Mum is OK and then she’s distraught. Her spirits go up and down.’
‘It’s going to take time. These things can’t be rushed, they have to be processed gradually,’ Keith replied. ‘In many ways a shock like this is almost like a bereavement.’
‘I’m so glad you’ve come, Dad,’ she said and reached out to squeeze her father’s hand. ‘And you, Alex. It will be good for Mum.’
On arrival they found Eleni and Froso waiting for them in the garden. They had both wanted to drive with Calli to the airport, but she had put them off: ‘No space in the car, what with their luggage and all . . . the two of you had better stay here, don’t you think?’
Eleni agreed reluctantly, but anticipation got the better of her and she spent most of the time it took Calli to collect them in the kitchen, cooking. Froso sat at the table, looking on while she worked, aware that it was Eleni’s way of dealing with her anxiety. In the quietness of the kitchen, with no one else around, Froso started to talk.
‘I would have given anything for things to have been different, Eleni mou,’ she began. ‘I knew I should have spoken to you. It was your right to know.’ She paused and looked at Eleni, waiting for a response, but none came; Eleni kept her head down and continued with her chopping. ‘I knew I owed it to you to speak up . . .’ Froso paused again, ‘and now . . . now it’s almost too late, but it was so hard to find the right time, to find the right words. I knew it would change everything and that you might resent me or worse still, hate me for lying to you.’ She sighed. ‘I accept that it was cowardly of me. But I couldn’t bring myself to speak and I suffered for it all these years. Then once I got sick, I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to absolve myself of this secret which had been eating away at me. It was time I spoke the truth.’
Froso looked up at Eleni again with pleading eyes. ‘I thought that at least we could spend what time I have left on this earth being what we truly are to each other . . .’
She stopped talking, leaned forward on her elbows and waited expectantly. Finally Eleni turned round and looked at Froso. She wiped her hands on her apron, dried her eyes with the back of her hand, walked over to the table and put her arms around the older woman’s shoulders.
‘None of it was your fault, Froso mou . . .’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion and kissed the top of her head. ‘You have carried this burden for long enough . . . now it’s time to share it. I might not be able to call you Mama because I have lived all my life loving you as my sister, but the love is no less.’
‘I have loved you as my child since I was a child myself,’ Froso replied, eyes overflowing. ‘Now that you know, it is enough for me. I am your mother and I will be that for as long as I live.’
‘You have plenty of time yet, Froso mou,’ Eleni said as she sat down next to her. ‘I’ve seen your medical notes. Your prognosis is good . . . If need be, we’ll take you to London to see our doctors there.’
Mother and daughter sat in the kitchen, holding each other and letting their tears silently fall, until eventually they helped each other to their feet and, arm in arm, stepped out into the garden to sit in the shade of the two olive trees and wait for Calli, Keith and Alex to return.
That afternoon, after the family finished their lunch and before the sun started to wane, Eleni took Keith’s arm and led him to her carob tree hideaway; she needed time alone with him. The sun was still warm on their backs and the breeze blew gently from the shore as they slowly wound their way up the hill. Keith was her soulmate, her mentor, her friend, her beloved husband of so many years who had listened and supported her and had loved her ever since they first met. They had been through so much over the years, births and deaths, joys and sorrows, and she knew that together once again, with his support