The Windmill of Kalakos

by Iris Danbury

Reluctantly, Jacynth withdrew and returned to her own room. She had never admitted strangers into Mallory’s study, but Hermione was not actually in that category.

  After a few minutes, Hermione came into Jacynth’s room. “I couldn’t get him at either number. So will you tell him I called? Ask him to phone me when he comes home. Better still, say that I shall expect him for dinner at the Grand Summer Palace.”

  “Certainly, Miss Perandopoulos.” Jacynth was politeness itself, but could not restrain an inward delight that Mallory already had a prior engagement for dinner with herself.

  Unless, she reflected dubiously after Hermione’s departure, Mallory changed his mind and decided that the Greek girl had a greater claim on his companionship tonight.

  As soon as he came in, Jacynth reported the gist of the interview with Hermione, omitting the more personal cut-and-thrusts.

  “I’ll telephone her straightaway,” he said, and retired to his study. Jacynth waited in her “office”, but after some twenty minutes she became impatient. Surely Mallory would come and tell her if he had altered tonight’s arrangements. She picked up a file as a pretext and went along to his study.

  She asked one or two business queries, then, taking her courage in her hands, said tentatively, “The arrangement you made—about dinner—does it still stand?”

  He stared at her for a moment and colour flooded into her cheeks. “The arrangement? Of course.”

  “But Miss Perandopoulos?”

  He waved his hand as though to brush away all importuning Greek girls. “Oh, I’m not a puppet on a string, ready to dance to any woman’s tune. Go and get yourself ready, but don’t dress up. It’s a simple place where we’re going.”

  She waited until she was safely outside the door before she allowed her face to relax into smiles of delight and, perhaps, a hint of triumph.

  Mallory drove some miles along the coast, then turned inland to climb the hilly road through pines and cypress trees.

  Jacynth schooled herself to sit sedately beside him, although sheer enchantment enveloped her in a blissful sense of gladness.

  He stopped in the centre of a small village where a flight of wooden steps led to a long building shaded by a verandah. At the top of the steps Mallory was greeted by a burly man with enormous waxed moustaches and a beaming smile.

  Jacynth was introduced to the man Andreas, who then led the way through the one-storey building to a large room built on the back. Several long tables were arranged around the sides, so that a clear space was left in the middle.

  Jacynth understood at once that there would be a display of local dancing, but she was intrigued by the sight of saucers of honey accompanied by hunks of brownish bread set out along the wooden tables.

  After a few minutes about a dozen people entered the room and began to choose their seats.

  “We’d better choose our own,” Mallory spoke to Jacynth, “or we shall lose the best places. And we were here first.”

  His smiling glance played havoc with her composure, as usual, but she followed him to the seats he selected.

  “You must begin to eat,” he whispered, as he broke his portion of bread and dipped pieces into the saucer of honey.

  Jacynth copied his example, and while she found the honey delightful and the bread much lighter in texture than it looked, she wondered what sort of dinner would follow this odd first course.

  Mallory filled her glass from one of the bottles of local wine ranged along the table, and then helped himself to schnapps. It was not long before the dancers appeared, eight in local costume, to perform their sequence of the formal, graceful movements handed down by tradition. Mallory explained to Jacynth the meaning of the individual dances, that one was usually performed at weddings in honour of the bride, another might be for a joyous homecoming of a member of the family, or the birth of a child.

  When the finale was reached, this with much stamping and leaping by the men, Jacynth said, “Oh, I enjoyed all that very much.”

  “And the wine and honey?” Mallory queried. “This is the normal hospitality that any Greek household will show to strangers, bread and honey and wine. So now we’ll go and have our dinner.”

  He escorted her, after prolonged farewells to Andreas, to another house in the village, where meals were served in a garden affording a wonderful panorama of the hills surrounding the village.

  Mallory had warned her that the restaurant was only a simple place, but Jacynth thought the meal was superb, with fish in spicy sauces, delicious kebabs with aubergines, then the lightest of pastry cases filled with almond paste and raisins.

  “You would hardly expect such a meal in so tiny a village,” she said to Mallory.

  “Oh, Georgy is very proud of his cooking. He goes in to Rhodes market every day and buys all his stuff absolutely fresh.”

  “As Nikon likes to do.”

  “That reminds me—Caterina will be coming home in a couple of days’ time, so you’ll be out of your kitchen job.”

  She gave him a questioning glance. “Won’t she need a few days at home for rest before she’s pitchforked into the work of the household?”

  He nodded. “She can take it easy for a while. She has that girl there to help her.”

  Jacynth put down her wineglass deliberately. “It may not be my place to speak, but I feel that you impose too much on Caterina.”

  “Really?” His lifted eyebrows almost daunted her, but she was determined to strike a blow for Caterina.

  “Yes. She’s on the go from morning till night, coping with all that housework as well as all the cooking, even though Nikon does the marketing.”

  “She’s never complained.”

  “You know perfectly well that she would rather drop down dead in her kitchen than complain.”

  He rested his chin on the palm of his hand and stared at her across the table, making it difficult for her to sustain his gaze.

  “But you would never put up with such a tyrannical employer?” he taunted.

  “My case is different. I’m usually sitting down to the job, but Caterina is on her feet most of the day.”

  “And what do you suggest? How shall I arrange my household?”

  “Well, perhaps you could keep the girl Chloe. I know she came in only temporarily, but Caterina could do with help in the rest of the house. Then she wouldn’t get so tired standing to do the cooking.”

  “In future, I shall make no demands on her at all. I’ll have the simplest meals, omelettes, bread and cheese, so no elaborate cooking will have to be done for me. As for other people in the house, they must arrange with Caterina for themselves.” He gave her a dark, mischievous look and his eyes were dancing.

  “Even that wouldn’t please Caterina. She likes cooking a variety of dishes and gets cross when sometimes all her efforts are wasted.”

  “I must bear in mind all you say.” Now he was laughing at her, but she did not mind, for she felt that his attitude at this moment was more congenial than usual.

  “If Caterina is soon coming home, then will it be necessary to accept the offer made by Miss Perandopoulos to borrow a cook?”

  “I think that’s hardly likely. That would put Caterina’s nose out of joint—and possibly yours?” In almost a split second, his manner had changed and become cold and sardonic.

  “Probably I shouldn’t have mentioned the subject,” she said as coolly as she could, although she was raging inwardly and calling herself several sorts of fool for having meddled in his household concerns.

  “In any case, I’m shortly joining Hermione and her father for a cruise on their yacht, so Caterina will have an easier time while I’m away.”

  So shall I, she thought. I might need a quiet period to settle myself without these anguished adjustments to the man’s moods.

  Yet at the end of the evening he seemed to have recovered a more lighthearted attitude. When she stepped out of the car outside the door of the Villa Kalakos, she thanked him for a very pleasant evening. “Not only the din
ner, but the dancing at that other place.”

  “Who knows what my motives might have been!” he answered. “Perhaps it was the thought of my own digestion—and a relief from your cooking!”

  She was tempted to fling at him that he could always avail himself of Hermione’s offer and accept one of her chefs, but that would have been foolhardy and she went up to her room, content with the thought that in spite of Hermione’s invitation to dinner, he had fulfilled his promise to herself. That was at least a small, but not insignificant, victory.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  During Mallory’s absence on the Perandopoulos yacht, Jacynth was glad that she had little time to brood over what might be happening between Mallory and Hermione. He had left her an enormous amount of work and pages of instructions, but there were situations which might arise where she could use her own initiative, he told her. He entrusted her with keys to his desk and impressed on her that on no account was she to tell anyone that he had gone cruising.

  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.

  “Just say that I’m away for a few days, take whatever messages are given and leave it at that.”

  Caterina was back and declared that she was quite well, but Jacynth persuaded her to accept Chloe’s help in the house.

  “Then all you have to do is the cooking and you can rest part of the day,” advised Jacynth.

  Caterina’s smile lit up her gaunt face. “You are a kind girl,” she murmured in Greek.

  Sara had written that she and David would be coming to Rhodes at the end of the week and would be staying at the Mediterranean Hotel.

  “Let me know if you don’t want to see David and I’ll see that he’s out of the way,” wrote Sara.

  Jacynth replied that there was no need and she would be delighted to see them both.

  She arranged her work for Mallory so that she could take all the afternoon and evening of the day she was to meet the couple.

  Sara looked radiantly happy, and now Jacynth found she could look at David and see in him only the handsome husband of her cousin.

  Sara plied her with questions about the job and Jacynth’s employer. “How old is he?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “Oh, I’d imagined him more in his forties, perhaps. He treats you well?”

  Jacynth smiled. “Very well—as long as I satisfy him in the work I do.”

  “It’s rather an odd set-up, isn’t it? Living in his house?”

  “He prefers it that way. And of course it saves making journeys to and fro to an office.”

  “He’s away now, you say,” pursued Sara, with a smile. “I’d have liked to meet him.”

  “He’s travelling about and will be away for a week or more.” Jacynth was undecided whether she wanted Sara to meet Mallory. Her cousin’s sharp eyes might detect that Jacynth’s interest in her employer was not entirely limited to his business concerns. “I can take you to the house where I live, if you want to be assured that it’s a respectable place,” she added now, laughing.

  “Might be a good idea,” agreed Sara. After a pause she asked, “Have you made any friends on the island?”

  “Well, no,” replied Jacynth. “Working in the house I don’t meet many people, but I met a young man at the airport when I came here and he’s here on business sometimes, so we go out together occasionally.”

  David suggested they might go to the Sound and Light programme in the old city that night. “Would your friend care to join us? I know it’s short notice, but perhaps you can telephone?”

  Actually, Jacynth was reluctant to issue invitations to Ray on her own behalf, especially after that last encounter on the deserted beach, but she realised that a foursome would be more satisfactory than a threesome with Sara and David.

  Ray was delighted to be asked, although he already had an engagement, he said, but would forgo that for the pleasure of being with Jacynth.

  After dinner at Sara’s hotel, the three met Ray at the entrance to the gardens from which the Sound and Light spectacle could be viewed. A small open-air amphitheatre provided an excellent view of the old walls and battlements which would be illuminated.

  Jacynth was enthralled by the historical commentary and skilful lighting to accompany it, but towards the end, she became aware of Ray’s boredom.

  “Not really up my street,” he confessed when the four were on the way out. “I’m all for everything modern and up-to-date.”

  On the other hand, David in his profession of architect was also keenly interested in archaeology and had visited sites in Greece and Crete.

  “You must go to Lindos while you’re here,” Jacynth suggested, remembering the happy day she had spent there with Mallory.

  During the rest of the time while Sara and David were in Rhodes, Jacynth managed to arrange her own work so that she could spend free time with them on some of the days.

  Sara very much wanted to see the Villa Kalakos and the conditions in which Jacynth worked, so Jacynth arranged for the others to come one morning.

  “I apologise for not offering lunch, but Caterina, the housekeeper, has been ill and if she knows there are visitors, she’ll take special trouble to provide a very elaborate meal. Come about eleven and I’ll have coffee and cakes ready.”

  After a short tour of inspection over the house, Sara pronounced herself satisfied that her cousin was working in reasonably comfortable circumstances. Jacynth had not entered Mallory’s study and of course made no mention of the locked room. David was fascinated by the windmill and explored the interior.

  “All these old windmills ought to be preserved, instead of most of them being knocked down when new hotels are built,” he said. “This one could do with a small amount of restoration and your boss could make it quite a showplace.”

  Jacynth laughed. “I’ll pass on your instructions.”

  On their last evening in Rhodes before they left for some of the other Greek islands, Sara and David invited Jacynth and Ray to dinner at their hotel. During the meal Jacynth examined her emotions towards David and was gratified to find that she could look at him without a tremor of excitement. She could even take the utmost pleasure in the fact that he adored Sara and that her cousin, radiantly beautiful with her red-gold hair and dark violet eyes, had chosen this man out of all the throng who were attracted to her. Jacynth sincerely hoped that Sara and David would share a mutual happiness for all their lives.

  In the few moments when she and Sara were alone while the two men had strolled off to the hotel terrace, Sara said quietly, “This man Ray—are you fond of him, Jacynth?”

  “Why? Does it look as if I am?”

  Sara frowned slightly. “No, perhaps not.”

  “I’m not making that mistake again,” Jacynth reassured her cousin. “I’ve learned not to confuse infatuation with love.”

  Sara looked across at Ray’s back as he stood with David. “He’s not right for you, dear,” she whispered. “Find other friends and don’t let him think he can count on you.”

  Jacynth smiled. “Sara, it’s sweet of you to care about me, but I’m very happy here, and I count Ray as no more than an acquaintance.”

  “He’s a phoney,” was Sara’s assessment. “There’s no solid core of kindness in him. He’s shallow and would send anyone to the wall for the sake of his ambitions.”

  “You have summed him up,” said Jacynth, laughing, “but you’ve no need to worry.” Not about that man, she added to herself. It was perhaps fortunate that the two men returned before Sara could delve into Jacynth’s emotional relationship with her employer.

  After Sara’s departure with David, Ray seemed anxious to renew his friendship with Jacynth, offering to take her to places whenever he was in Rhodes and had time.

  Jacynth excused herself from immedi
ate arrangements on the ground that she had already spent time with her cousin and her husband and must now make up on Mallory’s work.

  “But I’ll come out again when I can manage it,” she agreed, placatingly, for in some ways she liked Ray, although she could see some of his most glaring faults.

  When Mallory returned from the yachting trip, he seemed more than usually pleased with life. He announced to Jacynth that he had been invited on the yacht to meet several highly-placed men who needed his advice on investing in property deals. Mr. Perandopoulos, Hermione’s father, had introduced them to Mallory and several very profitable arrangements were likely to result.

  “A good place, a yacht sailing some distance from the land, for discussions like this,” he observed.

  “But surely the yacht has radio connections?” queried Jacynth.

  “Naturally, but it’s more difficult to make excuses about seeing someone else, another partner or director, as the case may be. Decisions have to be made on the strength of personal discussion.”

  She wondered what sort of “personal discussions” he might also have had with Hermione. As two or three days went by and there was no mention of Mallory dismissing Jacynth, the latter assumed that he had not listened very attentively to Hermione’s demands for sacking her.

  Then one evening Hermione called, ostensibly to deliver some confidential documents from her father, but stayed to dinner which Caterina served on the covered terrace outside the drawing-room windows.

  Jacynth, who had eaten her own dinner in her accustomed place in her office-sitting-room, was surprised when Caterina came in with a message that Mr. Brendon wanted her to join him on the terrace.

  So this was the crunch! Hermione had renewed her demands and now she was here in the house and Mallory would have no option but to comply.

  Jacynth went slowly to what she regarded as her doom. Hermione was lounging gracefully in a long chair close enough to Mallory’s own for her to stretch out a hand and clasp one of his.

  Mallory rose and pulled up another chair for Jacynth. “Miss Rowan plays the piano,” he said chattily i:o Hermione. Turning towards Jacynth, he asked, “Will you play something for us now?”