Tears streamed down the old woman’s face. ‘Everything’s gone. My photographs of dear Vasilis, the children, the grandchildren. All buried in a heap of rubble. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know where to go.’ Sophia paced up and down the road in front of her house, confused and disorientated. Cassia begged her to stop. Eventually her neighbour fell to her knees, letting out a piercing wail.
Cassia crouched down beside her. ‘It will be all right.’ She took Sophia’s hand in hers, stroking the papery skin and looking into her frightened eyes. ‘We’ll get through this, Sophia. We’re both lucky. Let’s see if we can find out what’s going on. It’s been hours since it happened. Someone will know where we can get shelter from this awful heat. I’ll go and find out.’
Cassia helped Sophia to her feet and in spite of being in pain, moved along the street to find someone to ask. By this time, crowds of people were milling around the end of the street where piles of rubble and large blocks of masonry were the only remnants of the houses. Some of the men were digging through the chaos with their bare hands.
‘They’ve got someone out!’ shouted a woman, pushing through the crowd trying to see who it was.
The man carrying a body shook his head, his face ashen behind the grime of the earthquake dust. ‘He’s gone.’ A howl from someone who was watching and waiting broke the grim silence that had descended on the crowd. The man walked overto where a pile of bodies lay and placed the latest victim down. Cassia looked away.
‘Where is everyone going?’ she asked anyone who would listen.
‘They’re setting up shelters in the park. The Red Cross has arrived, so anyone who is injured should go to Maitland Square, where they’re erecting tents,’ Demosthenes, another of Cassia’s neighbours, answered her. Just as he’d finished speaking, a loud crash from the last wall to collapse made everyone jump and hide their heads in their hands. ‘It isn’t safe here. Go to the open space of the park.’
Cassia thanked him and hung her head as another body was recovered, alongside one more wail of recognition from a bystander. She went back to get Sophia and led her up the street. It was now full of people, all walking in the same direction. Some carried crying children, others items of bedding, even chairs. Many clutched icons of Mary Theotokos, the mother of Jesus, retrieved from the ruins of their homes, all making their way in the direction of the park. When they approached the house where the desperate rescue was happening, another body was carried out. This time it was a woman dressed in a blue floral dress, caked in dust. Strands of long black hair obscured part of her face, but Sophia grabbed Cassia’s arm, her face distorted. ‘I know her. She’s got a little girl.’
She broke loose from Cassia and rushed up to one of the rescuers. ‘A little girl. About three. That’s her mother. Please, have you brought her out?’ She pulled on the man’s arm. ‘Please. Tell me.’
The man shook his head.
Sophia became hysterical. ‘She must still be in there. Her name is Eléni.’
Chapter Two
Cassia eventually persuaded Sophia they had to get away to safety. Large chunks of masonry fell around them as the tremors continued beneath their feet.
‘We can’t do anything, Sophia. They know about Eléni now, thanks to you.’ Cassia took her friend’s arm, and they joined the others trudging along the road. Some walked in silence, in shock; others shouted at each other as if to mask their panic. The town looked like a warzone. The elegant town hall had been flattened as if it had been bombed. The library had just one wall still standing, revealing empty, broken shelves and scattered books, whereas the other side was a heap of debris. The opposite end of the park was edged with evenly spaced oleander trees. Once standing perfectly upright, they were now at precarious angles where deep splits in the earth had uprooted many of them. The open space in the centre had been transformed into a place of shelter for those whose houses had been destroyed. Large tarpaulin sheets suspended on wooden poles covered makeshift beds, and these were to become their homes. Some people had managed to bring mattresses and chairs, but Cassia had nothing. Crowds of people wandered around looking for people they recognised.
Cassia found room for her and Sophia with a young family. The woman gave Sophia a blanketand helped Cassia settle the old lady onto a makeshift bed. Now clear of the pink-grey dust that had filled the air earlier, the night sky above them was inky black, dotted with stars and a full moon.
* * *
After tossing and turning on the thin mattress she’d been given for most of the night, aware of activity all around her, Cassia had finally drifted off to sleep. In the morning, she wasawoken with a start by the sound of shouting: ‘There’s a ship in the bay. British. Help has arrived.’
Cassia looked across at the tear-stained face of the woman lying on another mattress close to her. ‘Sophia? Did you hear that? We’re going to be all right.’
Sophia’s eyes were closed, but she nodded her head and began to sob.
Cassia patted her neighbour’s arm and persuaded her to sit up. ‘It’s good news. We’ll get help now.’
Once Cassia had settled Sophia and accepted water from the family sharing the shelter, she became restless and knew she had to do something. She made her way to the harbour where the ship was anchored in the bay. Walking along the quayside was treacherous, and she took care to avoid the large cracks in the slabs of concrete. Tugboats were travelling back and forth from the ship, HMSDaring. Its white ensign flag with the Union Jack in one corner fluttered in the breeze. The ship was piled high with boxes. Two lines of islanders snaked from the harbour wall to several waiting donkeys and carts. The sailors handed over boxes and these were passed along each line. Cassia joined the end of one, starting to pass each box as it arrived with her to one of the cart owners.
‘It is not too heavy for you, eh?’ One of the sailors from the ship checked the boxes onto the cart. He smiled at her. His Greek was halting with a heavy accent. ‘Here, I like to help you.’
She realised she was the solitary woman in a line of men. The sailor’s broken Greek suggested he did not have a full grasp of the language yet, so she answered him in English, grateful that her father had ensured she and her sister had a good command of the language. ‘I thank you. No, my arms are very strong.’ She laughed for the first time. ‘What is in them?’
The young man reverted to his own language. ‘These boxes contain medical supplies. That line has the food.’ He pointedto the second line where the boxes were much larger, and now sacks of grain were being handed along the men. ‘You picked the right line. Our ship was based in Malta, and we were commanded to get here as soon as the captain heard about the earthquake. I am Thomas Beynon. Tom.’
‘Cassia. Cassia Makris.’
She stepped back from the line, her arms and shoulders aching from the lifting. Once she stopped, she realised her arms were not as strong as she had boasted about to the handsome man standing in front of her.
Once the cart was full of boxes, he directed the cart owner to the Red Cross base.
Speaking slowly in Greek, Tom said, ‘Please, you go to find tents. They are in park. They are next to shelters. You must be very fast. They need this soon.’
The cart owner looked at Cassia for her to translate his Greek, which she did so. He nodded at the British man and left very quickly.
Cassia turned to Tom. ‘Efcharistó.Thank you.’ She spoke to him in his own language again. ‘Perhaps I will be of more help to the injured at the Red Cross centre than here. You are right. For a woman, the boxes get too heavy.’
