The Butterfly Storm by Kate Frost Read Free Book Online Page A

your
mother.’ I turn to Despina. ‘You have no idea about my history with my mother. You also have no idea
how all my life I’ve longed to be part of a family. But I just need some space, Alekos needs space, Takis
needs space, my God you need space even if you don’t realise it. I’m not asking you to give
up your son and never speak to him again, I’m just asking for a little piece of him. We’re
talking about my future husband. Me wanting us to live on our own is simply natural, not
selfish.’
    ‘I didn’t say you were selfish,’ Despina says. ‘I said ungrateful.’
    ‘You have to have the last word, don’t you?’
    ‘Everyone!’ Takis shouts. ‘Silence!’
    I don’t think I’ve ever heard Takis sound so angry. Maybe Alekos could learn something from his
father.
    ‘Alekos, Sophie, you need time together.’ Takis takes his wife’s arm. ‘Give them a few minutes to
talk alone . We’ve got a restaurant to open.’ He steers her out of the apartment and the door closes shut
behind them.
    ‘Well done, Sophie.’
    ‘It’s about time someone stood up to her.’

Chapter 5
    It is rare to be on my own despite the restaurant being built within an empty landscape
of farmland and mountains. Since that argument six weeks ago I’m spending more and
more time at my spot by the fence. I retreat here daily for a bit of ‘me’ time but I always
feel watched. There are plenty of places for people to spy on me from. I catch Despina
peering down at me from her bedroom window, a folded sheet in her hands. Our eyes meet
and she busies herself. I know Alekos and Takis, even customers, can see me from between
the arches in the wall that shelters the patio. It’s like I’m a housemate on Big Brother .
But there is seemingly no release from this house, no Davina to guide me out the other
end.
    If Despina is unaware of my mood she’s certainly concerned why I’m outside in ‘bitter conditions’.
Her words. It is cold but it’s hardly a damp creeping cold that chills not only your skin but also right to
your core – that’s my memory of freezing, miserable winter days in England. The fence looks as if it’s
been dusted with icing sugar. The ground is hard and decorated with frost patterns. With the haze of
summer gone, Mount Olympus is clear, its rocky crags revealed, dark against the snow; a jagged white
outline against the darkening sky. I have a scarf slung round my neck, for comfort more than
warmth, and I’ve shed the thick winter coat Despina makes me wear the moment I step
outside.
    Soon people will arrive for the New Year’s Eve celebrations, not just customers (mostly regulars
who know Despina and Takis well) but friends and family, basically anyone, however loosely connected
to the Kakavetsis family, will be here. It isn’t a normal night. Despina refuses to slave in the kitchen, so
we’ve prepared a massive buffet all laid out on tables that stretch the length of the restaurant. There
will be live music and dancing – and I mean a lot of dancing, until our heads spin and feet
ache.
    The frost has melted where I’ve gripped the fence so hard. My fingers are frozen and red. I hear a
car crunch its arrival. I lean back against the fence and face the restaurant. It’s decorated with tiny
lights that can be seen all the way down the road. On this side of the patio wall was where Alekos
proposed to me in the summer. I remember waking up early the next morning, creeping from our
bedroom, past Despina and Takis’ room, and outside into the warmth of dawn. The puddles from the
storm had nearly evaporated; the garden, grass, flowers, trees and fields looked drained of
colour, dry and weighed down by the intense summer heat. I’d crossed the patio and lawn
to this fence and looked towards the clear outline of Olympus with its varying shades of
purple and grey against the blue sky. I found the drowned butterfly, its wings flattened
and pale against the red bricks of the arch. I buried it in the ground