Free The Butterfly Storm by Kate Frost Page A

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care of and is now in a stable condition but she has suffered serious injuries.’
    ‘She doesn’t have a motorbike.’
    A flash of lightning lights the kitchen with an electric blue glow.
    The woman pauses. ‘It was her partner’s bike.’
    The plum-coloured varnish on my toenails is flaking off.
    I didn’t know Mum had a new boyfriend. ‘But she’s okay? She’s going to be okay?’
    ‘She’s stable, but she’s got a broken leg, is suffering with bruised ribs, concussion and has had
stitches to a cut on her right arm.’
    Thunder rumbles overhead.
    There’s a pause in the music. Despina shouts something to Takis.
    ‘Does your Mum live alone?’ the nurse asks.
    ‘Yes.’ Music starts up again, faster and louder.
    ‘Any relatives or friends close by?’
    ‘Only her parents in Sheffield, but they don’t get on. I wouldn’t know about any friends. She’s
moved since I lived with her.’
    ‘She’ll be in hospital for a few days but she’s going to need looking after once she’s discharged. Will
you be able to make arrangements?’
    ‘Yes. Yes of course.’
    I scribble the hospital’s phone number and Mum’s ward on a notebook tucked next to the menus. I
say goodbye and put the phone down. The rhythmic drum of rain on the kitchen windows is nearly
drowned by the noise from the restaurant. Alekos walks over.
    ‘I have to go to England,’ I say, gazing at the piece of paper in my hands.
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Mum’s been in an accident.’
    He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it again. He pulls me close and wraps his arms
around me. He smells of wood smoke. ‘Is she okay?’
    ‘I think so... I don’t know.’
    ‘Come upstairs.’
    His hand is hot in mine. We climb the stairs and head for our bedroom. Alekos switches on the
bedside lamp and I sit on the wicker chair next to the balcony window. He faces me with his arms
folded, legs tense, rooted to the spot.
    ‘Sit down, for God’s sake,’ I say. He does, on the white sheet folded on our bed. Our whole room is
white walls and white furnishings. My hair is the most colourful thing in the room. Despina likes
everything fresh and clean.
    ‘You’re seriously going to go?’ Alekos asks.
    ‘The nurse said she needs looking after.’
    Perched on the end of our bed he leans towards me. ‘You haven’t seen her in over four
years.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘Will she even want you there?’ Our knees almost touch.
    ‘She doesn’t have much choice, Aleko.’ I don’t care. It’s been three weeks since we returned home
from Santorini and already I want to escape again even if it means facing Mum. Our room lights up
with another flash of lightning. My hand finds his. ‘Come with me, Aleko.’
    His silence is all too familiar and the way his eyes shift away from mine so predictable. I know the
answer before he says a word.
    ‘You know I can’t,’ he says. ‘Mama will need me here.’
    ‘And I don’t need you? Have you forgotten everything I said on Santorini?’ I pull away from him
and slump back into the wicker chair and hug my knees to my chest. My head is blurred with wine and
ouzo. Behind the rhythmic drum of rain on the window, the music from the party continues in the
restaurant below. Alekos wipes sweat from his forehead and rolls his T-shirt sleeves to his
shoulders revealing tense muscles. He still looks like the man I first met but he behaves
like an obedient mummy’s boy. ‘I’m sorry Aleko, it’s just I could do with your support.
I haven’t seen her in a long time. We’ve had our troubles but she’s the only family I’ve
got.’
    ‘I’m your family, Sophie.’
    ‘Then get on the plane with me tomorrow.’
    His fingers reach for his cross and he pulls it from side to side on its chain.
    ‘Do you realise how difficult it was to get Mama to allow us four days off to go to Santorini? You
know I would go with you if I could. But she won’t be able to cope with us both gone.’
    ‘For fuck’s sake, Aleko, stand up