Back Summer in Greece
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for Patricia Wilson
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Prologue
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Chapter 11
  17. Chapter 12
  18. Chapter 13
  19. Chapter 14
  20. Chapter 15
  21. Chapter 16
  22. Chapter 17
  23. Chapter 18
  24. Chapter 19
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. Chapter 24
  30. Chapter 25
  31. Chapter 26
  32. Chapter 27
  33. Chapter 28
  34. Chapter 29
  35. Chapter 30
  36. Chapter 31
  37. Chapter 32
  38. Chapter 33
  39. Chapter 34
  40. Chapter 35
  41. Chapter 36
  42. Chapter 37
  43. Chapter 38
  44. Chapter 39
  45. Chapter 40
  46. Chapter 41
  47. Chapter 42
  48. Chapter 43
  49. Chapter 44
  50. Chapter 45
  51. Chapter 46
  52. Chapter 47
  53. Chapter 48
  54. Chapter 49
  55. Chapter 50
  56. Chapter 51
  57. Chapter 52
  58. More from Patricia Wilson
  59. About the Author
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. Author’s Note

Sensing my distress, Manno said, ‘Just promise me you’ll wait until the end of the war, agapi mou. Give me a chance to prove I can give you and our son a better life.’

Unable to speak, I nodded. We were just under the big oak tree when a van came speeding down Lighthouse Lane.

Neither of us heard the collision, and I’m sure the driver was unaware of it, but there on the verge, as still as death, was one of my father’s pigeons. I recognised it immediately. Icarus, a blaze of pure white feathers. I put the brake on the pram as Manno stooped to pick up the bird.

‘It is a sign,’ he said. ‘Such a beautiful bird. It is like an angel sent by the gods. Look, it comes back to life in my hands!’ The bird fluttered.

‘It has a broken wing, Manno. Best to put it out of its misery. I don’t want to see it suffer.’

‘No, agapi mou, I told you, it is a sign, don’t you see? There is so much I want to say, but the passion gets in the way and I can’t find the right words in English. I will fix his wing and send him back to you with a letter. Katarina will help me with the English. Do you have a box?’

Aware of time ticking by, I hurried to the pigeon loft and brought Manno a pigeon backpack – a bamboo cage with two leather straps to hold it onto the shoulders of a soldier.

‘Take care of my son, Gertie!’ he cried, marching towards Dover port just as a huge orange sun met the horizon, silhouetting him as he turned with a final wave.

I waved back, hoping he could not see the tears racing down my face, or feel the pain of my broken heart. And for all I know, I could not see the tears on his face, or feel his broken heart either. I wanted to think that it was over now, but I knew the love between us was eternal.

*

I never heard from Manno again, but my love for him has never died. Even to this day, I think about him often. My storm-tossed soul still clings to the wreckage of life.

Let me give you this advice. If you find love, darling Shelly, grab hold of it. True love is the only thing you should never let go, regardless of the difficulties, it is a rare and precious thing.