“Elena?” It came out as a mere whisper.
“I’m sorry. My name is Kate.” She hoped he understood English
He continued to stare, talking hurriedly in Greek but she had no idea what he was saying.
“Papa!” A woman ran across the road. Coming to the man’s aid, she took hold of his arm. Kate studied her a moment before speaking. The woman had strong Greek features. The sun had kissed her ageing lined face, and her eyes sparkled. Kate noticed that her short brown hair was streaked through with grey and she guessed that she was in her late fifties or early sixties.
“He saw me sitting on the wall and keeps trying to say something to me.” Kate explained, hoping the woman spoke English. Thankfully she did.
“I’m sorry, he is so old, he gets confused and unsteady on his feet.”
The old man pointed at Kate once more. “Elena.”
Kate heard it then for the first time. “Did he just say Elena?”
“Yes.” The woman said. “It is strange. He has been saying it a lot recently. We have no idea why. I am Sophia.”
“Hi Sophia, I’m Kate.”
“Nice to meet you, Kate.”
Sophia turned to her father and spoke rapidly in Greek. He glanced up at Kate and confusion crossed his face again. He pointed at Kate and spoke frantically trying to explain something to his daughter.
“My father is convinced that he knows you or at least someone who looks a lot like you. Like I said, he does get confused. I should get him home.”
“Do you need any help?” Kate spied the full bags of shopping on the ground that Sophia had dropped in her haste to get to her father.
“If you do not mind? Thank you.”
“Not at all.” Kate lifted the bags and followed Sophia as she slowly helped her father along the road. Their house was built of stone, had a pitched tiled roof and painted wooden shutters on every window. Kate followed them into their home and placed the shopping on the side while Sophia helped her father into a chair in the back garden.
When she came back into the house, Sophia said, “Thank you for your help, Kate. Would you like a drink before you go?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you.”
“Have a seat outside; I will be out in a moment.” Sophia motioned to the door and Kate stepped out into the small back garden. To the right was a large table surrounded by chairs, sheltered overhead by a wooden veranda. Sophia’s father sat in a chair in the corner, his eyes closed to the world, lost in sleep or his own thoughts. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, Kate pulled out a seat opposite and relaxed back into it. Sophia appeared carrying a tray of drinks and she took a seat between her guest and her father.
“So how long have been on the island?” Sophia asked.
“Just over a week.”
“Are you staying close?”
“No. I’m in an apartment in Kypseli. It’s nice and quite secluded.”
“That is a good choice. Much better than Laganas, not so much partying,” Sophia laughed.
They fell silent but, as awkward as the moment was, Kate felt comfortable with them.
“How long are you here for?” Sophia asked.
“Only two weeks.”
“A nice long holiday.” Sophia smiled.
“Yes. Well it’s a little more than a holiday.” Kate had no idea why she was opening up to this woman, but she found herself spilling her heart out. “My life is a bit of a mess. I’m adopted and we think that my real mother was Greek. My real name is Katerina. My birth mother died years ago, but she left me a letter telling me I had family here on Zakynthos but she did not know much about them. Her dying wish was that I come here and find out where I came from.”
“Ah, I see. And even though you have little to go on, you still came and are doing what you can to find out who you really are?”
“Yes. Something like that,” Kate sighed.
“How very Greek!” Sophia laughed. “Maybe we can help? Papa has known many families on the island. What was your mother’s name?”
“Athena. There’s no surname in the letter, but it does mention a Sarkis family and someone called Elena Petrakis.”
Sophia’s hands flew to her face, disbelief fluttered in her eyes. She could barely speak. “Sarkis! Did you say Sarkis?”
“Yes. Why? Do you know someone of that name?” Kate’s heart thudded in her chest and her mouth was dry. Sweat had gathered on her palms and she wiped them on her trousers.
“Papa’s name is Sarkis. Angelos Sarkis. This cannot be.” Sophia glanced at her father blissfully asleep and unaware in his favourite chair. “I am sorry Kate, this is a big shock. I need to speak with my father. You said he recognised you earlier, or something about you. If what you say is true, then he may be the person to help you. But he is old, Kate, and very unwell. I do not want to upset him. He looks stronger than he is, but he is not. This late in his life he needs to relax and rest, and does not need a great shock. I do not know what to do. You must let me think about what is best for him.”
Kate nodded. It was as good as she was going to get. She looked over at the old man, the person who held the key to her family history.
“Of course, Sophia. The last thing I want to do is upset you, or him.” Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled her apartment details on it. “If you change your mind, you can reach me here.”
“Okay. I cannot promise you anything, Kate. I have to do what is right for my father. He is my priority.”
“Of course, I understand,” Kate said as she stood. “Thank you for the drink.”
“You are very welcome.”
Sophia saw Kate to the door and leaned against the frame, watching as the beautiful longhaired English woman climbed into her hire car and drove away. As she closed the door, she let out a long weary sigh. She had a very big decision to make, and really did not know what to do for the best. She knew her father had been in turmoil for some time. Many a night, she and her husband were woken by his pitiful cries, but never once had he confided in his daughter. Never once had she learned what pained him so. Now she had an opportunity. She had seen the look on her father’s face. It was as though, when he looked at Kate, he was staring at a ghost. She had no idea what to do, but while her father was still pained by the secrets he carried, Sophia would always worry.
~
The following day, Kate had no idea what to do with herself. Nikolaos Makris had told Kate that Angelos was the person to talk to and by some fluke she had found him. Now all she could do was wait for Sophia to contact her. She felt she should stay near the hotel just in case Sophia called, but then she worried that if she stayed there, Sophia would not ring at all. She had her mum’s voice going around her head: “A watched pot never boils, Kate.” Eventually she gave up and decided to go for a walk. Maybe some fresh air and a change of scenery would do her some good?
Walking towards the small beach near her hotel, her mind turned over again. She wondered if Athena had been born on the island, and if so, had Angelos known of her? There were so many unanswered questions and they tumbled though her mind like pebbles caught in waves. She was desperate for Sophia to call her. The old letter had mentioned a Sarkis family, so they must have known about Athena? Or maybe the name Sarkis was like a Greek version of Smith? Maybe this place was filled with people called Sarkis and she would never find what she was looking for. Letting out a frustrated shout, she kicked a stone along the road. Why was life so hard sometimes? Why could her life not have been simple?
Arriving at the beach, Kate sat down on the warm pebbles and crossed her legs, watching the waves swish back and forth. It was the same beach she had sat on when she first arrived on the island. The day she had thought long and hard about Fletch and cried over him. It was stupid really, but whenever she was close to the sea, it felt like she was close to him. She wished she knew where he was. He would have loved Zakynthos, and she wished she could have visited the sites with him. He would not have been able to surf
here, but he would have swum in the crystal waters and dragged her in behind him, even if she had not wanted to. They would have talked and laughed, drunk Mythos beer and eaten delicious meals in small tavernas overlooking the sea, and walked hand in hand content in each other’s company. They had always had so much fun together, and now it was all gone. Kate shook herself. Not again, she would not shed tears over him again. He was gone and he was not coming back. It was time to face facts and just get used to life without him.
Leaving the beach, she walked up the lane to the main road. It was lined with olive trees and wildflowers, and she stopped to watch a small lizard that was basking in the sun. They were fascinating creatures and looked so prehistoric and out of place in Europe. On the main road at the top of the lane was a small shop, where she bought some more bottled water and snacks to keep her going. She liked the walk up to the shop. The scenery was beautiful.
Michelle greeted her with a wave as she arrived back at the hotel.
“You had a phone call. A lady called Sophia.”
Kate’s heart leapt and she felt the excitement fizz within her. “What did she say?”
“She’s spoken to her father and thinks you should go and see them at ten tomorrow morning. She said meet them at her house.”
Sophia had said yes; she was going to allow Kate to talk to her father. Kate hugged a bemused Michelle tightly and ran up to her room filled with excitement.
~
Fletch had managed to get through five days of laddish behavior without much more than a few hangovers. The argument with Jase still weighed heavily on his mind. He had shaken Jase’s hand and apologised for attacking him in the club, but only to make Shane happy. He was still furious with Jase, and he knew that once this week was over, it was the last he would see of either man. His excuse for not going to the wedding was already set. He would not even be in the country. His promise to stay in England and sort his life out was gone. As soon as he returned home, he was packing up his bags and leaving England for good. He would go back to California, and sort his life out. His pining over Kate had gone on for too long. He had to get over it and admit the fact that she was never going to be part of his life. This time he would start a new life and stick to it.
Looking across at Shane and Jase, he saw they were both asleep on their sunloungers. He was bored and could not wait for the holiday to end, as far as he was concerned, those two days could not go quickly enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Zakynthos, Greece, 1943
Commandant Brandt was already seated at the table when Mayor Vallis and Bishop Ioannou walked into the Sarkis house. They took their seats opposite the German who was lighting a cigarette. The commandant had moved their meeting to the end of the day, which favoured the resistance. Their plan was already set in motion. The Mayor and Bishop just hoped that the resistance would be successful.
Outside, the sun cast an eerie glow over the olive groves as it began its descent.
“So, gentlemen, do you have my list?”
The mayor nodded and pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. He handed it to the bishop first for him to read. Once he had looked at it, the bishop pushed it across the table. Pulling on his cigarette, the commandant opened the piece of paper and scanned it.
“What is this? It says Metropolite of Zakynthos Bishop Ioannou, and Mayor of Zakynthos Vallis. These are your names. Is this a joke? Where are the other names?”
“It is not a joke. That list is correct. Those are the names you are seeking, commandant.” The bishop leaned forward looking directly at the German. “If you are not happy, you can arrest me. If this solution does not satisfy the Germans then I will be happy to go straight into the gas chambers with the other Jews.”
Mayor Vallis sat in silence, allowing the bishop to speak. The atmosphere in the room was tense and he could see that the commandant was angry. Mayor Vallis knew that, at that very moment, the resistance were rescuing every Jewish family on the island and taking them to secret hiding places in the hills. Where exactly, the mayor and bishop did not know. Elena was right; it was safer for them not to know. He only hoped that they could get them all moved by the time the meeting with the commandant was over.
“If you do not believe that I am serious then you must do as you see fit, Commandant. I have also written this letter. It is for Herr Hitler himself. I trust you will pass it to him?”
The commandant took the small envelope from the bishop, and turned it over in his hands. He was rattled. The Greeks were playing a dangerous game with him, and it was one he had not expected. Now they mentioned writing to the Führer himself, which made him more than uncomfortable. Duty meant he was obliged to send the letter, and now his hands were tied. He did not want his superiors to think that a lowly bishop and mayor had outsmarted him, but what else could he do?
“And what does this letter say?”
“That is between me and Herr Hitler, but know this, Commandant, I am the Bishop on this island. Any Jews living on Zakynthos fall under my authority and therefore cannot be harmed by your army.”
The commandant did not like being told what to do, but even he knew that a sealed letter for the Führer could not be opened by the likes of him. He could burn it and pretend it had been sent, but if the Führer ever found out, Brandt would be executed. He had no choice but to send it. He motioned to a young soldier and instructed him to see the letter on its way. He turned his attention back to the two men before him.
“You have played your hand very well, Bishop, Mayor. Your letter will be sent to the Führer and we will see what he says. Until then, you are free to go about your lives as normal. You will have this list back though. I do not believe it is correct. Know this, you will give me the full list of names when I next ask for it.”
The bishop took the list and passed it to the mayor who put it safely in his pocket. The two Greeks stood and left the room, grateful to be leaving with their lives. The commandant stood at the window and watched them leave the house. Once they were out of sight, his temper boiled over. The commandant raged through the room like an infuriated bull. He lifted chairs, flung them at the walls, and watched as ornaments and pictures smashed, and wood splintered. Nothing was left untouched. His staff heard the noise, but no one dared to interrupt him; they feared him too much.
~
Elena ran through the streets under cover of darkness. She had to get to the next house as quickly as possible. Her heart was thudding in her chest, the adrenalin coursed through her and, despite knowing she would die at the hands of monsters if she were caught, she was enjoying every second. As she reached the house, she slowed to a walk. Hiding under the boughs of a small tree, she checked the area for the enemy, but all was quiet. Silently, she crept to the house and knocked on the wooden door. Moments later it opened and she squeezed inside, pushing the door closed behind her. In the hallway stood a nervous and frightened family: father, mother and a daughter who looked to be about eight years old. Quickly, Elena explained who she was and why she was there. She told them to get as many clothes as they could carry and any personal items of sentimentality. They would not be coming back.
“You have five minutes and then we must go. You must stay quiet on the road and do exactly as I say. You cannot speak or cry out and you must obey my instructions. If we are caught, the Germans will not hesitate to use us as an example. They will kill us. Do you understand what I am saying?”
Scared, the family nodded. Leaving the daughter with Elena, the father and mother moved around the small house, quickly packing what they could. When their five minutes was up, Elena beckoned them to be quiet before opening the door. She motioned for them to stay where they were. Once she had checked the street, they crept out into the darkness using the shadows and foliage for cover. As they rounded the corner into an old farm track, she walked straight into a tall figure.
“Halt!” said the male voice and Elena stopped dead, barely inches away from a gun that pointed directly at her. Sh
e heard the mother whimper behind her and motioned to the family to stay quiet.
“Elena?”
She recognised the voice and pushed the man back into the shadows, simultaneously pulling the family along with her.
“Angelos?”
“Yes. What are you doing here?”
“Nothing. What are you doing here?” She remembered Dionysis’s words.
Trust no one.
“I have joined up, Elena. Dionysis thought you might need help.”
Elena gauged him and thought for a moment. They were not safe standing here in the open with only minimal shadows and trees to cover them. She could hear the family getting restless, and knew they were sacred, but did not know what to do for the best. She had known Angelos for a long time. Angelos was the father of her child and she still loved him, but his father had worked with the Italians and it was not so long ago that Angelos had chosen to stand with Loukas. Could she really trust him?
“I know you are doubting me, Elena, but you can trust me.”
“Can I?”
“Yes. I swear to you on Athena’s life that I am on your side. But we cannot stay here and discuss it. We both know what will happen if the Germans catch us. We must get out of here.”
The moment he swore on their daughter’s life Elena knew that he was one of them. She motioned to the family and the five of them hurried as quietly as they could up the path to a field. She had already planned her route and, in a few hours, under cover of darkness, trees and hedges, the family would be safely hidden in the hills.
“I am glad you are here, Angelos,” Elena whispered as they slinked their way through the trees. They had been silent for a long time and she felt the need to break it.
“Me, too. You are so brave, Elena. I could never be as brave as you.”
“You are here now, that is what matters.”
Among the Olive Groves Page 22