When at last the suitcases came through, Petra found hers easily and made her way out through the customs hall. Nobody stopped her and all at once she was in the general concourse, where a crowd of people awaited the passengers.
She scanned the group quickly and felt herself droop with disappointment. Nicholas wasn't there. Tall as he was, he would have over-topped most of the people around him, clearly visible amongst the rest.
For a moment, Petra paused uncertainly, wondering what to do, and she was just deciding to see if there was a message for her at the airline desk when she saw a face she recognised. Nicholas hadn't come to meet her, but Diana Hill, one of her students, had.
She slid out of the crowd and stepped in front of Petra. "Hello, Miss Hinton," she said cheerfully. "Old Nick says he's sorry he couldn't meet you himself, but it's difficult for him to leave the site."
A little taken aback at this reception Petra said faintly, "Old Nick?"
Diana giggled. "Prof. Romilly. It's what they call him on the site. Very appropriate, actually. He can be a bit of a devil. Workwise I mean. He's an absolute stickler for detail, particularly in the recording and drawing of each layer, but he does take the trouble to explain as well. David Horton, one of the supervisors, says he's one of the best directors there are, so we're very lucky. Shall we go?"
A little bemused at this sudden burst of information, Petra let Diana take her suitcase and followed her out of the airport and into a taxi.
"Piraeus," Diana directed the driver and they were soon speeding through the outskirts of Athens. "We weren't sure you'd be on that flight," said Diana settling back, "but Old Nick said to wait for the next one from London if you weren't."
Petra, who was calmer now that the disappointment at finding Diana rather than Nicholas had lessened, said, "It was very good of you to come all the way just to find me. I could have got to Thessos by myself, you know."
"Oh, I know," said Diana airily, "but I didn't mind. Actually," she confided, "I was glad to come. It's back-breaking work out there in the sun."
"You're very brown," said Petra looking at the girl's healthy suntanned face. "You make me feel disgustingly white."
"You'll be brown enough after a few days bending with your trowel all day," promised Diana. "That is if you've come to work on the site."
"Of course I have," said Petra quickly, wondering what Nicholas had told them.
"We're camping just near by," said Diana. "It's such a perfect place. Do you know there are no cars on the island? It's too small. Everyone uses bikes or rides donkeys."
They drove along the marina at Piraeus and Diana pointed out the yachts lying alongside the quay and riding at moorings in the bay.
"Gin palaces," she said, "for the rich and famous. I'm afraid the boat we take leaves a lot to be desired. It's, well, it's just so Greek. You'll see what I mean."
She paid off the taxi and led Petra through the confused noise on the dockside to a small vessel making ready to sail. It was much as Petra had imagined, small, dirty and salt-caked, not much more than an old and battered fishing-boat, converted to take passengers. One quick glance into the cramped interior passenger accommodation decided them to settle for a place in the fresh air on deck.
They found an empty corner by the rail at the stern and Petra staked their claim while Diana went in search of chairs. She found none unoccupied, so they simply sat on the deck, their backs against a locker and waited for the boat to sail. The evening sun, still hot and bright, streamed down on to them, and Petra closed her eyes, letting its warmth surround her, sink into her, so that she began to relax even on the uncomfortably hard deck.
'Well, I'm here,' she thought, 'and soon I'll be on Thessos with Nicholas. Why did he ask me to come? Why have I come?' The answer to the second question was easy, but to find the answer to the first she must still wait.
As the boat chugged out of the harbour into the Aegean Sea, Petra and Diana stood at the rail watching the receding shore. A faint breeze ruffled their hair and the sun, slowly slipping towards the horizon in a blaze of red and gold, warmed their faces and tinged their cheeks with pink.
Diana had some food in her bag and they picnicked on the deck before huddling together to doze the night away.
The journey to Thessos took several hours and Petra awoke to find the dawn rising out of the sea, golden, silver and rose against a buttermilk sky. She stood at the rail gazing in wonder at the miraculous colours before her, while the darkness faded behind her.
Diana joined her and suddenly pointing out across the water said, "There's Thessos."
Petra screwed her eyes against the brilliance of the morning and saw the dark hump of an island silhouetted against the dawn, an island floating darkly in the gold and silver setting of the sea.
The sky continued to lighten as they stood and watched and from the dark outline emerged the details of the island, no longer in shadow. As Diana had said, Thessos was very small. A fishing village clung to one end, looking for all the world as if it might up-end the land and sink into the sea. Its white sun-baked houses climbed the rocky hillside above the harbour, watching out across the sea for the return of its fishermen.
A jutting harbour wall protected the shore from the winter seas, but now, basking in the hot sunshine, it did no more than divide one smooth patch of water from another. The boat slowed as it neared the harbour and manoeuvred round the protecting wall to lie alongside the quay.
Petra was surprised at the number of passengers who left the boat, but Diana told her they would almost all be back aboard when it sailed on in about an hour's time.
"They come ashore and visit the street market, and then go on somewhere bigger to stay. Very few people actually stay here, it's quite unspoilt so far. I suppose in time…" Her voice trailed off as she looked across the harbour. Then she said briskly, "Old Nick says there's a tent you can have out at the site or there's a room free in the town if you'd rather." Diana watched Petra's face as she spoke and added, "Most of us are out at the site; it's marvellous to sleep out under the stars."
"I'll take the tent," said Petra decisively; being away from the site in the town somewhere was not at all in line with her plans.
Diana grinned. "Right, well let's get out there."
In the shade of a fig tree in the dusty square beyond the harbour, Diana found a donkey cart and swinging Petra's case into it, had its sleepy driver take them out to the site.
It was a bumpy, twisting ride. The road was little more than a track, hard-baked and dusty and very uneven. It wound away from the village through a large olive grove, where the gnarled and twisted trees fluttered silvery leaves in the sea breeze, and then up the hillside parallel with the shore for a mile before winding down again to a flat plateau, a patchwork of rock and stones, dried grasses and scrubby bushes. At the far end was more sea, smooth and shining blue and between the two were the excavations of the site.
The site itself was fenced off with a single strand of wire slung between posts. Within the fence were some wooden huts—the site offices, Diana told Petra, where the records were made and the artefacts stored. Beyond these the land sloped down to the sea and there were some tall trees and a patch of dusty grass, and the tents of the work force.
"Old Nick'll be in there—" she added, pointing to the end hut—"that's his lair. If you need any help with your tent or anything just give a call, Mark and Sarah and I'll be more than pleased to give you a hand."
Petra stood watching the girl run towards the encampment in the trees for a moment and then turned back to the site. The sky arched, a cloudless blue, above her, as she stared across the excavations. Groups were working carefully in separate places, removing soil with trowels and sifting it into barrows. There were pegs marking out the horizontal levels and plastic tags of different colours labelling the layers.
"I'm glad you came."
Nicholas had approached her from behind and the sound of his deep voice made her start. Suddenly shy, "Nicholas!" was all
she could say. She looked up at his face, tanned dark brown by the sun, and smiled unsteadily as her heart turned somersaults.
"Did you have a good trip? Diana found you all right?" Nicholas spoke easily and naturally as he picked up her case. There was no constraint in his manner; no awkwardness at the memories which must have been in his mind, as they were in Petra's.
Petra, determined to match his calm, said, "Yes, thank you." She wanted to ask why he'd sent the ticket, to know what had prompted him, but a warning voice inside her cautioned her to wait until the time was right. So she said, "Isn't this the most glorious place? It's a paradise."
Nicholas agreed. "Come on, let's dump your case in the office and I'll show you round."
He led her round the site, pausing at each group to explain what it was doing. There were trays laid out and marked with coloured labels which corresponded with the layer labels and from several of these Nicholas lifted items and studied them for a moment. There were questions from the supervisor of each group too and this made their progress leisurely.
At last they reached the huts again and Nicholas showed her where the artefacts and other remains were taken from their trays and placed in polythene bags and labelled. In another hut were two women indexing, filing and cross referencing the accumulating information so that should Nicholas need to know anything about any particular area of the work, the information so far collected could be retrieved with ease.
In the last hut, Nicholas introduced Petra to the site supervisor, his second-in-command, and at Petra's request, arranged for her to join with the diggers next day.
"I'll get some of the lads to put up your tent," Nicholas said when they were outside in the sun once more. "We all eat together usually. Jane's in charge of the cooking. You could probably help her today if you want to be useful." He led her off the site and across to the encampment, carrying her case for her.
The camp was arranged like a small tent village, the tents themselves dotted around under the trees and a rough open circle of grass in the middle.
Nicholas left Petra with Jane and with a brief wave of his hand returned to the site.
It was easy to slip into the routine of the camp. Breakfast was always early, to allow them to work several hours before the heat of the day forced them into the shade. The mid-day meal was taken and then most people had a siesta, or swam from the little beach below the camp. Work started again later in the afternoon and finished as twilight stole across the island. If Petra hadn't been so tense, it would have been idyllic.
Chapter Ten
After that first tour of the excavations, Petra didn't see Nicholas alone again. Whenever he was near her, so were several other people, either in the camp or on the site. He didn't exactly avoid her, but he made no effort to detach her from the crowd and so there was no chance of private conversation between them.
Petra worked with her group every day, digging and sifting, or harrowing away the soil. The sun streamed down without respite and she was soon as brown as everyone else, while her hair, always fair, was bleached almost white. It was hard, back-breaking work as promised, but she found it fascinating. Soaked by the sun, and working hard, Petra's appetite increased enormously. When she joined the group for meals she did more than justice to Jane's cooking, and she acquired the same healthy glow she had noticed on Diana at the airport.
She enjoyed being part of the group, but she needed time alone as well. When most of the others were dozing after lunch, she often braved the heat of the afternoon and set off to explore the island, following the narrow tracks worn bare by the numerous goats which wandered the hills searching out the scant pasture. These were herded by the village boys who grinned at her cheekily as she passed, and watching them Petra felt they could have been the same boys who had once inhabited the settlement now being excavated. Time had stood still on Thessos and though the twentieth century had arrived in the form of culture-seeking tourists and bicycles, it was a mere veneer laid on the old way of life.
Nicholas was usually busy in his 'lair' at that time of day, and made no effort to join Petra's explorations. She began to wonder if she would ever see him alone, and several times was tempted to try and speak to him, but she feared a rebuff and continued to hold her peace. The time must come. If it hadn't been for her uncertainty about Nicholas she would have been utterly happy, but at the back of her mind nagged the questions, 'Why did he ask me to come and then ignore me?' and even more, 'Why does he think I came?'
On the following Saturday, Diana called to Petra, "We're all going into the village this evening. They usually end up dancing in the square. It's great fun. Are you coming?"
"Why not?" answered Petra. "How do we get there?"
"On bikes," the girl replied. "There are several about, I'll get one for you."
It was an even bumpier journey on a bicycle than it had been in the donkey cart, and extremely hard work pedalling up the hill, but at last they made it and cruised down, laughing, into the village.
It was the hour of the promenade, and the village was alive with people. The taverna in the square was overflowing and the tables outside were crowded. Petra and her students, all of whom now regarded her as just Petra, had a drink together and then she told them she was going to explore the town.
The tiny shops were still open, and Petra wandered in and out, pushing her way through beaded curtains to their cool dark interiors. There were the usual tourist souvenirs, onyx and carved olive wood, shawls, and embroidered skirts. Petra promised to buy herself one of the shawls before she went home, but for now she was content to drift in and out of the shops without making any purchases.
At last she returned to the square, her eyes searching the crowds for the others. There was music now, fiddles and a zither were being played and some people were dancing already. It was hopeless to spot her own friends, with so many people milling about. Petra decided to stay put at a table outside the taverna and wait for them to find her.
As she sipped a cool beer, she was suddenly aware of someone near her, and turning she found Nicholas standing watching her. He came over and said, "May I join you?"
Petra, used by now to the reaction of her heart when she saw him unexpectedly, said as calmly as she could, "Yes. Please do."
He sat down, his smile gleaming white in the dark tan of his face. "Did you come alone?" he asked.
Petra shook her head. "No, with Diana, Sarah and Mark. But I explored a bit by myself and I seem to have lost them."
"Will you come with me for a moment?" said Nicholas suddenly.
"Of course." Petra felt the excitement building up inside her. Now at last they would be alone and perhaps… But she dared not put her hopes into words, even to herself.
Nicholas took her arm and led her away from the square into the warm darkness of the steep and twisting streets beyond. Firmly he held her as he guided her between the houses, winding their way up the hillside. Indeed some of the streets were so steep they turned into flights of broad, shallow steps. There was very little light, for most of the windows of the houses were shuttered and the moon hadn't yet risen. Suddenly they emerged from an alley and Petra found herself clear of the houses, high above the village, with just one large white house in front of them, surrounded by a thick stone wall.
The village was spread below them, its white houses gleaming faintly in the darkness, pinpricks of light dotted about like yellow stars. Far beyond was the glimmer of the sea, where the moon crept over the horizon.
A painted door was set in the garden wall beside them and Nicholas lifted the latch.
"In here," he said and pushed the gate wide for Petra to enter. She stepped through and found herself in a quiet walled garden. A lantern hanging from the corner of the house beside it gave a dull yellow glow. Somewhere there was the splashing of water, a fountain perhaps, and everywhere was the heavy fragrance of the flowers, jasmine, bougainvillaea and many Petra couldn't recognise, overflowing from their tubs and flower beds and climbing the walls of t
he house.
"What a perfect place," said Petra softly as the quiet embraced her. Far away she could hear the music from the square, but it belonged to a different world. Time stood still in this garden, it was apart from the world, secluded and still.
"It belongs to a friend of mine," replied Nicholas. "I often come here when I need to be alone." He led her to a seat beneath a twisted fig tree and they sat together allowing the peace to wash over them, enfold them and cut them off from the world.
'It must be now,' Petra thought. 'This is the moment we've both been waiting for.' But she didn't speak, for her heart was so full that she couldn't begin. Instead she looked up at him, his face shadowed in the half-light of the lantern and found herself trembling at the expression she saw in his eyes.
Nicholas had little use for words either and with one hoarse whisper of "Petra!" he gathered her into his arms, turning her so she was cradled against him, and began to kiss her, his mouth fierce and demanding as it took hers. As before Petra felt her own passion rising to match his as he strained her to him, her breasts crushed against his chest, the fingers of one hand tangled in her hair, those of the other pressing her body to his.
Returning kiss for kiss she clung to him, afraid that this reality might turn out to be another of the dreams of him which haunted her.
At last he raised his head, and while still holding her close looked deep into her eyes. Suddenly shy at what he might see there, Petra turned her head and buried her face in his chest.
"Now then, young lady," he said firmly, "you've some explaining to do."
A Chance of Happiness Page 11
