Page 58 of The Silent Sister

CASSIA

Three weeks earlier

‘An airmail letter addressed to you, Mamá. Strange Eléni has sent it to you and not to me and Baba, as well. Doesn’t look like her handwriting, mind.’ Bronwen handed her mother the translucent blue envelope. ‘I’m off out. See you later.’

It was the second letter with a Greek stamp that had arrived in the past week.

Eugenia had written to tell her sister all about Eléni’s visit.

It was the olive branch that Cassia herself should have made, but she had been afraid to.

She noticed from the return address that Eugenia was back living in their family home and wondered how Eléni had found her, since the address she’d given her daughter was for the smallholding just outside Fiscardo.

Her sister also told her that Maia was married with a little girl, and was living in Patras now.

Cassia’s hand shook as she slid her nail under the seal of the new letter and unfolded the paper.

The address was from a house in New Farsa, wherever that was.

She knew where Farsa was — it was a small village just outside Argostoli, where she and Nikos had first looked for somewhere to live when they’d left Fiscardo.

Agapití Kyría Beynon,

My name is Kostas Koulouris, the uncle of I?ánna Mouzakis, the young woman you know as Eléni.

‘No!’ Cassia threw the letter on the table, not able to read any more. Her pulse raced. It was the moment she’d dreaded for the last twenty years.

Tom rushed into the kitchen. ‘Whatever’s happened?

’ Cassia, unable to get her words out, pointed at the letter.

He picked it up. ‘I can’t understand this.

You know I can’t read Greek.’ His face turned ashen and his voice broke.

‘It’s not Eléni, is it?’ He sat beside his wife.

‘Cassia, tell me. What’s happened? Has she been in an accident? ’

‘No, it’s from him , the uncle. I can’t read it.’

Tom let out a big sigh. ‘Thank God. You panicked me then. I had visions of Eléni being in another accident or worse.’ He picked up the letter and handed it to Cassia.

‘I can’t read it for you, but I can be here with you as you read it.

There’s not going to be anything he can do from over two thousand miles away, is there? ’

He pulled up a chair to sit beside her.

‘I’m sorry I frightened you about Eléni, but him catching up with us is what I’ve always dreaded.’

She started to read, translating each line to Tom.

Dear Mrs Beynon,

My name is Kostas Koulouris, the uncle of I?ánna Mouzakis, the young woman you know as Eléni.

I returned to Kefalonia early in 1955 to find my whole family had perished in the earthquake.

Or so I thought. I learned my young niece may have survived and so I made a promise to my sister that if she was alive, I would find her and bring her up as my own.

Cassia stopped reading. She was afraid of what would be written next. Tom patted her hand. ‘Go on, cariad .’

I heard from a reporter that she may have been taken to Fiscardo, where I tracked down your sister. But then you know that. You were already in Wales by then. The reporter even put an advert for her as a missing child in his newspaper. You did a good job at hiding her. But I never gave up hope.

‘Rhodri Jones. Remember he questioned us when we were leaving for Fiscardo and we told him we were taking her to the farm to look at the animals,’ said Tom.

Cassia’s skin prickled with goosebumps, afraid to turn the next page. She read on.

How could someone do that?

Cassia’s eyes blurred with guilty tears. Her throat tightened.

But last week a miracle happened. My lovely niece found me.

She is the image of her mamá, my sister, Dimitra.

At first, I was angry you and your husband had denied me almost twenty years of knowing her.

You took her away from her homeland, away from where her mamá and baba, her yiayiá and pappoú lie in their resting places.

‘This was what I feared when I heard he was looking for us. This is why I didn’t want Eléni to go there.’

Tom pulled Cassia into a tight hug. ‘Maybe you should have told me... So Eléni’s done what she set out to do. I wonder how she tracked him down. I can’t wait for her to come home and to hear all about her trip.’

But my feelings have changed. There is no point in being bitter.

This letter is to thank you. Eléni told me what a happy childhood you gave her.

I believe her when she explained you genuinely thought there was no one left to look after her and you stopped her from being sent to an orphanage.

By the time I could get back to Kefalonia, she would probably not have been on the island anyway, but in a children’s home on the mainland. Eléni has made me see that.

‘There you are. All our lovely Eléni wanted was to find out about her birth family. She doesn’t love us any less.’

Your daughter has grown into a wonderful young woman and it is down to you and your husband. I have been able to give her photographs of the family. She may look like her mamá, but she takes after her baba with her artistic talents.

I understand from Eléni you have never been back to the island. You would not recognise it! I would very much like to meet you and thank you in person, so I hope one day you will return for a holiday.

Thank you again from the bottom of my heart.

Me ektímisi . Yours sincerely,

Kostas Koulouris

Cassia sat back in her chair with tears streaming down her cheeks. Tom took his wife in his arms and held her while she sobbed. All the fears about losing their daughter that she’d carried deep inside for so long fell away. ‘It’s okay. Let it all out.’

‘Oh, Tom. I wish I could see Eléni and tell her face to face how much I love her. And thank her.’

Tom squeezed her hand. ‘She’s done what she went to Kefalonia to do and our girl will be home before you know it, Cass. In her last letter, didn’t she say if she hadn’t found her uncle by the time of the twentieth anniversary of the earthquake, she’d be coming home? That’s just a few weeks away.’

Cassia folded the letter, knowing she would never part with it. ‘It will be a long few weeks,’ she whispered.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Tom reminded Cassia of what she’d said.

‘I’ve been thinking. If you can’t wait to see Eléni, why don’t we surprise her and go to Kefalonia for the anniversary?

You will get to thank her face to face much sooner and we can have a much-needed family holiday.

Bron’s been missing her terribly and has always wanted to go to Greece.

And Eugenia said she’d love you to be there for the anniversary, too, didn’t she?

It would be good for you two to spend some time together. What do you think?’

Cassia thought back to the words in her sister’s letter.

It was obvious that the visit from Eléni had thawed Eugenia’s feelings towards her.

She had, as Tom said, suggested visiting the island for the anniversary.

Twenty years! The catastrophic event had mapped out the rest of her life.

She’d never have met Tom, or their lovely Eléni.

She’d never have had Bronwen. Cassia had vowed she’d never set foot on Kefalonia again but. ..

‘I don’t know. There isn’t time to organise it, is there? Where will we stay? The hotels will be full by now. And what about work? I’ll have just started there.’

‘If you’d like to go, I’ll organise it. Didn’t Eugenia say we must stay with her if we ever visit?

Anyway, I’d like to go back. To remember all those poor people who perished.

Pay my respects to them. So please say yes.

I think Eugenia gave you a telephone number — a letter will take too long to get there. ’

Cassia nodded.

‘All right. I’ll ring her. If you’re sure we can organise it in time.’

She was surprised she’d agreed so quickly.

When she saw the wide grin on Tom’s face, Cassia knew she was doing the right thing.

She was going home! She went to get the other airmail letter that had arrived a week before the one from Kostas Koulouris.

Her hand shook as she dialled the number. ‘Eugenia? Yes, it’s me, Cassia.’