for you and I’m very grateful. But do you know where my family is buried?’

‘In the cemetery in New Farsa. Everyone was.’

Eléni stood and went to the old lady. It was obvious she was exhausted by all the talk. ‘ Efcharistó , Kyria Delia. Please don’t get up. You’ve helped Simos such a lot.’

‘Yes, Eléni’s right. I’ve shut away all that happened on that awful day. We can pay our respects to my family now.’

In spite of their protests, Delia Lourdata struggled to get up again with the help of her stick. ‘I offered to look after you and another boy who was orphaned, you know.’

Simos’s mouth gaped open.

‘I didn’t know either of you well, but I wanted to do something to help. They told me I was too old and you had to be taken away. Pah! I was only sixty then and a lot fitter than this.’

‘That was so kind of you, Kyria Delia.’ Eléni wondered what would have happened if the authorities had allowed Delia Lourdata to raise Simos. It would have been no different to the many orphans who’d been raised by their grandparents.

She allowed Simos and Eléni to hug her before they left to drive further into the village.

They parked the car and walked into the cemetery where there were row upon row of stone memorials.

Several of the newer gravestones had inscriptions with full names, dates all post-1953, and messages.

On some were enamelled colour portraits of the family members lying beneath the soil.

However, the vast majority were plain, square headstones of white marble, simply inscribed with a name and the date of the earthquake.

Simos and Eléni split up to try to find his parents’ resting place. After searching for some time, Simos found three headstones touching each other in a line.

‘I’ve found them! Come and see, Eléni.’ She found him kneeling on the ground in front of the first one, his hand outstretched on the top of the stone.

Gerasimos Christós Georgatos

Pelagia Darnia Georgatos

Alexander Christós Georgatos

Andreas Christós Georgatos

12 August 1953

Simos stood and bowed his head. ‘At least I have proof they existed. Alexander and Andreas, my little brothers.’

‘I’m so pleased you’ve found them. Do you think the next grave could belong to your yiayiá and pappoú? They have the Georgatos name, so they could be your baba’s parents.’

Simos agreed and read their names aloud.

‘ Gerasimos Constantine Georgatos, Daphne Gaia Georgatos, Yiayiá and Pappoú. Another Gerasimos. Perhaps they were very religious. Especially as my twin brothers had Christós as their middle names. I do remember having to go to church a lot. Why haven’t I had these memories before? ’

Eléni squeezed his hand. ‘Because you were afraid to remember and you buried it deep inside you. I expect the next grave belongs to your auntie. Demosthenes Stavros Pandis, Maria Eléni Pandis, Daphne Zena Pandis, Cora Maria Pandis. ’

‘I can’t explain, but, after coming here, I feel different. Being reminded of everyone’s names and knowing they are lying at rest together has somehow lifted the heaviness in my chest that always weighed me down.’ Tears wetted his cheeks as he pulled Eléni into a hug.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘I couldn’t have done this without you.’

Eléni didn’t suggest calling in on her uncle. She could see Simos was emotionally drained. She would visit Kostas Koulouris once more before she left.

Instead, they headed back to Argostoli and returned the hire truck. They ate a light meal in their usual taverna.

‘I shall be looking like a Greek salad before long.’ Eléni laughed. She was going to miss the creamy feta and sweet tomatoes when she returned home.

‘And you’ll remember me as the one full of spanakopita!’ He patted his stomach.

It was good to see him relaxed after the intensity of the morning, thought Eléni.

‘I think we need a treat. How about a swim? If you go and get your swimsuit, I’ll see if I can hire a boat. How does that sound?’

Her heart skipped a beat. ‘Perfect.’

* * *

Simos was already in a small motorboat when she got back to the quayside after changing at the lodging house.

‘We were lucky. Just one left. Welcome aboard, agápi mou .’

He took her hand and she sat down in the middle of the boat while he guided them out of the harbour.

Soon they were out on the open sea, with the wind cooling Eléni’s face as the boat picked up speed.

The aquamarine water sparkled in the sun and splashes of white foam came over the side as the boat hit the waves.

Simos turned off the engine and came to sit beside Eléni as the boat slowed down. ‘Just look down into the water and see how clear it is.’

She leaned over and watched a shoal of silver-white fish in the turquoise water below her. They were marked with black bands. ‘There are loads of fish and I can see right down to the rocks at the bottom.’ Eléni was mesmerised.

‘I bet they’re a silvery colour with black bands near the neck and the tail. Two-banded sea bream. You know the fish you ate at the restaurant the other night? Well, this stretch here is where they catch them.’

Simos started up the engine again and took the boat into a secluded cove.

The beach was backed by steep white cliffs curving around to form a horseshoe shape.

Sparse dark green shrubs grew on the side of the rocky surface.

He dropped the anchor a short distance from the marble-white beach.

It was deserted and there were parts of it that would not be able to be seen by other passing boats.

‘There’s no one around, but you can change inside the helm if you like,’ said Simos. ‘I’m going to swim to shore and pull her in.’

He stripped off and dived into the water.

The toned muscles on his abdomen caused Eléni’s insides to melt.

There was no white line where his swimming trunks would have been.

There were no other boats in sight so she did the same.

The feeling of the cool water on her body was exhilarating.

By the time she reached the shore, Simos had dragged the motorboat onto the beach and had spread beach towels on the fine white pebbles.

He came to meet her and pulled her towards him.

The feeling of their wet skin touching sent fizzles of longing through her.

They lay down on the towels and kissed. Taking their time to explore each other’s bodies made the ultimate pleasure they eventually reached even more intense than usual.

Simos planted gentle, tender kisses along Eléni’s cheek and neck. ‘Thank you for today, agápi mou . I’m a completely different person because of you. You’ve put me in touch with my feelings for the first time I can remember.’ He kissed her again.

‘Oh, Simos. I can only imagine how much better you feel. And you helped me, too, don’t forget.’ How could this come to an end? Again she was torn between returning home and staying with Simos.

‘I hope you can tell I’ve fallen in love with you. I’ve never had feelings like this for anyone before. I can’t imagine a future without you.’

Eléni’s pulse raced. This was all she’d dreamed about since she’d first met him.

‘I love you, too... And you won’t have to.’

She sat astride him and brought her mouth to his.