Read Online The Thread by Victoria Hislop - Free Book Online Page B

never reach them, was gutted. Leonidas’ favourite haunt, a seafront café on the edge of Eleftheria Square, had met the same fate. The square, which had been the heart of the city’s social life, was now silent.
    The two men finally reached the area just north of the port where the main Komninos warehouse was situated.
    Both stood and stared at what remained of the vast apothiki . It was completely gutted.
    ‘My beautiful warehouse,’ whispered Konstantinos after a few moments. ‘My beautiful, beautiful warehouse.’
    His younger brother looked at him and realised he was weeping copiously.
    It was as if he was lamenting the loss of a lover, Leonidas reflected, shocked to see his older brother display such emotion. Even when their mother had died unexpectedly, his brother had not shed this quantity of tears.
    As they stood surveying the devastation, a German aeroplane flew over. The pilot would report back to his superiors that Thessaloniki had made a good job of destroying itself. They could not have done it better themselves.
    Meanwhile, a local, French language newspaper was preparing its first edition following the fire. Its stark headline said it all:
LA MORT D’UNE VILLE
DEATH OF A CITY

Chapter Four
    F OR FIVE DAYS , Olga heard nothing from her husband but she was so preoccupied with her baby that she hardly gave him a thought. Night and day blended into each other, all of them wakeful, all of them sleepless. Sometimes she managed to rock little Dimitri off to sleep, but usually it was only for half an hour or so.
    Pavlina shared Olga’s room in the grand home in Perea that belonged to Konstantinos’ old friend, a wealthy shipper who imported many of his consignments of fabric. From their window ten kilometres away around the coast, they could see the pall of smoke still sitting above the city.
    The devastation of Thessaloniki seemed distant to Olga but on Thursday she received the news from Konstantinos that virtually all he owned had been destroyed.
    ‘I am so sorry,’ said her hostess, with tears in her eyes. ‘How awful for you … to lose everything!’
    Olga appreciated her concern but could not respond to this with the emotion required. Yes, it would be terrible to lose everything, but she did not feel it was true. She held ‘everything’ in her arms. This baby was now the centre of her world and nothing else mattered.
    The following day Konstantinos, who was staying in a hotel in an undamaged quarter of the city, went to visit his wife and baby. He was already salvaging what remained of the warehouse. The entire stock had been destroyed but the foundations of the walls were still solid and he was already starting to rebuild. He had sent out orders so that he could build up his inventory again and was going to need somewhere for storage as soon as the new fabric arrived. Within a few days of filing his insurance claim, Konstantinos had put his emotions to one side.
    ‘I will build an even better, stronger business than before,’ he assured Olga.
    Work would not begin for many months on their home. It was not Konstantinos’ priority. Meanwhile, Olga knew that the kind hospitality she was receiving in Perea could not be for ever. It was an arrangement that was meant to last only a few days and by then they had been there for two weeks.
    Although the seafront, and most of the city north-west of it, had been destroyed, the section of the upper town where Olga had grown up remained undamaged.
    The small house at 3 Irini Street that she and her sister had jointly inherited from their parents was currently empty and Olga thought it would be the ideal place to stay while repairs were being made. Her sister had moved to Volos two years earlier to live with her son.
    The next time that Konstantinos came out of the city to visit them, she tentatively suggested that they move there until the villa could be rebuilt.
    ‘It’s small, I know, but there will be enough space …’
    Her voice tailed off. She