‘That’s so sad,’ said Catrin, sucking furiously on a spoon sweet.
‘But I don’t understand,’ said Judith, trying to calculate dates in her head, ‘George, my dad – he wasn’t living here then.’
‘No,’ said Maria with a wry smile. ‘Because Georgios he is a clever young man, and he sees a long time before the war that there is trouble coming between the Turks and the Greeks, and he thinks it will be dangerous to stay in the North, and so he says to his mother, We must leave, let’s go to our Theíos Nicolaous, our uncle in Kakopetria, where we will be safe. And in 1971 that is what they do – they move from Petra in the north and they come here and live in this house. Long before the war.’
Judith glanced at Lana, who was smoking one of Iannis’s cigarettes, clearly mesmerized as Maria continued to translate Sofia’s tale.
‘They live here for nearly two years. Georgios he had good job as a clerk with local government. Some days he travels to Nicosia—’
‘Blimey, I hope he didn’t go on that Bedford bus,’ Lana chipped in. ‘You need to be made of strong stuff for that!’
‘Shut up!’ hissed Catrin.
‘I can’t imagine my dad as a civil servant,’ Judith mused. ‘He works in a factory now. Electronics.’
Maria translated for the others and Judith thought she detected a hint of disappointment on their faces. Then she continued Sofia’s story.
‘But then Cyprus is becoming more troubled with the fighting, and everything is … how you say, uncertain? … and Georgios he worries that he will lose his job. And so he decide he will go to England for work – for one year maybe, get money and come home.’
Maria put her hand on Sofia’s, checking that she wanted to carry on. She nodded.
‘That was in the summer of 1973. He left and she never saw him again.’
‘Bloody hell! It doesn’t sound like George to just disappear like that. He’s always been such a decent bloke,’ said Lana, and Catrin glared at her again.
‘At first he would write to them,’ Maria said. ‘They did not have telephone then, so it was only letters. And presents!’ Maria smiled as Sofia talked of the gifts her brother had sent home – a snow-globe with Big Ben inside it, some Yardley soap for their mother, a tin of Walkers shortbread, even a pair of wellington boots! ‘All the time he was sending presents.’
‘And did you know where he was living?’ asked Judith.
‘No, he kept saying he would give an address when he settled, but that he was moving around so much there was no point.’ Sofia took a sip of water before she continued. ‘And then he writes and he says he has job,’ said Maria. ‘He is labour on building site and the pay is good. He say he will stay for eight more months and then he will come home, with money for them all.’
‘Except he never did …’ Judith said.
‘Except he never did,’ Maria repeated, and they sat in silence, taking it all in.
‘Right, so obviously that was because he met my mother and got married …’ said Judith. ‘I would’ve been about five or six then.’
‘I remember her coming to school to say she’d got a new daddy,’ said Catrin. ‘D’you remember that, Larn? We were in Mrs Owen’s class.’
‘God, yeah,’ said Lana, turning to Judith, her face lighting up. ‘And I was so jealous ’cos you got to be a bridesmaid and wear a nice dress.’
But Judith ignored her friends, trying to piece together all the information.
‘I know they got married really quickly after they met because they’d fallen head over heels in love,’ she said, looking over at her friends. ‘Hard to imagine now.’
‘Head over heels?’ Maria asked, confused by the idiom.
‘My mother, Patricia, she said she and George were very much in love and that’s why they got married so soon.’
When Maria passed this on to Sofia, she gasped and shook her head.
‘But I don’t understand why that stopped him coming back to Cyprus with her – with us!’ said Judith. ‘We could have met you all back then! Had a whole lifetime of knowing each other as a family!’ Her voice began to falter. ‘All this time I had cousins and an aunty … it would’ve helped. A lot.’
Catrin squeezed Judith’s hand to comfort her, but the impact of her father’s lies was beginning to register. ‘Why didn’t he tell me about you?’ she said, anger creeping into her voice. ‘And why didn’t my mother ever mention you? I’m sorry, I don’t think I can handle this.’
‘It’s all right, babe,’ whispered Lana. ‘It’s a shock, I know.’
Sofia then spoke quietly to Maria, as if divulging something, and they all watched as Maria challenged Sofia, unsure whether she should tell them the next part. ‘Sofia wants me to tell you about Cleoniki.’
‘Great!’ said Judith sarcastically. ‘So there’s more!’ And Catrin threw her another sympathetic look.
Sofia got up and began searching in the dresser as Maria continued.
‘In Cyprus we have something called proxenia. Like a make match? For son and daughter of two families.’
‘Bit like Blind Date!’ Lana chipped in.
Maria looked at her, confused.
‘It’s a show on ITV with Cilla Black,’ she mumbled. ‘Never mind.’
Maria nodded and carried on.
‘Well, Georgios had proxenia with Cleoniki before he left and they were a very good match – they were, as you say, “head over the heel”. And so they were betrothed. Cleo said she would wait for Georgios to come back from England after one year and then they would get married.’
‘Oh my God!’ Judith couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
‘But one day, Georgios he write to Sofia a short letter – this letter.’ Sofia nodded to Maria, passing her a faded envelope bearing a British stamp. She took a few moments to translate the contents.
Dearest Sofia – I cannot explain to you why I must do what I do, but please believe me that it is for the best. I cannot return to Cyprus. Never. And I cannot contact you again, nor my dearest mother. With all my heart I am sorry for hurting you, and for hurting Cleoniki, who surely deserves a man much better than me. I wish for you a peaceful life. I am sending you some money which can never make up for what I have done. Please forgive me in your heart and forget that you ever were cursed to have such a cowardly, weak brother. My love to you always, may God keep you safe, Georgios x
Judith noticed Lana look at Catrin, raise her eyebrows and slowly whisper, ‘F-u-c-k-i-n H-E-L-L!’
Curiosity outweighed her anger now. ‘OK, so obviously he’d married my mother, so he couldn’t come back and marry Cleoniki,’ she said, frustrated. ‘But it’s not the crime of the century, surely? People change their minds, don’t they?’
‘Yeah, like my cousin Lenny,’ Lana piped up. ‘He got jilted at the altar by his fiancée Meryl – she ran off with his own brother!’ They all stared at her. ‘Terrible, it was. Mind, they went ahead with the buffet ’cos it would’ve been a waste not to.’