Truth and Lies

by Marguerite Valentine

  Nixie smiled, shook her hand. Returning to the furnace-like heat outside, she walked back to her apartment. She now knew more, but she didn’t want to know about Seb and Zanthe being in love. Could that be true?

  A wave of exhaustion passed over her. She lay down on her bed to sleep, but it was impossible. Tortured by images of Seb laughing with Zanthe, she tossed back and forth, until eventually she fell into a fitful sleep. Hours later she was woken from a dream. She was back on Karpathos with Seb. They were in the hills and he was picking fresh figs for her. It had been so real, it took her a minute or two before she was fully awake, and to realise it was a dream. She made herself a coffee and walked down to the harbour to organise a water taxi for the following day. The side streets were thronged with tourists, shopping, talking, and deciding on which tavernas for their next meal. She stopped outside the taverna she’d visited on her first day. The same man she’d seen before was there. He recognised her and greeted her in a friendly way, but she didn’t respond and instead looked through him as if he didn’t exist. She didn’t feel sociable. She sat alone, picking at her food, preoccupied with thoughts of the following day, whether she’d finally meet Seb and if she did, what she might say.

  Nixie stood and watched the water taxi disappear from the bay, then turned to look at the beach. Zogeria was one of the most beautiful coves she’d ever seen. It was gloriously remote and peaceful, horse shoe shaped, edged with large rocks which tumbled into the turquoise deep waters. There were few people and most of these lay under the shade of the fir trees, reading, listening to music, or staring into the distance. Only the occasional raucous chatter of the cicadas disturbed the silence.

  She walked over towards the trees set back from the water, sat down in the shade and considered her next move. Her first priority was to swim, even before she looked for the path through the woods. Her mind constantly played with what she might say or do, when and if she met Seb. She was under no illusions. Even if she did meet him, she wouldn’t say anything about the real purpose as to why she was there. All she wanted him to know at this stage was she was on the island, but what her next step would then be, she had no idea.

  How much did Zanthe know? Would she suspect he was working undercover? Was he deceiving Zanthe, the way he’d deceived her? Was he pretending to be somebody he wasn’t; a militant politico, opposed to global capitalism, and an environmentalist? Whereas, in actual fact, he was a financial mercenary, with no commitments to any organisation, a free agent, motivated by money to spy on whichever organisation he was asked to investigate.

  She glanced towards the water. It was too inviting for her to be brooding on a past relationship. She decisively stood up and, pulling off the white shirt covering her bikini, she ran across the hot sands and plunged into the water. Compared with the heated air of the beach the water was deliciously cool. She swam towards a group of flat rocks she’d seen as the boat had come in and, pulling herself out of the water, lay down on one of them. From there she could see the whole beach.

  It was lunchtime and a few people carrying food and drink, looking as if they’d be there for the day, appeared from amongst the trees and settled in the shade. She remembered what the receptionist had said; there was no taverna. All she had was a bottle of water. So either she’d have to look for a taverna up on the headland or wait for the next water taxi to take her back to the harbour. She stood up, plunged back into the water to cool off and then returned to her place on the rock. The rock felt warm on her belly, but the strength of the sun meant it was safe to lie there for only five minutes. She stared out to sea and tired after her bad night, gradually drifted off into a deep sleep.

  ‘You shouldn’t lie in the sun. It’s bad for you.’

  She opened her eyes. His face was close to hers. He was holding onto a rock, and treading water, and smiling. She gathered her thoughts. Her face flushed, she sat up.

  ‘How did you know it was me?’

  ‘The bikini… how could I forget?’

  ‘It’s been a long time.’

  He pulled himself out of the water and sat by her, his legs dangling in the water.

  ‘So Seb, what are you doing now?’

  ‘I think you know what I’m doing now.’ Nixie was silent. ‘You need to cover your tracks better, Nixie. Or is it Elly?’ He smiled. ‘I knew you were on the island. I knew you were looking for me, and I knew at some point our paths would cross.’ Still she said nothing. ‘So, why are you here? I assume it’s not to get back together again.’

  ‘No. I’ve heard about Zanthe.’

  ‘So you also know it’s a committed relationship.’

  ‘Yes, I’d heard.’

  ‘So, why are you here?’

  ‘I’ll tell you, soon, but not right now.’

  ‘Don’t play games, Nixie… We had something, once, but it’s over. I’m determined… history isn’t going to repeat itself.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘No more lies.’

  ‘Lies? Not sure I’m following you.’

  ‘It means being truthful. I’m with a woman I love, and politically, I’ve changed sides.’

  ‘Can I believe that?’

  ‘I’ve had a lot of time to think. I’ve read widely and I’ve come to the conclusion, I no longer want to be part of this system.’

  ‘So what system is that?’

  ‘The one supporting the privileged few. The one skewed to maintain the status quo. Once I understood how it works, it was simple. I want to fight inequality and global capitalism.’

  ‘Big deal, you’ve learnt the words but it doesn’t ring true.’

  ‘Your prerogative. You taught me a lot, for which I have only gratitude.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Why not? I’ve changed. I thought you’d like to know.’

  ‘If you weren’t with Zanthe, I’d be thinking you want us to get back together.’

  ‘I’m in love with Zanthe.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes really.’

  Nixie slowly smiled. ‘Sweet.’

  ‘You’re jealous.’

  ‘Probably. What of it? I loved you once.’

  ‘So you said, but a long time ago, you told me you were polyamorous. Remember? So, I assumed, wrongly, it seems, that if that was true, jealousy would be an alien emotion.’

  ‘Well, there you go, you learn something new every day.’

  ‘What about you? Are you still with Mike? We were always contenders for your affection.’

  ‘You always came first.’

  ‘My turn to say “really?”’ He stood up and stretched his arms above his head. ‘Well, it’s been good to see you. I have to go back. I told Zanthe I was going for a quick dip. She’ll be waiting. Like to swim with me back to the beach?’

  ‘No, I don’t, but thanks for the offer.’

  He looked at her closely, and said, ‘Well, see you around.’ He slid back down into the water, and hanging on to the rock, looked up at her. ‘You know I’ve always fancied you, don’t you? It was good, wasn’t it? What we had once.’

  She said nothing. She stood up and, choosing the same rock as he’d used, let herself down in the water and said, ‘At some point, I have to meet up with you. It’s about work and it’s important. When can we fix a time?’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘I can’t say. Not now. Give me a time and place.’

  He paused, scrutinising her face. ‘Tomorrow. Lunchtime. There’s a taverna called Aptora, it’s where the ferry comes in. It’s popular with tourists and crowded, so it’s easy to blend in.’

  ‘That’s no good. We could be overheard. I still don’t trust you, whatever you say. You could still be on my case. My apartment’s better. Say tomorrow evening? Nineish? Do you know where it is?’

  ‘I do.’

 
‘Will Zanthe allow you off the hook?’

  ‘Leave it out. She’s not like that. I’ll see you there.’

  He pushed himself off the rock and lay paddling the water on his back, looking across at her. Then switching himself round, he swam rapidly back to the beach. She watched him pick up his towel, wave in her direction, and disappear into the fir trees.

  — 21 —

  Seb was early, but Nixie made no comment, other than greeting him. She led him through to the courtyard. The table had been placed exactly in the centre primarily because when the long shadows of the evening touched the white walls, the fragrance of the surrounding flowers hung heavy in the air, and she liked that. They sat facing each other.

  He glanced round. ‘Very attractive. Where did you find it?’

  ‘It was an advertisement.’

  She looked across at him, wondering what he was expecting of the meeting and whether he’d told Zanthe he was coming to see her. An image of the two of them swimming naked and then lying on the flat rock came into her head. She felt herself flush.

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘Oh, this and that. Nothing much. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Because you look embarrassed.’

  ‘Well, I’m not, I’m just wondering how and what to say.’

  She couldn’t say that for the past hour she’d been pacing back and forth and that she had no idea how the meeting would play out, or how she could ask for information on the girl without revealing that she too, was a double agent. Had he really changed sides, because if so, his response would be an unknown quantity? Would he want to support who he’d now see as the enemy? But whatever side he supported, the proposal she’d been tasked to execute meant, for him, there was little room for manoeuvre.

  He had to come up with the information on the girl, or face the consequences of his assault on Makepeace, and hacking into Langhithe. If all else failed, she was prepared to play the psychological card. She’d refer to the probable impact on his parents when they were told the whistleblower was their son.

  ‘So why have you asked me here? What’s it about?’

  His directness took her aback. ‘Give me a break, Seb. I will tell you, but… it’s a long time since we last met… and it feels a little strange.’ He didn’t respond. He was closely scrutinising her. ‘And don’t stare at me, it’s making me uncomfortable.’ She looked away, aware of the rising background chorus of the cicadas, which competed with the chatter of tourists passing outside.

  ‘My apologies, I was thinking how much a tan suits you.’

  She looked at him, unsmiling. ‘I’m not interested.’

  ‘In what?’

  ‘Your chat-up lines.’ She stood up. ‘It’s hot. I’m going to get a glass of cold, white wine. Like one?’

  ‘Please.’

  She disappeared, returning a few minutes later with an opened bottle and two glasses. She placed them on the table between them, poured out the wine but remained standing a little distance away, nursing her glass, occasionally catching his eye. Right now, she wished she was anywhere, rather than where she was.

  ‘Who else lives here?’ He seemed oblivious to her edginess.

  ‘A couple of artists. They live in the main house. I haven’t seen them yet.’

  ‘So you have the place to yourself.’

  She nodded, took a sip of wine. ‘How did you know I was on the island?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘If you don’t know, I’m not telling you.’

  ‘I’m not in the mood for banter’ She walked over to a climbing plant, pulled away a tendril pushing its way through a window and turned round to face him. ‘I have a gecko in the bathroom.’

  He smiled. ‘Does that bother you?’

  ‘No, I like it… Did you tell Zanthe you’d be coming here?’

  ‘Not in so many words… I just said I had an old friend to see… Look, I don’t want to pressure you, but you said you had a proposition to make. When do you plan to tell me, because, at some point, I have to get back.’ Nixie gave him a long, hard look, but was silent. Seb stood up and walked across to her. ‘What’s so difficult?’

  She tapped the side of her glass with her forefinger, waited for it to ping, which it didn’t and then said, ‘I guess I’m wondering how to tell you, or rather how to ask you.’

  ‘Ask me what?’

  She shrugged. He was standing so close to her she thought he was about to make a pass. It crossed her mind she’d feel better if he did, but she pushed the thought away as quickly as it came.

  ‘Shall I tell you what I think it might be?’ He put his arm round her and pulled her gently towards him, but she jumped away like a scalded cat. ‘Get off me.’

  He backed off. ‘I see. Well, no problem, Nixie.’

  ‘I thought you were in a commited relationship.’

  ‘That’s right. I am.’

  She sighed. ‘You haven’t totally changed.’

  ‘Maybe not, as far as you and I go. We went through a lot together, but leaving that aside, I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll tell you why I think you want to see me, and it’s not about our relationship.’

  ‘Please do.’

  He paused. ‘After we split up, I got in touch with my handler. I had to. He wanted to know what was going on. I told him everything. I said you knew now I worked undercover. He was concerned. Not about me, but for the consequences − its implications for other agents and projects. He was going to liaise with the Met, tell them my cover was blown… He came back to me, a day later.’ He took a step closer and, looking directly at her, said, ‘He had something important to tell me.’

  She guessed what was coming. She waited, still nursing her glass, her gaze inscrutable, her eyes fixed on him.

  ‘I think you know what that is.’ She turned her head away and stared at the vines trailing along the walls. ‘He told me you worked undercover.’

  There was a total silence, except for the the dying chatter of the cicadas and the muffled, excited talk of the tourists passing the apartment.

  ‘I was surprised, and that’s putting it mildly. I was also angry, very angry. I felt betrayed. I’d trusted you. Unfair, irrational, because I’d done the same. But it didn’t last… I knew I’d get over it. You have to. Besides, being away from London and living here, in Greece… has put things in perspective.’

  He walked over to her and put his arm round her shoulders. ‘You look upset…What’s wrong?’

  She said, ‘Is that why you changed sides?’

  ‘Not really. I was thinking, after we’d split up, how much longer could I put up with working undercover? The deception, the lies, watching my step all the time, wondering when there’d be another attempt to kill me. I didn’t want to go back. I’d become sick of it.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘I’d been told I was for the chop. I’d gone AWOL after all, and that’s when I decided to stay on in Greece. It was an easy decision.’

  ‘Why didn’t you go back into finance?’

  ‘I couldn’t stomach it. Finance, the unregulated market – it creates inequality and I’m not talking relatively, I’m talking about absolute poverty. Homelessness, crap education, bad diet, high mortality; scale that up five or ten times in the southern hemisphere and throw in war, for good measure.’

  ‘But it’s never going to change. It’s human nature.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re saying that.’

  ‘I’m a realist.’

  ‘So, does that make me an idealist? What I’m saying is, the rules are fixed to benefit the few. But you know that already…Ironic isn’t it? I was employed to spy on the opposition, but they’re right. Before, I hadn’t connected things. I’d assumed it was inevitable. Then it slowly dawned on me, it’s not at all inevitable. Once I
realised that, I had to leave.’

  ‘So then what?’

  ‘I gave my notice in. I was called for a debrief, but I ignored it. But knowing as much as I do about the security forces, and with my financial background, I knew I could still be useful. The Greek government is in a mess. The IMF and the EU wants a fall guy, and blame and shame is the name of the game. So I moved to Athens. I took up with the opposition and allied myself with Syriza. It’s led by Tsipras and I have the utmost admiration for him.’

  ‘I know very little about Greek politics. Does Zanthe share your views?’

  ‘Yeah, she does. Her family have a history of political involvement.’

  ‘Is that why you were spying on me? For Syriza?’

  ‘What do you think? Put yourself in my position. I knew you were working for the Met. You know and I know the Security Forces work across the European borders.’

  ‘How did you know I was looking for you in Athens?’

  ‘I was tipped off. I was intrigued. There were three possible reasons. I was still useful to the security services, I was wanted for questioning, or it was strictly personal.’

  ‘Was it Kloe and Lydia who tipped you off? Or the receptionist?’

  ‘No, She isn’t an informer. It was a chance conversation she’d had with Zanthe. She said a young Englishwoman had come into the office, on behalf of her parents who were looking for property to renovate. She described you, and I put two and two together.’

  ‘Does Zanthe know?’

  ‘About you? A little’.

  ‘Does that include that I’m here?’

  ‘What’s it matter? Why do you ask?’

  ‘No reason.’

  They were silent for some time. Seb was first to speak. ‘So why are you here? You said you had a proposition to make. Does what I’ve just told you make a difference to that?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘“Not really.” I’m surprised. I thought you might ask me to join the Met and work for them.’

  ‘Well, you’re partly right, but not in the way you probably think.’

  ‘So what is it?’

  She stood up suddenly. ‘It’s almost dark. I’m going to get some candles.’