‘You’re thinking, “What will I do if my husband strays again?” Well, he won’t. I know he means to stay this time. I’ll go back to nursing when Maia goes to school.’
Cassia knew it was her sister’s way of saying Georgios had forbidden her to work outside the home. He already controlled her again.
When Eugenia insisted on driving Cassia and Eléni into Fiscardo, she didn’t object. They had very little to take with them. Because the atmosphere was cool between the two sisters, saying goodbye was brief. Maia got upset.
‘Why can’t Theía Cassia and Eléni stay, Mamá? I won’t have a friend anymore.’ Her eyes welled with tears as she clung to Cassia. ‘I want Eléni to have this.’ She handed over a well-worn teddy bear.
Eléni smiled and put her arms out to hug her friend. Cassia bent down beside her niece. ‘It’s very kind of you. Eléni won’t forget you. Who knows, once we find somewhere to live, perhaps your mamá and baba will let you come and see us. We’re not going to be far away, are we?’
It was for Maia’s benefit. While Georgios was back living with her niece and Eugenia, it was never going to happen. Afraid of breaking down in front of the little ones, Cassia turned and walked away in the direction of the market.
Although Cassia didn’t have any baked goods to sell that day, she used her stall as a base while she asked around for lodgings. The stall next to hers was run by a woman who sold a range of traditional Greek breads. She was about the same age as Cassia and they’d become quite friendly, chatting and swapping recipes.
‘Old Kýria Galanos has a room. Her son has decided to leave the island to find work. She says she is too old to go with him, but he’s going to send money home for her. She lives on Antipata Street, number fourteen. Say Rhea sent you.’
‘Efcharistó,I will try there.’
Taking Eléni by the hand, Cassia walked away from the market and up a slight incline until they found Antipata Street. The Venetian-style houses were painted in various pastel colours, typical of Fiscardo as a whole. Two-storeyed with wooden shutters, the houses had an air of being well kept and ordinary without being opulent or suggesting wealth as her parents’ home did.
They arrived outside number fourteen. Cassia took a deep breath as they walked up to the front door. ‘Here goes.’ She knocked on the door and waited. A white-haired woman opened the door a fraction.
‘Nai?’
‘Kýria Galanos? Rhea sent me. I understand you have a room to rent.’
The old woman looked Cassia up and down, and then rested her eyes on Eléni. She narrowed her eyes and looked intently back at Cassia.
‘No. I know who you are. You are trouble! What with your communist views. Your mother told me all about you and how you split her family by going off with Nikos Makris. I do not want a child in my house either. Especially his child. I am too old.’ She slammed the door and left Cassia open-mouthed, standing on the step with Eléni.
She wanted to ask when her mother had spoken to her. Recently, or when the row with Nikos had happened. What if everyone in Fiscardo thought of her that way? She’d been selling at the market for just a few months, and everyone had seemed friendly towards her. What if behind the smiles they looked down on her as the old woman did?
Chapter Twelve
They walked back into the centre of Fiscardo. Cassia felt desolate. She looked down at the little girl walking beside her. What right did she have to take Eléni from the only place she’d ever known as home? If they’d stayed, at least the authorities would have given Eléni somewhere to stay with the other earthquake orphans, even if it would have been temporary. Instead, the two of them were homeless, and the thought terrified Cassia. Tears burned along her eyelids as she berated herself for thinking she could manage on her own. The last time she’d felt like this was back in Argostoli just after the earthquake. Then, someone had come to her rescue. But the person who’d calmed her, reassured her that things would turn out all right in the end, was back at sea.Oh, Tom. How I wish you were here to tell me what I should do.
As they passed the post office, Cassia looked at the notices in the window. One jumped out at her.Vacant Room in return for help in Taverna Zervas. No children.The taverna that held so many memories for her! Both good and bad. Her heart sank. It would have been perfect. It was the only advertisement there, so she plucked up courage to walk to the street where she knew the taverna was situated. She’d enquire anyway. Overlooking the harbour, it was the bar she and Nikos had frequented. It was where, much to the disgust of her parents, the partisans had openly met in the years during and after the war, and where her father had disowned her. After the meetings, she and Nikos used to cross the narrow street and walk down the steps to sit on the bench under the large pine tree.
Cassia entered the taverna. It was gloomy inside. A shaft of light from the open doorway illuminated her way to the bar. There was no one there, so she pressed the brass bell on the polished surface. A strong smell of tobacco, garlic and cookingcame from what Cassia assumed to be the kitchen behind. Portraits of famous partisans lined the walls, the centre of which was a large black-and-white, head-and-shoulder portrait of Colonel Napoleon Zervas after whom the taverna was named.
She called out, ‘Kaliméra.’
A balding, florid man, as wide as he was tall and with a snow-white drooping moustache, came through from the back. ‘Nai?’
‘I see you have a vacant room. I’d like to apply to work in the taverna.’
He peered over the bar to look at Eléni. ‘No children.’
‘I know, but my daughter is very quiet. You won’t know she’s here.’ Cassia sounded as desperate as she felt. What she said was true . . . apart from the nightmares.
‘No. No children.’ He turned to go back into the kitchen.
‘I’m Nikos Makris’s widow. Do you remember him? We used to come here for meetings.’
The man stopped at the mention of Nikos’s name. He walked back around the bar to face Cassia and Eléni. ‘Ah, Nikos. One of the best. It was tragic he died fighting for what we all believed in, eh? And this is his daughter? She is very like him.’
Cassia didn’t correct him. How Nikos would have been amused at his comment. She knew her husband would approve of what she was doing for Eléni.
The old man smiled down on the little girl who was looking up at him with her large brown eyes. He tousled her hair. ‘Your baba was a good man.You will not disturb your mamá when she is working for me, is that right? You will be very quiet like your mamá says?’
