Rachel Lindsay - The Taming of Laura

by Rachel Lindsay

  "Don't worry, Laura," he said. "Everything will be all right."

  Hearing him say her name for the first time, giving it the Greek inflection, she was reminded of Andreas. How far away he seemed. It was difficult to believe she had loved him. She closed her eyes. Had loved… What had made her use the past tense? Was it true that the truth always lay in one's subconscious, only coming to the fore when the conscious mind was ready to accept it? She was too tired to find the answer and she looked into Nikolaos' face.

  "Supposing we don't get picked up?"

  "But we will. I feel it in my bones and my bones are always right!" He moved closer and pulled her against him.

  How strange it was, Laura thought, that this man whom she hated above all others should be sitting next to her, suffusing her body with the warmth of his own. She knew that once they were safe—she would not allow herself to think in any other terms—he would become the hard, domineering man she had always known. But at the moment he was not the head of the Dimar Shipping Line. He was simply a man who had shown not only coolness of head but also gentleness and tenderness of a kind she would never have associated with him.

  For the rest of that night they sat together and as dawn broke they stirred, stretching limbs that had grown stiff with cold. Laura wished she could lie passive until the rescue boats came. But already the baby had started to cry and the young mother was sobbing quietly to herself. The co-pilot had regained consciousness and was calling for water and Nikolaos crawled over to make him comfortable.

  The sea was still only a gentle swell rocking the boat, the sky was interspersed with clouds, but through them could be seen blue patches. It was surprisingly hot and Laura unbuttoned her jacket. Suddenly a wild cry made her jump to her feet and for a moment she thought Nikolaos had gone mad, for he was waving so vigorously that he was rocking the dinghy from side to side.

  "A boat!" he shouted. "A boat!"

  Everybody looked in the direction he was pointing. On the horizon a dark shape loomed and they watched it in silence. Was it coming towards them or was it steaming away? It was impossible to tell from this distance and they were too far off to attract its attention.

  "Rockets!" Nikolaos shouted, and hurried over to where they were stowed.

  Mrs. Gilderheimer began to scream. "Hurry! Hurry! We've got to be saved. My baby can't die!"

  Quickly Laura took the child from her and holding it against her shoulder, sent up a prayer for their rescue. The first rocket roared into the sky and then another. Eyes, strained and red rimmed, watched the boat in the distance. Beside her Nikolaos was breathing heavily, his fingers drumming faster and faster on the seat. Suddenly they stopped.

  "It's all right," he said, emotion thickening his accent. "We've been sighted. The boat's coming towards us."

  It was many hours later when Laura opened her eyes and wondered where she was. Memory returned and she sat up and looked round the small cabin. Through the porthole moonlight shimmered across the sea and she fumbled for the electric fight switch. As if she had given a signal there was a knock at the door and a Lancashire voice said: "Are you respectable, lass?"

  She laughed shakily. "Yes. Come in."

  A young man entered bearing a tray with a steaming mug of cocoa and some cold meat. "You slept like a log right through the day. But then so did everybody else."

  "What time is it?"

  "Nine o'clock. You've been on board eight hours. Lucky you sent up that rocket when you did, otherwise we'd have missed you."

  "Thank heavens you didn't! Are the others all right?"

  "Yes. The baby was screaming its head off but it's fine now."

  Laura pushed away the empty tray. "That was wonderful. I think I'll get up. I can't sleep any more."

  "Rightyo. There's a bathroom next door. You're in the Captain's quarters, Miss, so you've done all right for yourself. He's moved in to share a cabin with the doctor. I've got some dry clothes for you too—not Hartnell stuff, mind you, but it's the best we can rig up." He dumped some things on a chair and with a cheery wave went off.

  An hour later, dressed in a pair of black trousers that had obviously belonged to the young seaman, for they fitted her quite snugly, and a voluminous sweater that was very much on the fashionable bulky, lines, Laura climbed the companion ladder to the deck. A small lantern rocked from side to side, creaking in rhythm with the ship as she walked along the deck. Leaning on the rail she peered out over the water, trying not to think of what might have happened if they had not been saved. A sound beside her made her turn and she saw Nikolaos. In navy jeans, his legs encased in rubber boots, his massive chest straining at a faded blue sweater, he looked so different from his normal self that she could not help laughing.

  "I know I look a sight," he grinned, "but then we don't all have your advantage."

  "What advantage?"

  "Beauty."

  She was glad that the darkness hid her blush. How inconsistent human beings were, she thought; to have shared the intimacies of the past few days with this man and yet to colour like a schoolgirl when given a compliment.

  "Is everyone else all right?" she asked quickly.

  Perfectly, and you'll be pleased to know we've received a radio message to say the other dinghies were picked up almost at the same time as we were."

  Laura breathed a sigh of relief and turned to look out again at the horizon. Her hair blew wild in the breeze and she was unconscious of the picture she made, her profile serious and intent, the straight line of her nose, the full curve of her mouth.

  "This time tomorrow," he said quietly, "we shall be in England. I expect your company will give you a few weeks' leave."

  She shrugged. "I don't know what they do in these circumstances. Psychologically it might be better for me to continue flying straight away. I don't want to lose my nerve."

  "You'll never do that."

  She did not answer and the silence between them was broken by the gentle soughing of the sea against the sides of the ship. She half turned and looked at him. Moonlight blanched his face and he appeared like the graven image of a figurehead; the jutting angles of his jaw and nose, the flat sides of his cheekbones, the thick, tough, unruly hair that was so much like his character.

  She searched for a sign of gentleness but could not find it. Tall though she was, he towered above her, his broad shoulders shielding her from the wind. Strange that although they had been so close together in the dinghy, she had never felt the sense of intimacy she was now experiencing. As if he too were aware of it, he put his hand on her arm.

  "We've gone through a great deal together, Laura," he said softly. "When I first saw you in my home so many months ago, I never thought I would be sharing what could almost have been my last hours, with you."

  "Well, they weren't your last hours," she said lightly.

  "They could have been and I wouldn't have chosen anyone else to share them with."

  A question came into her mind. She did not want to ask it and yet she knew that unless she did, it would torment her for ever. "If this had happened to us before Andreas had told you he wanted to marry me, would you have still refused to give your consent?"

  He was silent for a long time, his thick brows drawn together in a frown. "Yes," he said at last. "My answer would still have been no."

  Hurt, she turned away, but he sidestepped so that he was still in front of her. "Don't misunderstand me, Laura. It's because I believe, even more now than I did before, that my cousin is not the man for you. You were never truly in love with him."

  "What right have you to say that? You don't even know what love is!"

  "I know milch better than you."

  Before she realised what he was going to do, he pulled her into his arms and pressed his mouth on hers. His skin, unshaven, was rough against her cheek. With all her strength she tried to push him away but she did not have a chance against him. Again and again he kissed her, drawing the very strength from her limbs. Her body responded to his touch like a vio
lin to a master, and it was only then, when his strength over her was at its greatest, that he let her go.

  She swayed against the rail, the horizon and sea blending into one before her eyes.

  "I'll never forgive you for that!" she said.

  "Yes you will," he replied. "I promise that you will."

  Without another word he turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the moonlight.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A CHILL wind was whipping down the Strand as Laura left the main offices of Transmondial, her jaunty yellow hat defying the murky skies, her pale grey coat buttoned high at the neck. The effects of the air crash had long since disappeared and in the dim afternoon she shone with life and vitality. Three weeks had elapsed since the tramp steamer had landed them at Tilbury and she had been given a month's leave. Now there were only six days of it left and although she had enjoyed her rest, she was anxious to return to work. Luckily Celia had been on leave for part of the time and they had gone out on occasional foursomes, Laura with a young man she had met on one of her trips to New York and Celia with Tim O'Brien, who was still a regular escort.

  Today Celia had gone to Kent and Laura had lunched alone and then visited the Transmondial office. She paused at the kerb to wait for a break in the traffic and had one foot in the road when someone touched her arm.

  "Laura, my dear!"

  She swung round, her eyes widening. "Andreas!"

  He smiled gravely. "It's been such a long time since I saw you. I needn't ask how you are—you look wonderful."

  "I feel wonderful." She moistened her lips. "You're looking very well too."

  "I feel a great deal better now than I did a few weeks ago when your plane was reported missing. The three days they were searching for you seemed like a lifetime."

  "You must have been worried about your cousin," she said pointedly.

  "I was worried about both of you. I've never forgotten you, Laura, and I never will." He took her arm.

  "But we can't stand here talking. Come and have tea with me."

  She hesitated and then allowed him to guide her through the traffic and along the road to the Savoy. The restaurant was almost empty and they sat at a table by the window. Watching him as he ordered their tea, Laura was surprised by her lack of emotion. She had not seen Andreas since his marriage and she might equally well have been watching a stranger, so little did he mean to her. She closed her eyes for an instant, remembering the time when she had been in love with him. But if it had been love how could she have got over it so quickly? 'Maybe I'm fickle,' she thought. 'Maybe I'm the sort of girl who's only capable of being in love with her career.'

  "How are things with you?" she asked.

  He looked down at the tablecloth. "Eugenie is an admirable wife. She's—she's expecting a baby."

  "How lovely for you."

  He looked up. "I'm very proud. I hope it will be a boy."

  "Naturally," she said dryly. "A girl couldn't carry on the name of Dimar!"

  He ignored her sarcasm and leaned forward. "How are things with you, Laura? I hope you still don't feel bitter towards me."

  "Not now. I did at first but it all seems such a long time ago."

  "It seems that way to me too. At one time I thought I'd go mad trying to forget you, but now…" His voice trailed away and she smiled.

  "Don't be embarrassed, Andreas. Nothing stands still, particularly people's emotions."

  "But we would have been happy together," he said passionately. "If only———— "

  "Andreas, don't! I hate the word 'if. You're married and you're happy. You needn't deny it, I can see it in your face. And I'm happy too." Suddenly she remembered Nikolaos' words: "You would never have found happiness with Andreas because he is a boy with no experience of life and you are a woman with a woman's capacity for loving."

  Sitting beside Andreas now, she conceded bitterly that his cousin had been right after all. How delighted he would be to hear it! Thinking of him, arrogant and masterful, she did not need to close her eyes to bring him to mind.

  "How is your cousin keeping?" she asked politely as she poured the tea.

  "He's in Athens at the moment. After the crash we tried to persuade him to take a holiday but he wouldn't hear of it. He puts business before everything."

  "It's the only thing that matters to him," Laura said expressionlessly.

  "I wouldn't say that." There was a strange note in Andreas' voice that made her look at him sharply. "For the first time in his life he seems to have something on his mind apart from work."

  "Really? What?"

  "You."

  "Don't be ridiculous!"

  "I'm not ridiculous. You made a great impression on him during the time you were together. He talked of little else. Why, I even know that you nursed a baby for two days because the mother was hysterical." Andreas' eyes were alight with mischief. "Would you like to know what my cousin calls you?"

  Although convinced she was being teased. Laura could not help feeling curious. "I'm sure it's something rude."

  "On the contrary. He calls you a red-haired madonna."

  The answer was so unexpected that she did not know what to say. A mixture of unease and excitement took possession of her, and with an effort she changed the subject. "How is your sister? I suppose she's married by now."

  He shook his head. "She caught polio a few weeks after her birthday party and has only just recovered."

  "How awful! I'd no idea. Is she quite better?"

  "Yes, but rather spoiled I'm afraid. It was such a wonderful relief when she recovered that we gave in to her tantrums."

  "You mean she hasn't got to marry Stephanos after all?"

  "No, no, I don't mean that. But while she was ill we thought it unwise to prevent her seeing Philip Burrows. In any case it would have been difficult for he was an intern in the same hospital."

  Laura could not help smiling. "Poor Nikolaos! So Fate intervened to overrule him after all!"

  If he understood what she meant, Andreas gave no indication and busied himself with a cake. He still had a fondness for sweet things, Laura noted with amusement, and watched him consume two eclairs and a mille feulille.

  Some more people came into the restaurant and idly she watched them, stiffening as she saw a petite, dark-haired girl and a tall, thin young man with hair so blond that it was almost white. Hearing her catch her breath, Andreas looked round, giving an exclamation as he recognised his sister and Philip Burrows. At the same instant Melissa saw them, hesitated and then defiantly holding Philip's hand, walked forward.

  "Laura! How lovely to see you. I've been meaning to get in touch with you but I've been ill."

  "I know. Your brother's just been telling me."

  "Melissa!" Andreas interrupted. "What are you doing here?"

  "The same as you," the girl retorted and turned to Laura again. "I'd like you to meet Philip Burrows. I've told you about him."

  Laura looked into the freckled face and candid grey eyes and immediately liked what she saw. Philip smiled at her and glanced uncomfortably at Andreas.

  "Perhaps we'd better go somewhere else, Melissa."

  "You needn't bother," Andreas said rudely. "Now that I've seen you together there's no point in hiding." He signalled a waiter to bring two more chairs and when they had sat down, spoke to his sister. "Nikolaos is coming home today."

  "I don't care if he is." Although Melissa's voice was nonchalant, Laura sensed the undercurrent of anxiety and was moved by pity as the girl turned to her. "You don't know how much I've longed to talk to you, Laura," she said. "I do hope we can meet again soon."

  "Of course we will." Laura spoke with more conviction than she felt, for though she liked Melissa, she was determined not to become involved with any of the Dimar family again.

  The waiter set a fresh pot of tea in front of them and in the diversion created, conversation became general. Covertly Laura studied the young doctor. Every now and then he glanced at Melissa, his look so full of love
and tenderness that she could understand the Greek girl's feelings for him. How cruel Nikolaos was to try and part them! Surely he realised how much they meant to each other?

  Laura pushed aside her empty cup and glanced at her watch. "I'll have to go now, Andreas."

  "I'll find you a taxi."

  They stood up and as he paid the bill, Melissa leaned forward. "Will you meet me here for tea tomorrow, Laura? I want to talk to you alone."

  Laura hesitated.

  "Please," the girl pleaded.

  "Very well. At four o'clock."

  Andreas looked annoyed but he said nothing until Laura was seated in the taxi. "I suppose my sister wants to enlist your help with Nikolaos."

  "Your cousin wouldn't listen to me. Besides, I'm not likely to see him again."

  "Aren't you?" he said enigmatically. "Don't be too sure of that."

  Driving away, she puzzled over his remark but could not begin to understand what he had meant by it.

  "Bother the Dimars," she said aloud. "I wish I'd never met them!"

  Climbing the stairs to the flat, Laura heard the telephone ringing and hurrying into the sitting-room, answered it. The clipped voice at the other end was painfully familiar, bringing back so many memories that she sat down, trembling. What could Nikolaos want?

  "I thought you were in Athens," she said.

  "I got back a couple of hours ago. I want to see you,

  Laura."

  Nervously she pushed the heavy waves of dark red hair away from her face. "I'm busy. As a matter of fact, I'm on my way out."

  "I don't want to see you now. I want to see you tonight."

  She stiffened angrily. "If Andreas has told you I'm meeting Melissa."

  "What's she got to do with it? I want to see you."

  "I told you I'm busy."

  "I don't believe you. Look," he said patiently, "I can't talk much now, I've a score of people waiting to see me and I'll be tied up with them till eight. I'll send my car to bring you to the flat at quarter past."