‘He told me he’d seen a couple take a little girl away in a farmer’s horse and trap with a doubtful explanation of going to visit the animals on the man’s farm. He didn’t believe them and found out they’d gone to Fiscardo to the woman’s sister.’
‘And you tracked my Theía Eugenia down and visited her there.’
Kostas sat back on the sofa. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Because my aunt warned my mother someone was looking for me.’
His face turned red as he stood and paced the floor, his voice rising. ‘And she did nothing about it? How could she?’ Her uncle spat the words out.
Eléni spoke in a whisper. ‘Please don’t be angry, Theíos Kostas. She just did what she thought was best for me. Shehonestlythought I had no one. She saved me from going into an orphanage. I had such a happy childhood. I’ve heard awful stories about cruelty if I’d been taken in by the authorities.’ Eléni thought of Simos and the life he’d had.
Kostas’s face remained serious. ‘But she denied me finding the one member of my family who’d survived!’ Calming down, he brushed away a tear and returned to sit beside his niece. ‘Anyway, I sorted myself out and brought Philia and Theo to Argostoli. We made our life here on the island where I could be close to my sister and parents, and where I grew up.’ He turned to Eléni and let out a big sigh. ‘She had no right to do that, youknow. But I can’t change what happened. Let’s see where the men are.’
Eléni noticed the framed photographs displayed on a dark wooden bureau. As well as a wedding photograph with a young-looking Kostas as the groom and a portrait of a baby that must be Theo, one stood out to Eléni. Her heart skipped a beat. It was like looking in a mirror. It had to be her mother. The same heart-shaped face, the huge dark eyes and the curly hair reaching below her shoulders. Her hands shaking and her eyes welling with tears, she asked, ‘Is this my mamá?’ She knew full well it was.
‘Nai.Wasn’t she beautiful?Youare beautiful.’
For the first time since Eléni had found out, the feeling of not knowing who she really was lifted. She at last knew whose blood ran through her veins. First seeing her father’s photograph in the school hall in Fiscardo, and now this one of her mother, had had such a profound effect on her. She had one person to thank. Simos Georgatos.
Her lip trembled. ’She was very beautiful. And who’s this?’ Eléni pointed to another photograph. One of a little girl about five, which was in colour.
‘My granddaughter, Amara. Remind you of someone?’
‘She looks like my mamá, I think.’
‘And you!’
They joined Theo and Simos outside. The small courtyard was partially shaded by a wooden pergola, draped in a well-established magenta bougainvillea.
‘Ah, good. You’ve got glasses for us, too. Help yourself to the lemonade, Eléni. Homemade, using the new-fangled juicer my posh son gave me, no doubt.’
Theo laughed. ‘Well, someone has to use it, Baba. I found it still in the box!’
It was clear father and son got on well. Eléni felt a pang as she wondered what life would have been like for her if Kostas Koulouris had returned to the island earlier and then berated herself for her disloyalty.
It was soon time to leave. The old man disappeared into the house and brought out a handful of small black-and-white photographs.
‘Here, you must have these, Eléni. To remind you of your real family.’ His voice became scratchy.
Eléni’s heart raced. There were photos of a baby at different ages, some of a toddler with black curls and others of a young couple she recognised as her parents. Her eyes pricked with tears. She turned over each one to see they had been labelled and dated. The baby and young child was her. Her uncle pulled her into a hug.
‘This is a special one,’ he said, handing her a bigger photograph of an older woman dressed in black with her hair pulled back from her face. She held a young child who looked up at her with a wide smile on her face. ‘I took this on your fourth birthday before I left to work in Australia. Mamá adored you. Her first grandchild.’ His eyes misted with tears. ‘It was the last time I saw her.’
Eléni hugged him tighter. ‘Efcharistó, Theíos Kostas. I shall treasure them. And thank you for looking for me. I’ll come and see you again before I leave. Perhaps on a Monday. It’s my day off.’
Chapter Fifty-Three
She’d been working at the taverna for several weeks. It now wasn’t long until the anniversary of the earthquake and Argostoli was growing busier with holidaymakers. Eléni worked some longer shifts but managed to keep her Mondays free and not work any more evenings. She saw Simos whenever she could and spent her free time drawing. Before visiting her uncle again, she’d wanted to finish a drawing of the church with the bell tower so she could present it to him as a gift to remember her by.
She took the ten o’clock bus to Farsa. There were few seats left and even in the morning, it was stiflingly hot. She smiled to herself when she compared the bumpy, uncomfortable ride with the luxury of the one in Theo’s sleek convertible. Once at her uncle’s cottage, she called through the beaded curtain. ‘Theíos Kostas. It’s me, Eléni!’
The old man greeted her with a beaming smile and kissed her on both cheeks. After making frappés, they sat outside under the pergola and chatted.
‘Your mamá was a talented embroiderer and lacemaker, you know.’
Eléni gasped. ‘Cassia did that, too. It’s such a coincidence, don’t you think? And I don’t know one end of a needle from another.’
They both laughed.
