The Windmill of Kalakos

by Iris Danbury

  To her relief, he rose now and ambled off towards the sea. When he came out of the water she was sitting in the shade of the car. He towelled himself and occasionally glared at her. Droplets of water clung to his chest and shoulders and instantly she recalled that day in Lindos when Mallory had helped to dry her back and she had tingled with delight at his touch.

  This man, Ray Gurney, evoked no response in her at the sight of his athletic figure, the fair smooth skin and the tufts of down on his chest. She could only try to put Mallory in his place, but that was entirely futile.

  “I wonder if you’d shout for help if you were down here alone with that boss of yours,” Ray muttered as he pulled his shirt over his head.

  When she did not answer, he seized her wrist. “Well! Why don’t you answer?”

  “The situation wouldn’t arise,” Jacynth said more coolly than she felt.

  “But how you hope it would!” he jeered. “You’ve gone overboard for him, I really do believe, but how far will that get you?”

  “If I had gone overboard for him, it wouldn’t get me anywhere.”

  “I’m glad you realise that. He’d never marry you, no matter what happened. I don’t suppose you’re the first pretty secretary he’s had—and sent packing when he was tired of her.”

  “Mr. Brendon is probably going to marry a very wealthy Greek heiress,” Jacynth said emphatically, trying to stop this conversation heading for even more dangerous channels.

  “Oh, indeed! Nothing like money attracting money.”

  “Probably at some time in the future you yourself might be glad to find a girl with some financial backing,” she snapped.

  To her surprise, he smiled. “I suppose I deserved that. I guess you’re about right. Girls with money—or well-to-do fathers—aren’t exactly growing on trees, but I’d be prepared to take on someone with brains as well as looks. That’s why I like you, Jacynth.” He bent down and took her hand gently in his. “Together we could do great things. I couldn’t afford to marry yet—but—”

  “I like you, too, Ray,” she interrupted, forcing warmth into her tone. “So don’t let’s spoil everything by your being too impulsive.”

  He puffed out a sigh of resignation, and gave her a defeated kind of smile.

  “All right. We’ll keep it all on a business footing—for the time being. Don’t forget that soon I’ll be able to give you at least as good a job as you have now—probably better. More interesting, anyway. In due course, we might even go into partnership—in every way.”

  She smiled at him, appreciative of his ability to control himself and switch his mind to his commercial ambitions. “I’ll remember what you say. Now, could we go home soon? I still have a lot of work to do tonight.”

  “Huh! Work for that man is all you think about.”

  “You’ll be the same when your business is flourishing,” she reminded him. “Some of your social dates will have to be abandoned if you have an important deal coming up or have to sit somewhere and work out a list of prices.”

  Now he laughed. “You hit the target fair and square, don’t you? All right, there’ll be no more pleasure in the day, so we might as well go home. Actually, I could do with an hour or so tonight myself, working on some invoices.”

  Even so, Jacynth arrived at the Villa Kalakos later than she had intended and prevailed on Ray to drop her outside the gates. Nikon opened the door to her and, with a murmured greeting, she hurried past him and fled swiftly up the stairs, but she had gained less than half a dozen before a voice compelled her to turn. Mallory stood at the foot of the staircase, his face stern and his eyes cold.

  “So you’ve been out most of the day?” he queried.

  “Yes, but I intend to do some of the work now.”

  “You’d better come in here and we’ll discuss what needs to be done.”

  He waited while she reluctantly descended the stairs and joined him in the office sitting room.

  “I have been out most of today,” she said, “but I think you’ll find I’ve not slacked on the important matters.”

  He was staring at her, his dark eyes glittering with an expression she could not fathom.

  “With that boy-friend of yours?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s apparently acquired a car to take you about.”

  “He has hired one here in Rhodes.”

  “Turn round,” he commanded. She had been most careful not to display her back view with the top of her dress ripped and the zip useless. In the car she had done her best to fasten the dress with a safety pin, and unfortunately, today of all days, she had not taken with her any kind of jacket or scarf to hide the damage.

  “Turn round, I said.” His voice was even harsher than usual and she knew that if she hesitated any longer to obey, he would forcibly seize her shoulders and twist her.

  “An accident with your dress?” he asked sardonically.

  “Yes. The zip caught and—and I—tore it—we were going swimming—”

  His contemptuous smile chilled her heart. “I see. And I suppose your impatient fingers did this damage to the rest of your back. Or was it someone else’s hands clawing at you?”

  “The beach was—rather stony,” she muttered.

  He came behind her and unfastened the safety pin, while Jacynth stood there trembling with mingled terror and ecstasy. Was he going to repeat that incident of a few weeks ago when he had savagely kissed her after Ray had left?

  Now he inspected the scratches and bruises on her back, then twisted her to face him, pulling down the shoulder of her dress. Abruptly, he jerked the dress up again to her neck.

  “You need have no fears from me,” he assured her, and she heard the whiplash of scorn in his words. “I’m not aching to kiss you where other men have planted their lips. You’d better put some ointment on those grazes and scratches.”

  “But when I’ve changed my dress, I’ll come down and—”

  “You’ll do nothing of the kind. Just go. The work can wait.”

  In her room she felt as though she had been publicly whipped. Of course he had seen her back as she ascended the stairs immediately after she had entered the front door. Returning earlier than he had said he would from Crete and then spying on her. Waiting for her, ready to pounce. But her resentment and indignation gave way to tears of grief that he believed that she had allowed Ray to make love to her, when there was only one man in the world to whom she would so gladly make the sweet surrender.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After Jacynth had showered, dabbed cream on her back and dressed again, she wondered if Mallory intended to send her supperless to bed, the conventional punishment for naughty children. But she saw no reason to skulk in her room and marched resolutely downstairs, hoping that Mallory was not in her office.

  There were no signs of a meal being laid and she went to the kitchen, where Nikon was stirring something in a saucepan. She guessed immediately that Caterina was definitely ill, and Nikon confirmed, half in English, half in Greek, that his wife had severe pains and had gone to bed.

  “But the doctor?” queried Jacynth.

  “No, not yet.” He added that Caterina would probably recover by the morning, but Jacynth was alarmed and asked if she could go up and see Caterina.

  The housekeeper lay with eyes closed when the girl entered the room, but at the sound of Nikon’s voice, she turned over and smiled at Jacynth, apologising for her inability to cook the evening dinner.

  Jacynth waved away such apologies and asked if Mr. Brendon knew.

  Nikon explained that he had told his master, who decided to go out for a meal.

  “Tomorrow morning Caterina must have the doctor,” Jacynth declared.

  The woman answered weakly that tomorrow she would be better and not need the doctor.

  Downstairs again, Jacynth arranged to share whatever meal Nikon was preparing for himself and as he had a pot of soup on the stove, she took up a portion to Caterina.

  As she shared the smoked
ham and salad, then some cheese, with Nikon in the kitchen, he spoke of several other slight illnesses Caterina had suffered in the past year.

  Now he shrugged his burly shoulders and told Jacynth that there was no need to worry. Caterina would recover quickly as she had in the past.

  Jacynth promised to get up early next day and prepare her own coffee and rolls for breakfast. When she went into the kitchen just before half-past six next morning, she was surprised to find Mallory already there. He and Nikon were talking in Greek and Jacynth caught the gist of the conversation.

  “How is Caterina?” asked Jacynth of Nikon, ignoring Mallory.

  Mallory answered, “Not at her best, I’m afraid.”

  “She needs a doctor.”

  “We shall see later if that’s necessary.

  Indignation rose in Jacynth’s throat like a gigantic marble. “How can you be so callous!” she demanded. “Caterina seemed desperately ill last night when I saw her.”

  Mallory gave her an oblique glance, arrogant and contemptuous. “Your coffee is ready. Perhaps you’ll take your own tray and carry it somewhere. We’re rather short-staffed here at present.”

  “I’ll eat my breakfast here in the kitchen,” she said defiantly, and sat down at the scrubbed table.

  “As you wish,” Mallory inclined his head almost graciously, then sat opposite her. This action disconcerted her, for she was acutely aware of his proximity, as always. He was wearing a dark blue brocade dressing-gown and his thick dark hair had not been disciplined into its normal tidiness.

  After a moment or two Nikon left the kitchen to take some coffee to his wife.

  “You must have realised,” began Jacynth, losing no time in her attack, “that Caterina has far too much to do to run this house and cook all the meals. It’s hardly to be wondered that occasionally she might crack up.”

  Mallory raised his eyebrows in a questioning glance.

  “Are you now taking it upon yourself to run my house for me?”

  She coloured furiously. “Not at all, but you could surely arrange for the housekeeper to have assistance.”

  “I’ve offered any amount of assistance—women to clean the house, girls to help with the cooking—but Caterina is stubborn—as you would understand if you knew anything about the Greek race.”

  She was temporarily silenced and gave her attention to her breakfast.

  After a long pause, Mallory spoke again. “I understand that you’ve been in the habit for some time of cleaning and tidying your own bedroom.”

  “Is that an accusation?” she asked sharply. “I’ve been brought up not to leave my room looking as though an avalanche had hit it, and I thought I could save Caterina a small amount of extra work by making my own bed.”

  Mallory carefully buttered a piece of roll. Then he asked, “Do you know how to cook?”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise. He was adept at avoiding a direct challenge, but flinging one back in return. “I can cook simple meals—after a fashion. Why?”

  “Perhaps you could try your hand at simple meals for a day or two. Nikon is useful in many ways, but not exactly as a chef.”

  “I couldn’t undertake to cook in the Greek manner.”

  “No one is asking you to do that. Merely to save us from starvation.”

  In spite of her angry determination not to yield meekly to his demands, Jacynth laughed. “Starvation?” she echoed. “There are restaurants not far away.”

  “Caterina’s feelings would be hurt if she found out that we went out to our food. There’s also Nikon to be thought of.”

  Jacynth was lost in trying to equate this strange man’s sense of compassion with his relentless tyranny in other directions.

  “I shall certainly need help from Nikon if I’m to use that frightful stove,” she said at last.

  “Naturally you’ve been accustomed to the luxury of electric or gas cookers,” he gibed.

  “I can’t be expected to be in two places at once, slaving over a hot stove and—”

  “Slaving over a typewriter,” he finished for her. “Perhaps we can arrange short sessions for each of your activities.”

  She gently shook her head from side to side and smiled. “I see I can’t win,” she murmured.

  “Of course it’s no part of your contract as my secretary that you should help in the kitchen and you have every right to refuse.”

  “What would happen if I did refuse?” She was surprised at her own temerity in asking the question.

  “I’ll decide what course to take if and when that happens.” He rose from the table, took his plate and cup and saucer to the sink. “The doctor will be here soon after nine o’clock. You’d better be around to take his instructions.”

  He went out of the kitchen before she could frame any reply. So he had already called the doctor?

  When Nikon returned, Jacynth discussed what could be arranged and he agreed to help her wherever possible, although he pointed out that while he could make good coffee and tasty soup, this was the limit of his culinary talent.

  Jacynth decided she could probably conjure up a moussaka for lunch if Nikon could prepare some of the ingredients. Fruit and cheese would have to complete the meal and Mallory would have to like it or lump it, she decided.

  When she returned to her office sitting-room, she found a flat parcel on her table. She opened it to discover a handsome tile plaque of the Prince of the Lilies. There was nothing to indicate the sender, but only Mallory could have placed the gift there. A surge of great delight ran through her because he had not only brought her this token from Crete, but it represented an apology for breaking her Prince of the Lilies vase that Ray had given her.

  She was still holding the plaque in her hands when Mallory came in.

  “I thought you’d better have it now,” he said, with a grin. “Otherwise you won’t know if it’s meant to be an award for your excellent cooking.”

  “You’d better wait and see what my cooking is like, but in the meantime, many thanks for the Prince. It’s incomparable.” She wanted to fling her arms around his neck and kiss him in the manner of a child who has been given a delightful present, but she restrained herself.

  When the doctor came to see Caterina, he immediately ordered her to hospital.

  “How serious?” asked Jacynth.

  “Perhaps not very serious, but she must be examined properly and needs rest. I think she will not rest if she remains at home.”

  Jacynth agreed that Caterina would insist on getting up the moment she felt slightly better.

  Mallory drove Caterina accompanied by her husband to the hospital, but Jacynth, who had offered to go as well, stayed at home to press on with her own work and then to attend to the cooking.

  When Nikon returned alone in a taxi he was looking more cheerful. “Only a few days,” he told Jacynth, “and she will be home again.”

  Jacynth hoped that would be true, not merely for her own sake, but for Nikon’s.

  Mallory did not come in for lunch but telephoned in the afternoon that he would be home about seven for dinner. “I can’t wait to sample your delicacies,” he said, and rang off before Jacynth could think of a suitable reply.

  Nikon offered to go into the town and buy fresh red mullet, a supply of meat and fruit and vegetables which he did not grow himself.

  Jacynth asked how often he had to shop in the usual way and he replied, “Every two days.”

  “Can’t food and the rest be delivered?”

  Nikon’s face assumed a horrified expression. “Not fresh,” he declared, and rambled on in his mixture of Greek and English that good food must be personally selected or else the suppliers would send you inferior stuff which they could not easily sell.

  Jacynth agreed that this was no doubt the ideal way, in fact, the old traditional way, and obviously superior, as far as quality went, to stacking quantities into refrigerators.

  When Nikon returned and laid out his purchases on the kitchen table, Jacynth’s heart
sank. Red mullet she had seen before in the raw state, but now there were cuts of meat of strange shapes and textures together with outsize onions, cabbages with crinkled leaves, aubergines and artichokes; one parcel contained small squids, kalamarakia, a dish which she had eaten but never before prepared, and on the edge of the table a large crayfish.

  She instructed Nikon to put away some of the food into the refrigerator, but he took the squids outside and put them in a bucket of water.

  She decided that she would start cooking at six o’clock and went back to her office to finish some typing. It then occurred to her that Mallory’s bedroom had probably not been attended to and she went in search of Nikon to ask which room.

  When he told her that he had himself made the bed and tidied the room, Jacynth hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry. Relieved in one sense that Mallory would not return home to an untidy room with an unmade bed, she yet longed for a glimpse of his room, so that she could visualise him when he occupied it.

  She pushed these futile thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on the work in hand, conscious that having spent most of the previous day with Ray, she was already far behind schedule.

  When later she joined Nikon in the kitchen, she found him very useful. He prepared the fish, peeled and chopped onions and showed her which saucepans and frying pans to use.

  Mallory came into the kitchen when she was putting the finishing touches to a dish that purported to be keftedes, spiced meat-balls, but some of them would not keep their rounded shape and fell apart.

  “Too much meat, not enough bread,” was Mallory’s verdict.

  “I have the fish course ready,” she told him. “I’ll serve it in five minutes if you’ll go into the dining room.”

  “Oh, dismissed, I see. Perhaps I’d better have an omelette after all.”

  “After all!” she echoed angrily. “After I’ve taken some trouble to please you with your own style of cooking!”

  She raised her head to find his eyes glittering with amusement and her hands trembled. Oh, why did he have to come butting in just when she needed all her self-control to cope with such unexpected duties in his house?