by Sara Craven
Sighing, she rounded the final bend in the track and halted, staring with disbelief and sudden fear at the small crumpled pile of pink lying on the sandy ground straight ahead of her, with an overturned tricycle beside it.
For a second Joanna remained motionless, then she broke into a run, dropping on her knees beside Eleni.
The little girl’s eyes were closed, she was breathing rapidly and her skin looked sallow. There was a bruise on her forehead, and even Joanna’s untrained eyes could see that one small wrist looked an odd shape.
Her heart sank. Her first-aid experience was non-existent, but she seemed to remember that fractures should be supported.
She threw her head back and yelled Soula’s name as loudly as she could. There was no answer, and after a moment she shouted for her again, adding, ‘Ela etho! Come quickly.’
But there was still no reply.
Shut up in the house, no doubt, Joanna thought bitterly. Smoking and reading those picture magazines of hers. So God knows how long Eleni’s been lying here.
But what on earth was the woman doing, allowing her to come out unsupervised? Because she could see what had happened. The tricycle’s front wheel had hit a hidden root and Eleni had been thrown off.
Well, I’m not leaving her, she told herself with grim resolve. I won’t let her come round and find she’s alone and in pain. I can carry her to the house, where I shall a few things to say to Madam Soula. But first I have to do something about her wrist.
After a brief hesitation she stripped off her halter-neck, and managed to fashion it into a makeshift sling. As she gently moved Eleni’s arm into position, the child moaned faintly and opened bewildered eyes.
‘It’s all right, Eleni mou,’ Joanna said quietly, and stroked the tumbled dark hair as the little girl began to cry. ‘I’ll try not to hurt you, but we need to find help.’
She got to her feet, lifting the child carefully in her arms. It was only about fifty yards to the house, but when they reached it the gate was standing wide open, and the door was also ajar.
Soula must have realised Eleni was missing and gone to search, she told herself, as she deposited the whimpering child on a couch covered by a crocheted blanket, at the side of the room, and surrounded her with cushions.
Her first task was to find a teatowel or something similar and make a proper sling, so that she could retrieve her top. Even in front of Eleni she felt thoroughly self-conscious without it, and she had no wish for Soula to return and find her bared to the waist, as she could well imagine the kind of sniggering contempt she’d have to endure.
As she crossed to the small dresser to look for a towel she noticed that the votive light which burned in front of the icon had been allowed to go out—only to realise in the next instant that the icon itself wasn’t there.
For a moment she hesitated, then made for the flight of steep wooden stairs in the corner. Eleni’s room was tidy enough, but the larger room with the double bed was in complete disarray, its sheets rumpled and one pillow lying on the floor, with yet another overflowing ashtray on the night table.
As Joanna looked around her, wrinkling her nose at the stale atmosphere, she saw that the clothes cupboard was standing open and empty, as were the drawers in the adjoining chest.
My God, Joanna thought, drawing an appalled breath. She’s not out searching at all. She’s—gone. She knew I was coming, so she’s abandoned Eleni and skipped.
And if I hadn’t disobeyed Vassos the child might have been left to lie on the path, alone and injured, with potentially disastrous consequences.
Her nails curled into the palms of her hands. ‘The witch,’ she said aloud, her voice shaking. ‘The evil, disgusting, bloody witch!’
She heard a little wail from the room below, and ran for the stairs.
‘It’s all right, darling,’ she called. ‘I’m coming.’
‘So I see,’ said Vassos.
He stood in the open doorway, dark against the brightness of the sun, his hands on his hips, his face a mask of anger carved from granite. He was wearing dark pants and a white shirt, and his wide silk tie was pulled loose.
Joanna halted at the foot of the stairs, her hands lifting to cover her bare breasts in an instinctive gesture of modesty. As if, she thought with a pang, there was any part of her he had not seen—or touched—or kissed.
She said, ‘Oh, Vassos, I’m so thankful that you’re here.’
‘Are you?’ His mouth curled into a smile that was grim and derisive at the same time. He looked past her at the stairway. ‘Who is up there?’ His tone was politely enquiring.
She stared at him. ‘Are you mad? What are you talking about? There’s no one.’
‘I am expected to believe that?’ He took a step forward. ‘Just as you tried to persuade me you came here each day to visit a child who is nothing to you?’ He shook his head slowly, his eyes going over her. ‘I think not. So, I ask you again, Joanna, who have you just left in the bedroom?’
‘Not a soul. The house is empty. See for yourself, if you want.’ Her voice shook a little. ‘Soula’s left, and taken all her things. I only discovered it when I came back here with Eleni. She was in the grove, you see, and I found her. She’s had an accident and broken her arm, so I had to use my top to make a sling for her,’ she added, glancing down at herself and biting her lip.
‘I saw the icon was missing, and went to check upstairs. I found that Soula had—gone—vanished—and if I hadn’t come today Eleni would have been totally alone, because no one else ever comes here. God knows what might have happened to her. She’s only a baby,’ she went on, her voice cracking. ‘A baby who desperately needs to see a doctor, while you stand there making—ludicrous accusations.’
She saw him turn, as if aware for the first time of the child in her nest of pillows.
He walked over to the couch and bent to look at the small arm in its makeshift support, and Joanna heard him say something quiet and savage under his breath.
‘How did this happen?’ he demanded.
‘She fell off her tricycle. She bumped her head, too.’
‘Yes.’ He straightened, discarding his tie, then stripping off his shirt. He tossed it to Joanna. ‘Cover yourself,’ he directed brusquely.
‘Oh, what does it matter?’
‘It matters to me,’ he said. ‘We have to return to the villa, and I do not choose that any man but myself should see you even half-naked.’
The crisp fabric was still warm from his body, and she was aware of the scent of the cologne he used as she slipped her arms into the sleeves and fumbled the buttons into their holes.
‘What’s going to happen?’ she asked, as Vassos bent and lifted the child into his arms with infinite care.
‘She shall be taken to Thaliki. There is a hospital there. It is small but efficient, and she will receive excellent treatment.’
‘And—afterwards?’ Joanna watched him carry Eleni to the door. Look at her, she begged silently. Oh, my darling, look at her and see what I saw—please.
‘Decisions will have to be made,’ he returned curtly. ‘Also Soula must be found. Wherever she is hiding,’ he added ominously. ‘She may have abandoned her charge, but there is no way that she can have left the island.’
She had to trot to keep up with his long stride. ‘Why did you come here? I thought you were in a meeting.’
‘It ended much sooner than I expected,’ he responded bleakly. ‘And in agreement, which I also did not anticipate. Once my colleagues had departed, I looked for you. When you could not be found, I guessed where you must be.’
‘I had to do it,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You must understand that. And Soula must have known that, too.’
‘It was a risk she had no right to take,’ he said harshly.
After that there was silence between them until they reached the villa, where Andonis met them with an appalled look at the small crying burden in his employer’s arms, then burst into a flood of agitated Greek.
&n
bsp; Vassos listened, his head bent, his mouth hardening.
He turned to Joanna. ‘Soula may have left Pellas after all,’ he said harshly. ‘The caique I use for night fishing has also disappeared, and so, it seems, has Yanni, one of the security men.’ He paused. ‘Did you ever see them together?’
Joanna bit her lip. ‘No, but she was often missing in the afternoons.’
He said something under his breath. ‘Then Hara will tend the child until Stavros returns with the launch and she can be taken to hospital.’ His tone was brusque. ‘There is nothing more for you to do.’
Joanna faced him, chin lifted defiantly. ‘On the contrary, kyrie,’ she said crisply. ‘I shall go to the hospital with her. She’s frightened and in pain, and she needs one familiar face around. Someone who actually cares about her.’ She paused. ‘And—in case you’ve forgotten—her name is Eleni.’
‘This is not your concern—’ he began, but she interrupted him fiercely.
‘So you’ve told me, but I’ve just made it so. I’m going to my room to put on some proper clothes, so bring her there to me, please.’
She walked past Andonis, who looked as if he’d been poleaxed, and made for the stairs, aware that Vassos was staring after her.
In her room, she dragged off his shirt, wrenching open the buttons with such force that she sent several of them skittering across the floor.
‘To hell with it,’ she muttered, sending the shirt to join them. ‘He’ll have a thousand others to take its place.’
She removed her shorts, replacing them with a green dress, full-skirted and short-sleeved, grabbed at random from the wardrobe.
She was dragging a comb through her hair when Vassos knocked abruptly and entered with Eleni, crying loudly and fretfully now in his arms, and an anxious Hara close behind.
‘Stavros has been contacted by radio,’ he said. ‘He will be here very soon.’ He paused. ‘The caique has been seen drifting, perhaps with engine trouble, by some fishermen.’
She said stonily, ‘I wouldn’t care if it had blown up.’ She sat down on the chair by the window. ‘Give Eleni to me, please.’
He said more gently, ‘Let Hara take her, Joanna mou.’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I began this. So I’ll look after her while she’s here. After all, you can’t pretend that anyone here wants her, not when you all did your best to keep us apart.’ She took the sobbing child gently on her lap, looking down at the creased and dirty pink dress.
‘And, whatever you decide for her, kyrie, she’ll need new clothes,’ she added. ‘Normal things, too. Not more of these awful party frocks that Soula picked for her. Because her life’s going to be no party.’
‘Joanna.’ His voice was quiet. ‘Let us talk about this.’
‘And say what? That I shouldn’t have interfered? I think it’s already been said.’
She bent her head. ‘And I suppose I have to agree with you. If I hadn’t—intervened as I did, Soula would never have dared to go off like this and Eleni wouldn’t have been put in danger.’ She paused. ‘Also you wouldn’t have been forced to remember your—your marriage and its unhappiness. Is that what you want to hear?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘But why should you believe me?’ He turned and left the room, signalling to Hara to accompany him.
Joanna leaned back, careful not to jolt Eleni’s injured arm. She felt very tired suddenly, with the beginnings of a headache. But that was nothing compared with the desolation inside her.
I wanted to help, she thought wretchedly, but instead I’ve simply made everything much worse. Because this accident will have to be explained somehow, and that will trigger all the problems that Vassos most wants to avoid.
And now, she realised, to add to her feelings of guilt, the child’s warm body was curling trustingly into hers, and her sobs were beginning to subside a little.
‘Try and sleep, darling,’ Joanna said softly as Eleni’s thumb stole to her mouth and her eyelids drooped. ‘The doctor will stop your poor arm aching very soon.’ And quietly she began to sing, ‘"There were ten green bottles, hanging on the wall …"’
She was over halfway through the song, deliberately allowing her voice to sink lower, watching Eleni’s small face relax and her breathing steady and deepen, when she felt her own skin begin to tingle as if she was being watched. Knowing that there was only one person in the world who could trigger that particular reaction.
But when, at last, she ventured to glance towards the doorway it was empty. I must have been imagining things, she told herself with an inward sigh. Or just indulging in some wishful thinking.
And her song was finished, and she was sitting cradling the sleeping child, prey to her unhappy thoughts, well before Hara came to tell her that Stavros and the launch had returned and it was time to go.
The hospital on Thaliki might not be large, but Joanna saw at once that it was scrupulously clean and efficiently run, as Vassos had said.
Dr Deroulos, who came to take charge of Eleni, was a short man, his hair and beard grizzled, his eyes calm and kind, as Joanna haltingly explained there had been an accident with a tricycle.
‘These things happen with small children,’ was his comment. He gave Joanna a thoughtful look. ‘And you, thespinis? Who are you?’
She said quietly, ‘I’m Eleni’s temporary nanny,’ and did not look at Vassos, standing beside her like a statue.
Eleni was borne away to have her arm set and plastered, and to be checked for any signs of concussion after the bump on her head.
Joanna and Vassos retired to a small, square waiting room, silently taking chairs on its opposite sides. After a while, Joanna ventured to steal a look at him from under her lashes, and saw that his face was set like stone, and that he was staring into space with eyes that seemed to see nothing.
After half an hour had passed, with nothing being said on either side, they were joined by Stavros. Vassos listened to his murmured words, then rose, looking across at Joanna.
‘The police have boarded the caique and arrested Yanni and Soula,’ he said brusquely. ‘I am required to help deal with this matter, and I must also arrange for Kostas, who goes fishing with me at night to collect the boat. There will be statements. Maybe a question of charges.’ He paused. ‘Will you be all right—alone here?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Of course.’
And being alone is something I shall have to get used to.
She paused. ‘Did you say you go fishing at night?’
He paused at the door, brows lifting. ‘Sometimes,’ he said. ‘If I find I cannot sleep. Why do you ask?’
‘It just seems—an odd thing to do,’ Joanna returned, thinking of all the times his footsteps had passed her door in the darkness.
‘But then,’ he said softly. ‘So many other strange things seem to be happening in my life. Herete andio, Joanna.’ And he went.
Over an hour had passed before Dr Deroulos returned with the news that the fracture had been reduced, the bump on Eleni’s head was just what it seemed and nothing more serious, and the little girl would soon recover from the anaesthetic she’d been given while her arm received attention.
‘Oh, thank heavens.’ Joanna sank back on her chair. ‘I’ve been so worried.’
‘You must not blame yourself, thespinis,’ he told her kindly. ‘And nor, I am sure, does Kyrios Gordanis. A healthy child must be allowed to run and play. And little Eleni, in spite of her unpromising beginning, is now fit and well. Her father must rejoice to see it.’ He glanced round. ‘He has gone somewhere?’
‘To the police station, I think,’ Joanna said awkwardly. ‘There’s been a—problem with the previous nanny.’
‘Po, po, po, he should marry again,’ the doctor said. ‘Provide his daughter with a mother’s care. After all a young, virile man cannot be expected to grieve for ever.’ He frowned a little. ‘I think it haunts him still that he was not present at the birth or at his wife’s side when she so sadly died. But with a premature child li
ke Eleni these things are not always possible to arrange. I just thank the good God that, after a struggle, we were able to save her for him, so he did not have a double tragedy to bear.’
Joanna stared at him. ‘You say Eleni was—premature?’ She shook her head. ‘I—I didn’t know that.’ She hesitated. ‘How early was she?’
‘Barely seven months.’ He sighed. ‘And so tiny—so fragile. For days she hovered between life and death.’
Joanna said urgently, ‘Did Vassos—Kyrios Gordanis, I mean—know this? How delicate Eleni was—and why?’
‘He was in shock after the death of Kyria Ariadne, thespinis. Like a man living through a nightmare. My colleague Dr Christaphis decided it would be wrong to burden him with the possibility of further sadness.’
He smiled suddenly. ‘And it did not happen. The Holy Virgin had the child in her protection and she was spared, to become healthy and happy.’ He spread his hands. ‘So what was said or not said at the time surely cannot matter. Not now. Not any more.’
‘On the contrary,’ Joanna said softly, her heart lifting. ‘I think it could matter very much, Dr Deroulos. Very much indeed.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT WAS another hour before Vassos returned.
Joanna had spent the time on tenterhooks, mentally rehearsing what she wanted to say. What he so desperately needed to know.
But when he finally appeared in the waiting room doorway, she took one look at his exhausted eyes, and the greyish tinge to his skin as he halted, putting out a hand as if to steady himself against the doorframe, then jumped to her feet, spilling the remains of the coffee they’d brought her down her skirt.
All the careful words were forgotten. She said, ‘Vassos—about Eleni. There’s something I must tell you.’
He lifted a silencing finger. ‘I already know what you are going to say, Joanna. I have heard the whole story from Soula Karadis, no doubt in the vain hope that the truth would make me grateful enough to spare her.’
