Rachel Lindsay - The Taming of Laura

by Rachel Lindsay

  "No," she said flatly. "The compliments are delightful but they don't mean he considers me a suitable wife for you."

  "Why should you be unsuitable?"

  "If he won't let Melissa marry a foreigner, why should he let you?"

  Andreas stared. "So she told you about that?"

  "Yes. And I think it's disgraceful the way your cousin is trying to spoil her life."

  "Nikolaos doesn't want to spoil her life," Andreas said gently. "He wants to save it. She is still a child and Stephanos is much more likely to make her happy than an Englishman whom she hardly knows."

  With an effort Laura controlled her temper. "We're getting away from the argument. The point is, that if your cousin feels like this about Melissa's marriage, he's going to feel the same about ours."

  "Not at all. My sister is an inexperienced girl with no knowledge of the world. It's only right that her emotions should be guarded. But for me it's different."

  "In what way? You may be ten years older than Melissa but you're still much younger than Nikolaos — both in years and experience. I'm positive he'll tell you that you're only infatuated with me and need as much protection as your sister."

  "You're quite wrong!" he said angrily. "I've already told him that I don't intend to listen to him and if—"

  "Then he does know about us! Darling, tell me the truth. I've got to know what he said."

  Andreas' dark face grew darker with anger. "You won't like it, Laura. He wants me to marry someone else."

  Laura stared at him. "Who?"

  "Eugenie Bario. She's — I've known her all my life and at one time the family expected us to get engaged. But it was so long ago. I—I haven't seen her for years and I never thought Nikolaos…" He frowned. "Her father owns the Bario Steel Company. It's the second largest in the world next to ours."

  "I see. So she would be the obvious choice from your cousin's point of view."

  "Laura, don't!" He seized her hands. "No matter what Nikolaos says, I'll never marry anyone but you. You've got to believe me."

  "I wish I could," she said soberly. "But as long as you go on working for him I'll always be afraid he'll make you change your mind. Can't you leave him and find another job?"

  He looked at her in amazement. "You don't know what you're saying. The Dimar Line is the family business. I could never consider leaving it."

  "Would you rather be forced to leave me?"

  "How can you ask that? Darling, be patient. When Nikolaos knows you better and realises what a wonderful person you are, I'm certain he'll give his consent." He pushed back his chair. "Come on, let's dance. We've been discussing the family long enough. I don't intend to let them spoil the rest of our evening."

  Laura followed him on to the dance floor, but although they did not mention Nikolaos again, her happiness was blurred, for there was no longer any doubt in her mind that she would have to fight for her marriage to Andreas. 'But as long as we love one another,' she thought, 'we can face the world together.' She snuggled close into his arms and his hold tightened.

  "Don't be unhappy, my sweet," he murmured. "Family or no family, you're the only woman in the world for me."

  During the next week, Laura saw Andreas every moment he was free. Together they explored London, wandering hand in hand in the Park and eating strange meals in all kinds of little restaurants tucked away in side streets.

  "These few days have been absolutely wonderful," she sighed as he drove her home late on Sunday evening. "For the first time I'm not looking forward to reporting for duty."

  "When are you free again?"

  "In four day's time."

  He sighed. "I wish I could drive you to the airport in the morning, but I'm catching the eight o'clock train to Newcastle."

  "Never mind, you can meet me on Thursday when I get back."

  "I know I can." He frowned. "But I hate having to count the hours till I see you again. I want you so much, Laura. I won't be happy till you're truly my own."

  "Neither will I," she whispered. "Believe me, darling, neither will I."

  With a heavy heart she watched him go, and only when the tail light of his car had disappeared from sight did she mount the steps to her flat. As soon as she entered the hall she saw the pale green Bantock envelope on the floor. It was addressed to her and she picked it up and opened it, wondering if it had lain there all day. As she read the contents a thrill of pleasure ran through her. She had been posted to temporary duty on the South America route and would be flying on the Silver Star, the newest Bantock aircraft. Hard on the first thrill came the realisation that she would be away from London much longer than the usual Athens trip. She would have to let Andreas know. She glanced at her watch. It was too late to telephone him now and he was leaving too early in the morning for her to speak to him then.

  Hastily she scrawled him a note, saying she would be away from England for two weeks and would cable him the moment she knew the exact date of her return. Instinctively she knew he would be annoyed at her absence, and could not help hoping that it would make him realise that if he wanted to be with her all the time, the decision lay with him. If only he would make a stand against his family! Sighing, she slipped the letter into an envelope and placed it on the table ready to post. By the time Andreas received it, she would be thousands of miles away.

  It was a beautiful, clear morning when Laura boarded the Silver Star. It was a far larger aircraft than any she had been used to but she would be sharing her duties with another stewardess and steward. As she waited for the signal to take off, her throat went dry. The high-pitched whine of the engines was different from the noise she had become accustomed to and involuntarily she clenched her hands.

  "This your first time on a Silver Star?" the Chief Steward asked.

  She nodded.

  "Once you've travelled on one of these you'll think any other aircraft old-fashioned. We fly at an altitude of over thirty thousand feet—no weather conditions to worry us and the whole flight as smooth as a billiard table."

  Laura had been watching him as he spoke and when she looked out of the window again she was surprised to see the ground thousands of feet below them. The warning notices above the cockpit went off and she unfastened her safety belt and walked down the aisle, stopping by each seat to ask the passengers if they required anything.

  The plane turned gently, the whine of the engines increasing as they soared to their maximum altitude. London was already a hundred miles away and their next stop would be at Lisbon, from whence they would make their way to the Azores, a group of small islands in the Atlantic. Arriving there late the same evening, they would stop only long enough to refuel before setting off for the longest stage of the journey: across the Atlantic to Bermuda, Nassau and the Caribbean. Here Laura would change places with the slip crew, but the plane and passengers would continue to South America with a fresh crew who had already had two days' rest in Nassau.

  It was the longest flight Laura had ever made and she was glad when her fellow stewardess suggested they should each take an off duty spell and try to get some rest. But first they had to settle the passengers to sleep or at least persuade them to turn off their lights so as not to disturb the others. It needed gentle urging to settle everyone down and there were many extra rugs, pillows and glasses of hot milk to be fetched. There were also six sleeping berths to be made up, but the steward did this and when Laura had done all she could she relaxed at the back of the saloon in one of the green cushioned seats reserved for the crew. She had been up since seven o'clock that morning and on duty —apart from a short afternoon rest—for twelve hours. The steward was already preparing breakfast and the other stewardess had taken some coffee and sandwiches up to the cockpit. Laura closed her eyes, and was drifting off to sleep when the buzzer sounded. With a start she sat up. It was a woman whom she had already typed as highly nervous, and she hurried down the aisle.

  "Stewardess!" The woman's voice was shaking with fear. "One of the engines is on fire!"

/>   Startled, Laura looked out of the window and saw red and yellow flames streaming from the exhaust of the starboard engine. "That's nothing to worry about," she said soothingly. "The engines do that all the time but you only notice it at night."

  "You're lying!" The shaking voice rose and afraid she would waken the people around her, Laura leaned over her.

  "Believe me, I'm telling you the truth."

  "You're not!" The passenger tried to stand up and Laura was wondering how she should cope if the woman became difficult when she heard the Chief Steward's calm voice behind her.

  "What's the matter, Miss Prentiss?"

  Thankfully Laura turned and explained what had happened. He motioned her to move away and she did so, waiting anxiously for him to return to the galley, which he did a few moments later.

  "I've had my eye on that woman all day," he explained. "I've managed to reassure her for the time being, but I'm going to give her some hot milk and a sedative. That should keep her quiet."

  Laura sighed. "For a moment I thought she was going to dash into the cockpit and buttonhole the Captain."

  "I've known them to do that before now. If you come up against a situation like that again, Miss Prentiss, call one of the stewards. You'll find a man can deal with a woman better than another woman can."

  "And can a woman deal better with a man?" Laura asked with a smile.

  "All the time!"

  Involuntarily she thought of Nikolaos. No one could ever make him do what he did not want. She sighed and sitting down in her seat again, closed her eyes for a well-earned rest.

  When Laura returned to London Airport after her first South American trip she had crossed the Atlantic twice, landed at ten different airfields, slipped crews at Nassau, Buenos Aires and again at Nassau on the way back, and had had two full days off at each slip. With ten thousand miles behind her she felt a sense of achievement and the exhilaration of a job well done. But for the first time she was eager to escape from the inevitable sound of droning engines and the sight of uniforms and longingly thought of her flat and the quiet bedroom where she could relax.

  Clutching her travelling bag in her hand she left the airport. She half expected Andreas to meet her for she had cabled him her time of arrival, but although she looked round, she could not see him, and disappointedly she hitched her case from one hand to the other and boarded the bus.

  As soon as she entered the flat she had a presentiment someone was there. "Celia?" she called, but no one answered and she went into the living room, stopping short on the threshold. The room was filled with flowers and sitting in the armchair was Andreas. He held out his arms and with a cry of delight she ran over to him.

  "I hope you don't mind my waiting for you here," he said against her hps. "Celia let me in and has diplomatically disappeared."

  "I think it was a wonderful idea," she breathed and pulled his head down until their mouths met. For a long moment they remained close together and it was only when she pulled away and looked at him properly that she saw how strained and pale he was.

  "Darling, what's wrong? Are you ill?"

  "No, no, I'm fine. And you look wonderful. I needn't ask if you enjoyed the trip."

  "Oh I did! For the first time I really feel as if I've seen something of the world. Nassau's a wonderful place, darling. I'd love to go there for our honeymoon." She laughed. "You see I'm no longer embarrassed at saying things like that to you!" Her voice trailed away as she saw the expression in his eyes and the fears that had lain dormant within her, rose to the surface. "What's the matter? You look as if the end of the world has come."

  "It has for me," he replied slowly. "I don't know how to tell you, Laura, but—"

  All the colour left her face and she drew a deep breath. "You don't want to marry me any more!"

  "Of course I want to marry you! I'll always want to marry you but—but—oh Laura, I can't! It's not possible."

  "I suppose you mean Nikolaos won't let you," she said scornfully.

  "Laura, please! Don't be like this."

  "How else do you expect me to be? Do you think I'm happy that the man I love hasn't enough guts to stand up to his cousin? That he's too much of a coward to prevent a bully from smashing his happiness?"

  "You don't know what you're saying." Andreas' hands, long and thin, clenched and unclenched. "I love you with all my heart but I've got a duty to my family . .

  "Family!" she burst out. "Don't be such a hypocrite! If you really loved me, you wouldn't let anything come between us. Thank heavens I've found out what you are." She turned her back on him. "You'd better go now. There's nothing more to be said."

  "Laura darling—"

  "Please go!" she repeated sharply and remained with her back to him until she heard the door close.

  Not until she heard the sound of his car did she walk blindly into her bedroom and fling herself on the bed. But the tears would not come: only an aching emptiness which gave way to bleak and bitter disillusionment. How weak Andreas had been to allow a man of stronger will to dominate him. Hatred of Nikolaos grew strong within her and she hoped that one day he too would fall in love with a woman who would scorn him the way he had made Andreas scorn her.

  She sat up and pushed the hair away from her damp forehead. Never would she let her emotions be stirred up by any man again. From now on she would live her life alone.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LAURA did not find it easy to forget Andreas, and in Athens particularly, where every restaurant, every street and every building held memories of him, she found it impossible to banish him from her thoughts. But she realised that time and work were the only palliatives, and with renewed effort, concentrated on her job.

  Slowly spring gave way to summer and she gradually began to pick up the threads of her old life. There was, however, one marked difference; before she had known Andreas she had refused all the invitations that came her way; now she accepted them, hiding her true feelings beneath a veneer of gaiety and never allowing herself to respond to any of the emotions she aroused in her escorts.

  It was towards the end of August that, returning from Greece, she passed through Passenger Reception and on an armchair saw a newspaper with a picture of Andreas and Eugenie embarking for their honeymoon on a Dimar Line ship. She picked up the paper and jogging home on the bus, read all the details of the lavish reception, the famous guests, the diamond necklace the groom had given to the bride and the sailing yacht the bride had given to him.

  'I couldn't have given him a yacht,' Laura thought bleakly, 'only my heart—and that wasn't enough.'

  When she reached the flat Celia was already there, and Laura dropped the newspaper on to her lap. "So endeth the last chapter," she said tersely. "I wonder if I should write and congratulate him?"

  "You'd be crazy to get in touch with Andreas again."

  "I wasn't thinking of Andreas," Laura said harshly. "I meant his cousin. Once again Nikolaos Dimar has got what he wanted."

  "He's going to get something else he's wanted too," Celia said cryptically.

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "You haven't heard then?"

  "Heard what? I've been out of the country for a week, old girl."

  "Well, sit down and light a cigarette," Celia said, "because you're in for a shock."

  Briefly Celia told her that Bantock Airlines, due to increasing overheads, were unable to continue without added capital, and rather than merge with another aircraft company, had sold out to the Dimar Shipping Line.

  "Apparently old Nick believes that within the next few years ships will be transport of the past and the bulk of the world's cargo will be transported in giant air liners. At least, that's what he said in a newspaper speech. Personally, I think he just wanted to buy an aircraft company to please his vanity. I believe Eugenie Bario's father bought one last year!"

  Laura flicked the ash off her cigarette. "You know what this means, don't you? I'll have to resign. I can't work for the Dimars."

  "Don'
t be an ass. Just because they own us it doesn't mean you'll be coming in contact with any of them."

  "That's not the point. I don't want to accept anything from the family at all."

  "You're not accepting anything from them. They're accepting things from you. You're a good stewardess, Laura, you'd be crazy to resign."

  "I can go to another company."

  Celia half opened her mouth to argue, but recognising the obstinate look on Laura's face, decided to say nothing.

  Both girls were busy cleaning the flat next morning when the telephone rang and Celia, answering it, came into the kitchen to tell Laura that Nikolaos Dimar's secretary had called.

  The sweeping brush clattered from Laura's hand. "Whatever for?"

  "He wants to see you in his office at three o'clock this afternoon, and I accepted."

  "You had no right to do that!" Laura's eyes sparkled angrily. "I won't go and see him."

  "Of course you will, if only to satisfy my curiosity! For heaven's sake, Laura, don't be mad! Maybe he wants to make you chief stewardess of Bantock Airlines as compensation for not marrying his darling cousin."

  Laura threw the duster in her hand and Celia ducked. "Temper, temper!" she said and ran from the room.

  Promptly at three o'clock that afternoon Laura entered the imposing building in Leadenhall Street which housed the offices of the Dimar Shipping Line. Five minutes later she was ushered into a large oak- panelled room containing a massive mahogany desk and several leather armchairs. On the mantelshelf stood a model of one of the largest Dimar luxury liners while round the room were pictures of other ships, ranging from the first of the line—a magnificent frigate with billowing sails—to the latest and most modern oil tanker. She sat down and had only just taken off her gloves when the door opened and Nikolaos Dimar came into the room. He wore a dark suit and tie and a white shirt which heightened the tan of his face. He was unsmiling but he came towards her politely and held out his hand, a large hand with blunt fingers that seemed to have the strength of an ox as they gripped her own.