Rachel Lindsay - The Taming of Laura

by Rachel Lindsay

  "No, no! I'll never love anyone except Philip!"

  "You mean you're in love with someone else?"

  "Yes. Why do you think I'm crying? If I were not in love with Philip I wouldn't care if I had to marry Stephanos. What difference would it make to me? Oh Laura, can't you understand?"

  "Of course I understand." Lama leaned forward. "Why won't your cousin allow you to marry Philip instead? Is he a poor Greek instead of a rich one?"

  "He isn't a Greek at all," Melissa said despondently. "That's the trouble."

  "I see. And if he were Greek, would you be allowed to marry him then?"

  "I don't know. Philip's a doctor. He's only just qualified and he wouldn't be able to keep me in this sort of style."

  "It would need a millionaire to do that," Laura commented dryly, glancing round the palatial bedroom. "But perhaps you wouldn't be happy living any other way. You're used to this, Melissa. Maybe Nikolaos is right."

  "He's not, he's not! All this means nothing to me. I would work with my two hands if only I could marry Philip. I would rather share one room with him than live in a palace."

  Theatrical though the words were, there was a deep intensity in them that moved Laura into indiscretion.

  "If you feel like that, why don't you run off and marry him?"

  The girl shook her head. "I owe a duty to my cousin. Since Papa died Nikolaos has looked after Andreas and my mother and me. For the past twelve years he has given us everything. I cannot go against him now. I owe him too much."

  "Gratitude doesn't necessarily mean obedience."

  "You do not understand, Laura. I was brought up to consider it wrong to go against my father's wishes, and Nikolaos stands in the position of a father to me."

  "I've never heard anything so ridiculous!" Laura began and stopped when she heard a step behind her. Swinging round she saw Nikolaos Dimar standing by the door, one hand in the pocket of his jacket, the other holding a cigar. From his position he might have just arrived or else been there a long time and she wondered how much of the conversation he had heard. But he gave no sign, and smiling briefly in her direction, walked over to the bed.

  "I was looking for you, Melissa. The guests are waiting for you to cut your cake and Stephanos wants to give you the engagement ring."

  "Very well." Melissa stood up, smoothed the skirts of her dress and walked from the room.

  Troubled, Laura followed them, wishing she had not been swayed into saying what she had.

  For the rest of the evening she was intensely conscious of Nikolaos. Several times, glancing in his direction, she found his dark eyes fixed on her with an enigmatic expression, but each time their gaze met, he turned his head and she became more and more convinced that he had overheard the conversation she had had with his young cousin. Yet when she went to say goodbye to him there was nothing in his manner to bear out her theory and he was as charming to her as he was to Melissa and Mrs. Dimar.

  "I'll be flying to Athens some time next week," he said. "If I go on Bantock Airlines we may meet."

  "I'll watch out for you," she murmured and was conscious of Andreas' gratification as he stood beside her.

  "You made a great hit with Nikolaos," he whispered as they went down in the lift. "In a few days' time I'll talk to him about us."

  Melissa half turned her head and looked at Laura. "I would like to see you again," she said simply. "When are you free?"

  "I go on duty again tomorrow," Laura said regretfully. "But I'll be back in three days' time."

  "You must promise to telephone my sister," Andreas interrupted. "I'm sure she wants your opinion of Stephanos. Women in love always like to talk over their affairs with other women."

  Laura met Melissa's eyes but the girl gave no indication that her brother's words had hit home. The lift reached the ground floor and they walked across the vestibule. A chauffeur stood beside the silver grey limousine and Mrs. Dimar climbed in first and patted the seat beside her for Laura, who took it, leaving Melissa and Andreas to take the two bucket seats.

  Swiftly they drove through the deserted streets and within a few moments stopped outside their own flat.

  "You and Melissa go up," Andreas said to his mother, "I will drive Laura home myself."

  "It is better to keep on the chauffeur," Mrs. Dimar replied. "He does not like anyone else to drive the car."

  "Mama, really!"

  Mrs. Dimar lapsed into Greek and Andreas listened, his lower lip petulant.

  "Very well," he said sulkily. "I'll keep him on. But I'll sit in the back and hold Laura's hand instead!"

  "Miss Prentiss might not like that." Mrs. Dimar smiled directly at Laura. "Goodnight, my dear. Perhaps I will have the pleasure of meeting you again before I leave the country."

  "Of course you will," Andreas intervened. "You're not going to New York till September and you'll see a great deal of Laura before then."

  His mother looked at him, her dark eyes flashing. "But Miss Prentiss is busy, is she not? It might not be convenient for her to fit in her time with you."

  "She'll jolly well have to make it convenient!"

  Mrs. Dimar sighed. "Young men are so foolish and impatient, Miss Prentiss, and I sometimes think my son is more foolish and impatient than most."

  Laura said nothing. There was no doubt that Mrs. Dimar knew her son's weaknesses and deplored them: and falling in love with an air hostess would undoubtedly be considered the biggest weakness of all.

  Alone together in the back of the car, with the chauffeur's broad shoulders looming disapprovingly over the glass partition, Andreas took Laura in his arms. "I've wanted to do this all the evening," he said. "You look so beautiful, my darling."

  They kissed deeply, passionately, and Laura knew an overwhelming sense of maternal tenderness that she had never experienced before. Mrs. Dimar was right: Andreas was young, so very young.

  "Oh darling," she whispered. "I do love you."

  "I should hope so!" He kissed the tip of her nose. "What a lovely Grecian nose you have—just right for a Greek wife."

  "But I'm not Greek."

  "You will be when you marry me."

  "No I won't. I'll never give up my nationality. I'm English and—"

  "All right." He gave in at once. "I won't argue with you. If you want to remain English you can."

  Warmed by his acquiescence, she rubbed her cheek against his. "Oh darling, you're so easy-going and gentle."

  "Is that a failing?" he quipped.

  "A delightful failing."

  He pulled her closer. "I won't be able to see you for a week, Laura. Nikolaos told me tonight that I must go to Paris."

  "Isn't that rather sudden?"

  "Not really. In this business you must expect to rush off at a moment's notice. But it'll only be for a week, darling, and you're out of the country for the first few days anyway."

  The car slowed to a stop outside the gaunt Victorian house where Laura lived and the chauffeur climbed out and opened the door. Andreas followed her on to the pavement and walked up the steps.

  "I daren't come in," he said. "Mama will be waiting up for me."

  Chilled by this, Laura put the key in the lock. "Don't let me keep you." She stepped into the vestibule and was pulled back by a pair of strong hands.

  "Laura, don't be angry. You know I want to come with you but—"

  Her anger melted at the look on his face and she relaxed against him. "I understand, darling. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight, my sweet one. I'll telephone you from Paris."

  When Laura let herself into the flat she was surprised to find the light still burning in Celia's bedroom and she tapped on the door and went in. Celia was in bed reading, her face shining with cold cream, her hair wound under a turban.

  "Well, well!" Laura looked at her. "What's all this glamour in aid of?"

  "Nothing."

  "Are you kidding? You're off duty tomorrow so you must be seeing someone special. Who is it?"

  Celia hesitated. "Tim O'Br
ien."

  Laura stared in amazement. "I didn't even know you knew him."

  "I didn't until a couple of days ago." Celia plucked at the sheet. "He found out I shared a flat with you and wanted me to put in a good word for him. He came over to me when I was in the canteen."

  "Don't tell me you're the stewardess who upset the coffee over him?" Laura grinned. "One of the girls was telling me about it."

  Celia nodded. "You know how clumsy I get when I'm nervous."

  "You needn't be nervous of Tim O'Brien. He's a harmless young man."

  "He's crazy about you," Celia said.

  "Is that why he asked you out?"

  "He's only asked me out so that he can talk about you!"

  Laura shook her head. "Don't you believe it. No man asks a girl out simply to talk about another girl. Why, you're much more his type than I am."

  "I'm sure I'm not. He's so good-looking, and clever. He'll be promoted to captain in another few months."

  "Maybe you can wangle yourself on to his flight."

  "Not a hope," Celia sighed. "But don't let's talk about me. How did the party go and what was the great white chief like?"

  "Very nice, very polite and very autocratic."

  Celia made a face. "What does he think of your engagement to his cousin? Every time I open the newspapers I expect to see your picture staring at me. Gosh, won't the other girls be jealous when they find out you're going to marry a Greek millionaire."

  "Andreas isn't a millionaire," Laura said sharply. "He works for his cousin and I'd say Mr. Dimar holds the purse strings very tightly."

  "Even so, he must be loaded. When is he going to give you an engagement ring?"

  "I don't know. I haven't asked him."

  "What a strange girl you are!" Celia's voice was partly exasperated, partly admiring. "Anyone else in your position would be boasting to everybody at the airport, yet you're keeping the whole thing as quiet as if you're ashamed of it. You've made a terrific catch, Laura. Don't you realise it?"

  "Considering you're a friend of mine, that's not a very complimentary remark. Don't you think Andreas is doing well for himself too?" Laura stood up straight and saluted. "Each girl who wears the Bantock uniform is a model of British womanhood at its best!"

  Celia giggled and looked contrite. "What a beast I am. You're quite right. You might be doing well for yourself but Andreas is doing even better. A beautiful girl who can cook, who can take care of thirty-eight passengers at a time and is guaranteed not to lose her head in an emergency, is a catch beyond compare!"

  "I don't know about the last part," Laura said soberly. "I've never had to face an emergency and I'm scared in case I crack up."

  "Don't be absurd! Why should you crack up?"

  "I don't know. One never knows until it actually happens and then it might be too late. How would you feel if you learned you had to make a crash landing?"

  The two girls stared at one another soberly and Celia shook her head. "What a conversation for two o'clock in the morning! We should be talking about romances and marriages, not crashes."

  Lying in bed later, Laura remembered the words and shivered. Were they in any way prophetic? Would her hopes of marrying Andreas crash when faced with opposition from his family? If Nikolaos Dimar was insisting that Melissa marry a man of his own choosing, how would he favour Andreas marrying a girl who, apart from being a foreigner, also had to work for a living? Yet Andreas was a man and surely not so much under his cousin's sway. Into her mind flashed a picture of the two Dimars: Nikolaos with his brooding, determined countenance, Andreas with his disarming good looks, flashing eyes and weak chin.

  She drifted into uneasy sleep but not to dream of the man she loved. Instead it was Nikolaos who held her hands passionately tight, Nikolaos who put on the gold band that encircled the third finger of her left hand.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LAURA overslept the following morning and dashed into the store barely half an hour before her aircraft was due to take off. "I'd like my passenger amenities please," she said to the girl in charge. "And do hurry — I'm terribly late." She leaned on the counter. "I'd better have some toys as well. I've an unaccompanied child travelling."

  With infuriating slowness the girl sorted out the daily papers and some games and books, while Laura waited impatiently, mentally checking over all that was still to be done: Customs, collect her overnight case, see the Flight Officer.

  "That's the lot," the girl said at last and Laura hurriedly stowed the amenities into the large canvas bag ready for the loader to carry to the plane. Then, running out of the store room, she wrenched open the door leading into the Flight Office.

  "You're late," said Mr. Simpson.

  "I know. I'm terribly sorry."

  "Well, here's the Flight List. You already know about the unaccompanied child but you've also got—" he glanced at the typed sheets in his hand — "you've also got a snake."

  "A's-snake! What do I have to do with it?"

  "Nothing. It's already been fed and it'll be put down in the passenger hold. I'm just telling you so that you'll remember not to open the canvas basket."

  "Don't worry," Laura shuddered, "I won't! I've a phobia about snakes."

  "Well, this one isn't dangerous as long as it's not hungry, and you'll be arriving in Athens long before it wakes up."

  "What about the little girl?"

  "Her name's Ann Winston and she's going to spend the summer with her mother in Athens. The parents are divorced. The child has never flown before and might be nervous. Now you'd better get yourself cleared through Customs."

  Laura picked up her bag and followed the green light down twisting corridors to the Customs Hall. Crews were usually passed through without delay, but this time she had to kick her heels for fifteen minutes while the one official on duty dealt with a stewardess whose passport had expired. 'If it goes on like this,' Laura thought apprehensively, looking at the 24-hour clock on the wall above her head, 'the pilot will have to delay take-off.'

  After what seemed a lifetime the Customs Officer came over to her and slid her case along the counter. She was passed through at once and with barely five minutes to spare raced across the tarmac and up the steps to the plane. Luckily the Chief Steward was Rickford, whom she knew well, but even he looked unusually annoyed.

  "The first aid box wasn't here," he said, "and I had to go back for it myself. Really Miss Prentiss, you should be more careful."

  "I'm sorry." Laura had no time to say more for at that moment their passengers began to stream out.

  "I'll see them aboard," Rickford said, "and you'd better go over to Reception and fetch the child."

  It was a task Laura did not enjoy for the little girl clung to her father's hand and sobbed. Gently Laura tried to remonstrate with her but it was hopeless and she finally had to carry her, screaming, all the way to the aircraft. There was no time to try and pacify her until after take-off for Laura had to see that the passengers were comfortably settled, their coats stowed away, their safety belts fastened and bags and hats placed in the racks above them. But as soon as they were airborne she walked down the aisle to where the child was huddled in a corner seat.

  "I've got someone else who's lonely and miserable," Laura said and put an arm round the heaving shoulders.

  The little girl took no notice and Laura tried again. "If you don't stop crying you're going to make Flossie very upset."

  The child looked up. "I don't know Flossie."

  "I know you don't, but Flossie would like to know you." From behind her back Laura produced a doll.

  The little girl clutched it. "I don't like the name Flossie."

  "Well, what would you like to call her?"

  "Angela. That's my mummy's name."

  Laura hid a smile. "It's a very pretty name. But I'll only leave Angela with you if you promise to look after her. Put her on your lap and tell her a story. And as soon as I've served lunch I'll come back and tell you a story."

  For the rest of
the trip Ann played happily with the doll. She ate her lunch and then, clutching Laura's hand, fell asleep. Laura looked at the sleeping child and feeling the sticky fingers warm on hers, knew the satisfaction of a job well done. She looked round her. The passengers, replete, dozed or read magazines. The plane droned steadily on, the uneven contours of land fifteen thousand feet below them, the blue cloudless sky above. When she married Andreas she would have to give up her job, and she would miss it. It would be strange never to fly again as a stewardess, strange to be a passenger herself, perhaps waited on by one of the girls who had trained in her own class.

  Laura made two flights to Athens before she saw Andreas again. Returning home late on Friday she found a note saying he would be calling for her at eight o'clock, and she had only just finished dressing when the door bell rang. Breathlessly she hurried to open it and saw Andreas grinning in front of her, a cellophane box under his arm.

  "Hello, stranger," he said. "I've brought you some daisies to wear!"

  Laura looked at the two green, speckled orchids. "They're beautiful," she gasped. "I've never had orchids before."

  "Then from now on you'll have them all the time." He looked at the black silk dress she was wearing. "It fits you so well it's a pity to cover up any part of it. But then, it's a greater pity to cover up any part of you."

  "She turned away embarrassed, and heard him chuckle. "Hey there! A whole week without a glimpse of your face and now all I can see is your back."

  "I'm sorry," she said and turned to find herself in his arms.

  It was not until they were half way through dinner that she broached the subject of his family and asked what his cousin had said about her.

  "We didn't have much opportunity to talk," Andreas said. "As you know I flew in from Paris today and Nikolaos was leaving for New York tonight. I only saw him for a moment."

  "But he must have said something about me."

  Andreas sipped his wine. "He said you were one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met, that he had never seen such glorious hair and that you were as charming as you were intelligent. There now, does that satisfy you?"