Page 7 of The Silent Sister

‘No! You can’t take her away! This town is all she knows. What about Arianna? The two are inseparable. I shall miss my little girl. She’ll miss me!’

Telling Sophia of their plans was harder than Cassia had thought. Her elderly friend voiced all the reasons why it was a bad idea, becoming distraught.

‘When things improve in Argostoli, the doctors will help Eléni talk again. I know they will. I could take her back to Athens with me. Thousands of others are leaving the island.’

Cassia looked to Tom for help, glad his Greek had improved in the weeks she’d known him. He took Sophia’s hand. ‘It is hard to say goodbye. We want the best for Eléni, eh? I know you want that too.’

With his gentle persuasion, she reluctantly agreed that it was in the little girl’s best interests to go to Fiscardo and live in a real home. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She brushed them away. ‘On one condition. You leave me your sister’s address.’

Cassia didn’t want to tell her that she and Eléni might not be welcome at Eugenia’s house. She quickly dismissed the unwanted thought.

‘ Efcharistó, Sophia. Eléni won’t forget you.

Once you get to Athens, please write and we will tell you how Eléni is doing.

I will continue to tell her stories like you do and let her do lots of drawing.

Last night I heard you singing a lovely lullaby soothing her to sleep.

I’m going to rename it “Sophia’s Song”. She won’t forget you.

I promise. We’ll talk about you all the time. ’

The two women hugged, both with tears in their eyes. Sophia called Eléni to her and they sat down as her surrogate yiayiá explained what was going to happen. At first, Eléni shook her head and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Tom intervened and explained they were going to a beautiful place where there were no broken houses, no rubble, no cracks in the ground.

‘You go to the beach and swim in the sea. Who knows? You find another friend like Arianna.’

At the sound of her friend’s name, Eléni burst into tears and rushed to where Arianna was sat drawing. She tugged on her sleeve and mimed she was going away. She pointed to her chest and then kept brushing her hand away. Cassia followed her and explained to Arianna’s mother that they were leaving.

When Arianna heard this, she started to cry too.

The two little girls hugged each other tightly and eventually had to be peeled away from one another.

Cassia wondered if she was doing the right thing.

What if they got all the way to Fiscardo for nothing?

Again, she speculated that Eugenia could reject her after the hurt she’d caused their family.

But her biggest worry was whether Eléni would shrink back into her shell after all the progress she’d made.

That night, Cassia hardly slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Eléni’s distraught face and Sophia’s expression as she tried so hard to be brave. At daybreak, the sun crept up into a sky brushed with bright shades of lemon and pale coral, almost as if it were willing her to have hope.

After gathering the few possessions they had — and eating a meagre breakfast prepared by Sophia — Tom, Cassia and Eléni left the park and walked to the harbour, where they found Stavros, the driver, waiting for them.

‘We’re off to Fiscardo, then. You will see a different scene, there,’ he said.

Just as he helped Eléni into the horse’s trap, a voice Cassia recognised called out to them. ‘Off anywhere in particular? Did I hear Fiscardo? I haven’t seen any of you for weeks now.’ She turned to face Rhodri Jones.

Oh, no. The last thing she wanted was for a reporter to know where they were going. She began to stumble over her words. ‘Umm . . .’

Not for the first time, Tom saved the day. ‘I hear you’ve been reporting on the good job us British sailors have been doing. Thank you.’

‘A pleasure, old chap. Folks back home should know how much these poor Kefalonians owe to you all.’

While Tom and Rhodri chatted, Cassia joined Eléni in the back of the trap where Stavros had placed cushions and blankets to make their ride more comfortable.

Her heart racing, she strained to hear what the two Welshmen were saying, hoping Tom had continued to avoid divulging the exact details of their journey.

Stavros gave a loud whistle. ‘Time to go,’ he shouted.

The two men shook hands and Tom raced over to the waiting trap.

‘Efcharistó, Stavros. Let us go.’ Tom stepped up into the trap and sat on the other side of Eléni. The perfect family , thought Cassia. But they weren’t, were they? And Rhodri Jones knew it.

As if reading her thoughts, Tom said, ‘It’s all right. I told him we were taking Eléni to see the donkeys on Stavros’s farm as a treat after she had been so ill. I said it’s on the road to Fiscardo.’

Cassia wondered if Rhodri Jones would have been fobbed off with the story, but there was nothing they could do about it now.

The main thing was that they were on their way to the part of the island where no one would know Eléni.

Cassia had to hope Eugenia would help her.

There was no point in arriving at her family home.

Her father had made it clear she was, in his own words, no daughter of his.

Although he was now dead, she knew her mother would still agree with him.

As they set off from the harbour, Cassia was shocked to see how far the devastation extended.

They were soon leaving the built-up areas and travelling along the open road.

The smell of thyme filled the air, so different from the dry dust they’d left behind.

The rhythmic clip-clopping of the horse on the rough road was soothing and lifted Cassia’s mood.

The weight filling her chest lightened the further they travelled from Argostoli.

She admired the colours of the landscape again.

The pines, the mountains on one side, the teals and turquoise of the sea below them on the other, stretching out in front of creamy limestone cliffs.

‘Look at that beach, Eléni. The sand is almost white. Wouldn’t it be good to play there and go in the sea?’

Ignoring her, the little girl looked straight ahead.

It was going to take time to regain the progress she and Tom had made with her.

Cassia had to keep hold of her conviction that what she was doing was right.

Tom ran his hand along the top of the carriage seat and patted her shoulder, mouthing words of comfort. ‘It’ll be all right.’

‘We’re over halfway,’ said Stavros. ‘Do you want to stop and stretch your legs or carry on?’

‘Please, can we go? The sooner we get there the better. Efcharistó, Stavros.’

There was still no reaction from Eléni.

* * *

The journey continued without incident. Nearing the beautiful village with its Venetian architecture caused feelings of nostalgia to flood through Cassia.

She had called this place home for over twenty years of her life.

Memories of a happy childhood all came flooding back — helping her mother with her embroidery-and-lace business, learning to cook her favourite moussaka and spanakopita, joining the partisans during wartime and meeting her beloved Nikos.

Stavros manoeuvred the horse and trap down through a narrow street that led to the harbour.

On either side were pristine houses rendered in every pastel hue imaginable.

There were more oleander trees with their pink-and-white blooms than Cassia remembered.

The last in the row was where Nikos had lived and where they used to meet, before life had become impossible, living in the same town as her father, who’d had so much influence there.

Her eyes misted when she thought of how happy they’d been when they’d moved to Argostoli, and of Angelika, the baby daughter they’d lost. Nikos had been overjoyed when he’d found out they had a baby on the way.

Tom interrupted her thoughts. ‘Are you all right, Cassia?’

She nodded. ‘Just memories. That house is where Nikos and I used to meet before...’ She stifled a sob. ‘So many painful things happened after the awful row with my father.’

One day soon she would tell Tom everything, including what had caused them to be estranged from her family. But not yet. He seemed to sense that she didn’t want to talk about it and reached across Eléni’s lap to squeeze her hand.

They stopped at the quayside. Fishing boats filled with nets and large pots were lined up along the harbour wall.

Facing the water was a ship chandler’s where a man with snow-white hair mended large ropes.

Cassia recognised him as a friend of her late father’s and hoped he wouldn’t look up from what he was doing.

She didn’t want her mother to know she was in Fiscardo. Not yet.

‘Where shall I take you?’ Stavros said.

‘My sister’s place, parakaló. You carry on this road past the harbour and up the hill. Then you will see her smallholding overlooking a tiny bay. Efcharistó. ’

Tom turned to Eléni. ‘It is not a long time now, cariad . We’ll soon go to the beach.’

Eléni didn’t change her expression. Cassia wondered what she was thinking, and yet again doubts filled her mind. Turning up with a child her sister knew nothing about could be a huge mistake. The horse slowed as the incline steepened.

‘We’ll have to get out and walk, I think.’ Tom’s joke brought a tiny flicker of a smile to Eléni’s face.

The little girl didn’t make eye contact with Cassia, but looked down at her hands resting on her lap. She nodded.