Honeymoon with Death

by Vivian Conroy

  Honeymoon with Death

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  “Don’t look,” the excited voice beside her teased.

  “How can I look?” Damaris Ramsforth reached up to touch the silk shawl that was wound around her head, covering her eyes. Teddy had insisted on it as soon as they had stepped onto the boat. His hands had tenderly put the shawl over her eyes and then bound it behind her head. Anything he did was tender and kind. Right now his hand was on her lower back steadying her, assuring her that he was still there beside her; that, while her world was in darkness, he hadn’t left her side.

  That was the only blemish on her shining happiness. The fear he’d leave her. That she would find herself alone again. Not just alone like you could be sitting at a table in a tearoom on your own and looking at the chatting and laughing ladies and wishing you had a friend with you to talk to so time didn’t drag like it did now. Not alone like you could be on a train wishing someone would come sit beside you and chat with you so the journey wouldn’t last for ever.

  No, alone like a child gone lost in a dark forest, with rain setting in and thunder growling above. A child starting to run to get out of the woods but only getting into it deeper and deeper and deeper. Brambles clutching at clothes and tearing skin. Rain lashing ice cold in your face. Your legs getting heavier and heavier until they could carry you no longer and you fell down on the wet earth and lay there shivering and crying and wishing someone would come to take you home. But there was no home any more.

  Damaris widened her eyes to push away the nightmare images. Her dreams were always so vivid, as if those things had really happened. She should be used to it by now, but somehow, they still unsettled her. Because the darkness pressed upon her. She couldn’t see.

  No doubt Teddy meant well, wanting to surprise her. Everything had been a surprise so far. The idea of a honeymoon, being able to go away from London and her dreary job as a typist, her small flat, her meagre income which didn’t even allow a weekend in Brighton, let alone a two-week trip to Greece.

  She laughed out loud.

  Greece! Little Damaris in Greece.

  It had to be a dream. A good dream this time, happy images. A feeling of love and belonging. Teddy had changed her life completely. From this day forward she’d never be afraid again.

  “Just one more minute, darling,” Teddy said. His lips brushed her cheek.

  She giggled. “You know how to keep me in suspense.”

  “I want you to see it when it’s most perfect. Just wait a few more heartbeats. Count them. One, two, three.”

  Damaris closed her eyes under the blindfold. Teddy’s counting whisked her back to the evening he had driven her home from the cinema and the weather had turned grim. Rain had lashed at the car’s windscreen, and lightning had set the grey streets of London alight. She had cried out and hidden her face in her hands. Teddy had stopped the car and taken her into his arms. He had counted, sang her a song. He had comforted her like no one had in her life before. No one but…

  Damaris’s eyes flew open again, but the darkness lasted. Her heart pounded painfully, and she wanted to reach up and tear the blindfold away because she couldn’t stand it any longer. But she couldn’t ruin Teddy’s surprise. He thought she was enjoying this. He wanted to make her happy. She couldn’t let him know about the darkness.

  She swallowed a moment, then forced herself to feel the warm breeze on her face. Really feel the boat’s railing under her hands. The motion of the ferry under her feet. Smell the sea, listen to the cries of the birds above their heads. Even without being able to see them she knew how they would whirl about. She had seen gulls before. By focusing on the here and now she could abandon all thoughts of something else. All feelings that had accompanied her earlier in life. It was different now. Teddy had made it different.

  “Are you ready?” His warm skin touched hers as he reached to grab the scarf. “Are you really ready? I bet you’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  He pulled the shawl down.

  The sunshine was blinding, and Damaris narrowed her eyes, pain stabbing into the back of her brain. But at the same time the vision unrolling ahead of her imprinted itself upon her with a dazzling beauty that took her breath away.

  Houses of intense white stone stood flocking together on a sloping hill. Small boats bobbed on the water of what had to be a harbour, with fishermen cleaning nets, old women selling vegetables and flowers, little children running about with a dirty dog in tow. To the right orchards stretched, trees full of green leaves and yellow peeping through.

  “Lemon orchards,” Teddy said by her side. “We have to go and see one. You can wander endlessly through them, the high grass tickling your ankles.”

  She could feel it already, the grass, and the warmth of his hand around hers, and the scent of the citrus on the air. Then stopping and kissing him and drowning in the warmth of his nearness and the certainty that all was well now because he had made it so. They were far, far away.

  “This ferry is the only thing connecting Kalos to the mainland,” Teddy explained. “It only runs twice a day. Otherwise you’d have to find a local with a boat to get you across. It’s perfectly secluded.”

  Damaris’s eyes roamed the orchards stretching all the way to the right-hand tip of the island. There were steep cliffs there and on top of them sat an old building with blue walls, a bright red tiled roof and a sort of small tower. A bell tower, perhaps? It sat there alone and majestic, overlooking the entire island.

  “Look at that.” She pointed at it. The sunshine caught the diamond in her wedding ring and made it sparkle. “Doesn’t that look grand and kind of mysterious?”

  Teddy laughed. “I’m glad you like it. You will soon see more of it.”

  “How come?”

  He shook his head. “That’s a surprise, darling. Later.”

  She smiled, stretching her arm so she could keep admiring her wedding ring. It was unbelievable it actually sat on her finger. It was unbelievable that a handsome man like Teddy Ramsforth had come for her. She had rarely gone anywhere where she had a chance to meet a man. And all because she had found a ticket for a play in her letterbox… A free ticket donated to people chosen at random through a draw. The only bit of luck she had had over the last few years. And it had brought her to Teddy, their love, the amazing wedding, now this trip.

  Thank you, little ticket!

  Thank you, unknown stranger, who drew my name from the hat to give the ticket to.

  The ferry creaked and groaned as it turned to reach the narrow dock.

  Damaris nearly jumped up and down with excitement to get off and see the sights of Kalos. She held on tightly to Teddy’s hand.

  The weathered ferryman put the ramp in place and they walked across it, the wood slightly giving way under their weight. Damaris glanced down at the churning water below and for a moment she felt a pit in her stomach. Then they were on solid land already.

/>   An old woman completely dressed in black came over, holding out a small bouquet of flowers. She said something in a sing-song tone. Teddy reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet with Greek money. He handed her a few coins, waving off her protestations and then handed the bouquet to Damaris with a flourish. She lifted it to her face and smelled. The flowers didn’t have much of a scent but the pink and white was becoming and a perfect fit with her dress. She looked over her shoulder to smile at the old woman, but she had already vanished among the other people milling about.

  Damaris paused to admire the shells being worked into a mosaic by a small boy and his grandfather, the old man sitting on a stool handing the shells to the boy who put them into place. They were making a scene, it seemed, a depiction of two figures, a man and a woman walking a few paces apart. The man looked back at the woman. The small boy was just putting darker shells in place at the woman’s feet. While Damaris looked they seemed to form into grasping black hands. Trying to claw at the woman’s feet. Grab her, drag her away.

  She shivered and then laughed at her own silly notion. Of course that was not what he was depicting. It was hard to tell as the picture wasn’t complete yet.

  Teddy pointed out several large fish lying in a wooden cart. The man behind it yelled something in Greek. The pipe in the corner of his mouth stayed there as if it was glued to his lip, not falling down when he opened his mouth for a new, loud advertisement of his wares.

  “There, an artist.” Damaris pointed her bouquet in the direction of a tall, dark-haired man sitting on a stool at an easel, rapidly moving his brush over the canvas. She pulled Teddy along to have a closer look.

  When she halted beside the man, she held her breath a moment. He had painted the arrival of the ferry on the dock, including the moment where she got the bouquet from the old woman. The drab black garb of the flower saleswoman stood out sharply against Damaris’s pink dress and light blonde hair.

  The man looked at her. He had a handsome, sunburned face with intense blue eyes.

  “Kalos,” Teddy said. And then to Damaris: “That’s Greek for “pretty”.”

  The artist lowered his head a moment. “Efcharisto.”

  That had to be “thank you”, Damaris concluded. She wished for a moment she had had a chance to study the language before they had come here. She felt a little silly at times not knowing even a few words. It seemed to come easily to Teddy, who had picked up whole sentences already. She hoped he didn’t think her very provincial.

  Nonsense. Of course he didn’t think that. He loved her. She stood up straighter, clutching her bouquet.

  Teddy squeezed her hand and pulled her along. “Let’s find someone to take us to the hotel.”

  “Do they have cabs here?” Damaris asked, rushing to keep up with him. Fortunately, her shoes didn’t have towering heels.

  Teddy shook his head. “Something a bit more unconventional. But I know you love that.”

  He pointed at a wagon. The coachman was sitting on the box, his straw hat pulled down over his face. His posture suggested he was dozing. The back of the wagon was full of stacked hay.

  “Do you think it’s soft enough?” Teddy asked, adding in a whisper, “Perhaps it will tickle.” His fingers dug into her side, and she almost flipped double with laughter.

  “Don’t do that,” she gasped. “Everyone is looking at us.”

  “Then they’re looking at two happy people.” Teddy held her gaze. “At least, I’m happy.”

  “Me, too.” She smiled widely. “But our driver has fallen asleep.”

  “Then we’ll just have to wake him.” Teddy walked to the front of the cart and slapped his hand on the box.

  The driver jerked upright. He gave Teddy a sleepy look, then shoved his hat onto the back of his head and gestured with his whip at the back of the wagon.

  “How am I going to climb in there in this tight dress?” Damaris asked, but before she had even finished her sentence, Teddy had swept her off her feet into his arms and lifted her to push her across the wagon’s backboard. She rolled into the soft hay. It did tickle, and she dissolved into laughter. Teddy jumped in and fell beside her, reached for her, pulled her to him. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her neck. Her laughter resounded against the fronts of the white houses as the wagon moved away from the harbour.

  “My bouquet!” Damaris pulled away and retrieved the flowers, which lay undamaged in the hay. “And what about our luggage?”

  “Someone from the hotel staff will fetch it for us.”

  Of course. Having grown up on an estate, Teddy was used to people fetching and carrying for him. She had to remember that.

  To smooth over the awkward moment, she smiled down at the flowers, then looked about her. “This is marvellous. Just look at those houses.”

  “The narrow windows and low doors are to keep the heat out,” Teddy explained. “The walls are thick as well.”

  “Have you ever been inside one of them?” Damaris asked.

  “No, but the building style is familiar. They also do this in other countries.” Teddy leaned back in the hay, surveying her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Just thinking what a lucky man I am.” He grabbed her hand and caressed its back. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Rissa.”

  Damaris wanted to say she felt the same way, but her throat was tight and she feared she couldn’t say it without crying. So she just smiled at him.

  Children ran along with the wagon for a bit, waving the sticks they held. Two women carrying baskets with wet clothes stopped to let the wagon pass, pushing their backs against the stone wall of the nearest house. Their chattering was just like a bird song, rising and falling in pitch.

  “Greek must be the most beautiful language in the world,” Damaris enthused to Teddy.

  He didn’t seem to be listening as his eyes were on a car that sped away from the village. In a flash Damaris thought she saw it had an English licence plate. Odd. She hadn’t expected a car here, let alone a foreign one.

  “Must be English,” she said to Teddy.

  “What?” he blinked at her.

  “That car.”

  “What car?”

  “Oh, I thought you were watching it. A dark green Ford with an English plate.”

  “This isn’t Athens, darling. There are no Fords here.”

  Damaris stared in the direction in which she had seen the car vanish. How odd.

  * * *

  Robin Hawtree stared into the mirror, turning her head left and right to decide which earrings looked better. She had put the one with the emerald in her left ear and the diamond stud in her right ear to judge the effect of each. But all she could do was stare at her eyes, or rather the bags underneath them. Not even make-up could make them disappear.

  Outside she heard her husband’s car zoom into the courtyard. Her heartbeat sped up even more. Quickly she removed the diamond stud from her right ear and put in the emerald’s counterpart. There. She’d at least not walk about with two different earrings, giving away her distraction as she had been dressing for dinner.

  For this all-important dinner.

  Behind her back the door opened, and Gideon came in. He pulled the beret she had leant him off his head and tossed it onto the bed. “They’ve arrived.”

  Robin turned to him slowly. “And?”

  “What and?” Gideon paced the room, his hands on his back as if he was pondering a difficult problem.

  “Is anything wrong?” Robin eyed him. “Were they fighting? Are they no longer in love?”

  “Oh, they were the epitome of love. He bought her a silly bouquet from an old biddy who haunts the harbour, peddling her wares, and she laughed at everything he said. He even lifted her into a cart full of hay and they lay in it kissing and cuddling while it took them up to the hotel.”

  “So everything is fine.” Robin put her hands on her hips. “Why did you have to make me feel like…?”

  She watched him pace. T
hat nervous prowl got on her nerves. “You’re not backing out, are you?”

  Gideon sighed.

  She knew that sigh so well. It preceded each and every excuse he ever made to her. An excuse for his low income, an excuse for the promotion at work that he didn’t get. An excuse for the lipstick stain on his collar. An excuse for… being the man he was?

  Robin narrowed her eyes. “You’re not backing out of this one, Gideon. It’s just too important.”

  “We could get in trouble because of it.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Well, if she ever finds out, of course.”

  Robin walked over to him and blocked his path. “And how would she find out?” She held his gaze, jutting her chin up in a silent challenge. “I know but I won’t tell her. You know but you won’t tell her, either. Or will you?”

  Gideon looked away. “It’s just a bad plan. So much can go wrong.”

  “Nonsense, it’s foolproof. Now…” Robin took hold of his tie. “Will you tell her?”

  Gideon stared into her eyes. He seemed dazzled, confused. “I…”

  Robin ran her hand over his chest. “It would be dumb to tell her. She might make trouble for us anyway. And we won’t have gained anything by it.”

  She leaned closer to him. “This is the life, darling. A nice house, a car for you. Sunshine and dinners at fancy hotels, boat trips and leisurely beach walks. Champagne.”

  She let the words hang a bit. “This is what we were meant for. Not what we have back home. You know that just as well as I do. And it’s all so simple. It’s not dishonest or anything.”

  Gideon seemed to want to protest, but she shut his mouth with a long kiss. She felt his resistance melt away under her hands.

  “Just leave it all to me.” She smiled up at him. “Women are so much better at it than men will ever be.”

  Chapter Two

  “So this is actually our hotel?” Damaris looked up at the blue walls and red roof of the building she had been admiring from the ferry. “I thought it had to be someone’s villa.”

  “It used to be private property. But it was sold off years ago and turned into a hotel. We’re having the bridal suite. Let’s check in.”