by Anne Mather
She was seated between Nikos and Jane, with Andrea on Jane’s other side. Madame Stavros occupied one end of the table, while Alexander Stavros himself occupied the other with Dahlia Sharef on his left hand. As Dallas was much farther down the table, towards the opposite end in fact, she felt rather grateful, for it obliterated any necessity to attempt to avoid his gaze, which she was aware lingered on her rather sardonically, as though deliberately trying to infuriate her. She supposed her attitude towards him in England had been less than polite, but there was something about him which made her want to rebel, to fight him every inch of the way. She couldn’t understand it, but it was there nevertheless.
The meal was long, and the dishes various, but Dallas’s stomach
was too disturbed to appreciate such rich and spicy food. The
grilled lobster was delicious, but she was not so keen on moussaka, which turned out to be layers of mincemeat and sliced aubergines cooked in a creamy sauce, which was quite tasty but too much for her. The cheese at the end of the meal was excellent, as were the dishes of grapes and figs which other members of the party ate indiscriminately. She tasted retsina, the most popular Greek wine, which was a little bitter for her taste. She was greatly relieved when the meal was over, and they could rise from the table and escape to the terrace for some fresh air.
The hall had been cleared, and the younger members of the group had set a record-player going. Several cars roared into the drive about this time, and Nikos said that they were friends of Natalia and Maria. It was only then that Dallas realised that neither Natalia nor Maria had been present for dinner. Yet another hurdle to surmount, thought Dallas dejectedly.
Jane was dancing with Andrea, if it could be called dancing, when Nikos escorted Dallas to the archway which led into the hall. The music was strictly ‘pop’ and Dallas recognised the current top ten quite easily. Jane seemed to be enjoying herself, and she was glad. Surely Natalia would not cause more bother tonight?
She became aware of someone at the other side of her, and she looked up into Alexander Stavros’s enigmatic eyes. He was alone, Dahlia Sharef shaken off, and quite relaxed and at his ease.
‘You see,’ he said lightly, ‘we are not entirely behind the times. We do keep up to date with the current music trends, and I see that Jane is a perfect match for Andrea’s gyrating war-dance.’
Dallas smiled, and said: ‘Do you dance, Mr. Stavros?’
‘Like that?’ he shrugged. ‘If I had to, I expect I should survive. However, that is not my intention at the moment. ’
He looked down. ‘Can you ... er ... do the Watusi, or whatever-that is meant to be?’
Nikos laughed. ‘Can you, Dallas?’
Dallas shrugged. ‘Well, I should be able to. It’s not too difficult.’ She looked recklessly at Nikos. ‘Shall we try?’ Alexander Stavros’s fingers curved round her upper arm. ‘I think not,’ he murmured softly. ‘I want to talk to you. Excuse us, Nikos. This is business, you understand?’
Nikos grimaced, and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets just as Natalia, looking very attractive in a scarlet silk trouser suit, came into the room at the head of a group of young people, boys and girls. She looked round speculatively, her eyes resting on Jane derisively, and then she said:
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know our “guests” would still be here. We skipped dinner deliberately, but it looks as though we’re still a little early!’
‘Natalia! ’ Her mother's voice was shocked in the silence. Alexander Stavros released Dallas’s arm, and walked slowly across the floor to where his sister stood, defiantly staring at him.
‘Well, Natalia,’ he said, in a cold, clear voice, ‘are you such a small person that it is necessary to shout for us all to hear you? Your obvious lack of politeness is of no importance to me; I am used to such displays of childish temperament. Why don’t you stamp your feet, or throw a tantrum, like you used to do when you could not get your own way? Or perhaps you would like to have a fight with Jane, as she is apparently your objective in this display of foolishness. Which is it to be? Or would you rather I put you over my knee here and now, and administered the kind of punishment you deserve in front of your friends?’ Natalia’s cheeks turned pink, then red, and finally paled to whiteness. She looked up at her brother with trembling lips.
‘How can you?’ she gasped, her voice breaking. ‘How can you treat me like this, when it is you for whom I do it?’
‘How so?’ Stavros’s voice was clipped;
‘Paris was your son! ’ Natalia’s tone was fevered.
‘You think you need to remind me of this?’ he snapped angrily. ‘You think I need your idiotic stupidity to remind me that my son is dead!’
‘No, Alex. I thought ...’ Her voice trailed away.
‘May I remind you that this girl you seek to humiliate is at this moment carrying a child which can only be Paris’s! Is this anybody’s fault? Is it hers? Do you think she wants the child? Then is it Paris’s? Who knows? But, Natalia, I want no more of your games, is this understood? I will not have it, do you hear? My involvement in this is as total as yours, more so! So let me be the judge of who is the villain and who the victim!’
His icy tones penetrated every corner of the room. The record player was for the moment silent, and Dallas felt as though every nerve in her body was stretched to infinity.
Alexander Stavros turned away from Natalia, and then glanced back. ‘Do not imagine I will forget this episode, Natalia. And do not think you can escape by disappearing again. You will stay, and act naturally. Correct?’
‘Yes, Alex.’ Natalia was subdued, and Dallas was frankly amazed. Only someone she admired tremendously could have quelled Natalia in that mood, and it was obvious she worshipped her eldest brother as her eyes followed him soulfully across the floor.
As though at an unseen signal, the record-player was restarted and the group on the dance floor enlarged considerably. Alexander Stavros made his way back to Dallas’s side, and said: ‘Now, come. I want to speak with you.’ Dallas glanced helplessly at Nikos, hoping he would come, too, but he merely smiled encouragingly and told her he would see her later.
Stavros led the way down a panelled corridor to double white doors at the far end which opened into a large comfortable room which seemed to be a study-cum-library, with booklined walls, and deep leather chairs and couches. The colours were all blues and greens with muted shades of yellow in the curtains. Alexander Stavros closed the doors firmly, drew the heavy drapes across the windows and lit several lamps about the room for illumination. It was a very restful atmosphere here, and Dallas felt herself relax almost unconsciously.
He indicated that she should sit on a low green leather couch, and then walked across to a table on which was a tray of drinks of
every kind.
‘What will you have?’ he asked, pouring himself a stiff whisky.
Dallas shook her head. ‘Nothing, thank you,’ she declined.
Ignoring her refusal, he poured her a generous measure of brandy and added a little soda, and then crossing to the couch seated himself beside her, his eyes amused as she refused the glass.
‘I insist,’ he said, in a voice soft yet insistent, and with some chagrin she accepted the brandy and sipped it cautiously. It was delicious, though, and she lay back with her drink allowing herself the pleasure of just looking at him. Swallowing most of his drink, he unfastened the top button of his shirt and pulled the knot of his tie loose. Then, his eyes intent upon her, he said:
‘I hear from Stephanos that there was some trouble before you left. What was all that about?’
‘You know perfectly well what it was all about,’ retorted Dallas, uneasily aware of his almost primitive physical attraction.
‘Tell me,’ he said insistently, and Dallas compressed her lips and accepted the cigarette he offered her, glad of something to do with her hands. She wondered how he could verbally slay his sister one minute and yet appear so lazily relaxed the next. There was only one
solution; he was not relaxed at all, but merely presenting a lazy facade, like a tiger who is just waiting to pounce on its next victim. Unconsciously, she moved slightly away from him along the wide couch, and by so doing drew his attention to her again.
‘Well?’ he said mockingly. ‘I’m waiting to hear what happened. ’
Dallas sighed. ‘You told Charles that we would be going with you regardless of whether he changed his opinions or not.’
‘Yes, I admit to that.’
Dallas stared at him angrily. ‘But why? Surely you can see we don’t fit in here. Your mother doesn’t want us, Natalia isn’t even polite; we would have been much better just staying in England. Charles was naturally shocked at first, but that doesn’t mean ... ’ Her voice trailed away. ‘What’s the use? You never take any
notice of our feelings anyway.’
Alexander Stavros’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is that so?’ he said coolly. ‘And what might your feelings be? That you would rather stay in England with that apology for a man called Charles Jennings?’
‘You have no right to criticise Charles.’ Dallas was fuming. ‘At least he can only love one woman at a time!’
As soon as she said the words Dallas regretted them. Alexander Stavros looked absolutely furious. He drew hard on the cheroot he was holding and then stood up restlessly, as though unable to trust himself so near to her.
‘No one speaks to me like that,’ he bit out, his dark eyes blazing with fire in their depths.
Dallas took a deep breath. ‘Then perhaps they ought to.’
Alexander Stavros studied her deliberately for a few moments, and then he looked away, crossing to the drinks table to pour himself another drink. When he came back he had control of himself again.
‘Let it be known,’ he said icily, ‘I love no one, no woman, that is, in such a way as to make her indispensable to me. Is that understood? My life is my own to do with as I choose.’ He smiled sardonically. ‘However, as you have noticed, I do have a small experience of women, and what I know of them is scarcely appealing. But I would be the first to admit that women have their uses, and I use them.’
Dallas’s cheeks burned uncomfortably. She would never be able to win an argument with him; his method of attack was wholly devastating. As for his remarks about having a small experience of women, she doubted whether this adjective was sweeping enough. He seemed to know far too much about her sex.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ she asked, trying to remain calm.
‘You started it,’ he reminded her smoothly.
‘Only indirectly. Anyway, what I said is true. We’re not wanted here, and there are still several months to go. It will be awful!’
Alexander Stavros swallowed his second drink easily, and then regarded the empty glass in his hand a trifle cynically, Dallas thought.
Then he looked at her, and her pulse quickened uncontrollably. Those dark eyes of his were too piercing.
‘I must confess,’ he murmured, ‘you interest me as no woman has interested me for a very long time.’ Dallas pressed a nervous hand to her throat, and he smiled. ‘I think it is your completely unrealistic attitude,’ he went on. ‘After all, you must have ascertained the possibilities available here by now, and yet you still want to leave. I can’t quite understand that. Doesn’t money interest you at all?’
Dallas ran a tongue over her dry lips. ‘ I . . . I only need money to live,’ she replied quickly. ‘Money, as such, as a means to complete wealth and idleness doesn’t appeal to me.’
‘Amazing,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘However, there is yet time for you to change your mind. I dare say your sister is less ... shall we say ... naive than you are.’
Dallas rose to her feet, unwilling to continue this conversation any longer, but he said, ‘Sit down, I haven’t finished yet. I want to tell you about the occupation I have arranged for you to fill in your time.’
Dallas stared at him. ‘A job!’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh!’
‘Aren’t you interested now?’
‘Of course. It’s just I ... well, I forgot,’ she finished lamely.
He looked sardonic, and then turned away to the drinks table again. Dallas watched him pour himself another drink and glanced at her own glass. She had hardly finished her first and this would be his third drink. He saw her eyes, and sighed. ‘I suppose now you think I drink too much,’ he remarked, an amused expression in his eyes. ‘Go on, say it. I’m sure you want to.’
Dallas shook her head. ‘It’s no concern of mine.’
‘No, it’s not. But I must confess to drinking more these last few minutes than I usually do. Put it down to the exhilaration of your company, Dallas.’
It was the first time he had used her name this evening, and as usual she liked the way he said it, with a slightly foreign inflection.
‘You’re mocking me,’ she said, bending her head and sipping her own drink.
He shrugged. ‘Only because you seem to have forgotten how to relax and enjoy life. You have become, how shall I put it, older than your years. Do you not feel this?’
She stiffened. Those were almost the words Jane had used, and hearing them from him, who could not possibly know her as well as Jane disturbed her. Was it so obvious? Did she unconsciously act more like Jane’s mother than her sister? It was an unpleasant comparison.
‘I expect my life has been singularly more responsible than yours,’ she retorted irritatedly.
‘You think so? When I have the lives of several thousand men in my control?’
‘You have managers, directors who can be delegated your duties.’
‘I suppose I have. Nevertheless, delegation of duty is not one of my vices. I prefer to know a little of what is going on if, as you say, I do not always find it necessary to supervise. Anyway, enough of this. We are digressing. The job I have in mind for you should suit you very well. My brother Paul, who is married and lives further round the coast from here, has two small daughters, Eloise and Estelle. They are six, and require tuition before attending a ... what you would call ... boarding-school, or academy. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Perfectly,’ Dallas nodded. ‘Do they really need a governess?’
‘Yes, really. Paul’s wife, Minerva has been advocating such a thing for over a year now, but Paul has always said they were too young. You will have gathered they are twins, and quite mischievous in their own way. They speak English, of course. All my family are reasonably well educated in this direction, but now they require more than games; they need reading tuition, and minor teaching in mathematics and writing. Could you handle this?’
‘Naturally.’ Dallas relaxed a little. After teaching a class of over forty eight-year-olds, two six-year-olds did not present many problems.
‘Good, then it is settled. Tomorrow I will take you to meet your new charges. It will have to be in the afternoon, as I have plans for the morning which I am unable to break. ’
Dallas rose to her feet again. ‘Is that all, then? May I go now?’
He shrugged. ‘If you want to.’
Dallas looked at him awkwardly. ‘What am I supposed to glean from that remark?’ she asked, unable to prevent herself. ‘Am I free to go, or am I not?’
He half smiled and finished his drink. ‘I don’t know. Maybe it amuses me to talk with you. It’s refreshing to find someone who doesn’t hang on my every word. You’d never do that, would you, Dallas?’
His voice was deep, and a trifle husky, and Dallas felt a trembling feeling assail her lower limbs. With determined effort she made for the door.
‘No,’ she said, turning the handle, with a strange feeling of reluctance. ‘No, I wouldn’t do that.’ Then she slipped outside and closed the door behind her.
Only then did she breathe the deep breath she seemed to have been holding for some considerable time. She felt exhausted, both physically and mentally. Verbal sparring with Alexander Stavros might be very stimulating, but it could also be very tiring.
She walked slowly
back along the corridor to the hall and came upon Paula Stavros talking to Vyria Sharef. They were seated on a chest, sipping some kind of wine, but Paula rose as Dallas approached, and said:
‘Hello, Miss Collins. You are looking tired. Has this day been a very tiring one for you?’ She smiled. ‘Or has my brother
been throwing his weight around again?’
Dallas had to smile in return. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘call me Dallas. If you call both of us Miss Collins, we shan’t know who you’re talking to.’
‘Very well, Dallas. Naturally you will call me Paula, also.’ She smiled down at Vyria. ‘Will you excuse us, Vyria? I want to tell Dallas about the sport here.’
Vyria nodded her dark head politely, smiling, although the smile did not quite reach her eyes. Paula slid an arm through Dallas’s and drew her across the hall and out on to the terrace overlooking the floodlit swimming pool.
‘Sometimes we swim at night,’ said Paula, indicating the pool. ‘We used to have bathing parties at one time, but we have not had any recently. Do you swim? Or water-ski?’
‘I swim,’ replied Dallas, ‘but I’ve never tried water-skiing. Is it fun?’
‘Marvellous fun,’ exclaimed Paula. ‘You must learn. My boyfriend Georges is an expert. He will be here later in the week, and he will teach you if I ask him. Would you like that?’
Dallas thought of the contrasting natures of the two Stavros girls she had met. Paula seemed so calm and friendly, while Natalia was all fire and passion. Which of them was most like Alexander Stavros? She had the feeling that despite his controlled exterior, Alexander was more likely to be like Natalia, for there was fire in his eyes, and she was convinced he was not an indifferent lover. Her face turned pink in the shadow of the terrace, and she was glad Paula could not read her thoughts. To imagine Alexander Stavros making love, making love to her, perhaps; to feel those hard brown hands sliding over her flesh, to experience the demanding pressure of his mouth against hers, to be able to slide her arms around his neck; she brought herself up short. Oh, God, she thought, feeling nauseated suddenly, I’m not like that; I don’t care about him; I would hate to be another of his women! Paula, completely unaware of Dallas’s inner torment, turned to her.
