Some of the phrases they had exchanged rushed back to her, stealing her breath again and squeezing her heart, knotting her stomach and making her blush.
‘I want to ravish every part of your body, to know all its dark, inner secrets. Entwine it around mine,’ he had said as he lifted her slender frame and straddled her from behind. ‘This is the way our ancestors made love,’ he told her when, looking up into the mirror, she had hesitated, aghast at the earthy and primitive image of their bodies so wantonly displayed – more like animals mating. But he had promised to take her where she had never been before. What woman, aroused as she had been at the time, could resist such an offer?
Damian had kept his promise. Waves of excitement, explosions of passion, new crescendos of sensation had flooded through each part of her as he had bored into her with an almost savage, plundering drive for total possession and a ravishing stream of entrancing caresses – using his hands, his lips and his tongue in addition to the masculine part of him – and she could still hear her trembling voice crying out her desire and urging him on as the full, heavy surge of him moved inside her. How could she have said such things? Yet she knew with a throbbing certainty that, no matter how many women Damian had seduced before her, she would be wantonly prey to his lure all over again if he beckoned.
Despite the cooling sea breezes mitigating the sun’s heat, Oriel suddenly felt terribly hot. She was wearing her bikini underneath her sundress and, without a second thought, discarded the offending garment and slipped into the sea. The rocks were sharp and cut her feet, and there were tiresome drifts of seaweed to negotiate before getting to the sandy part, but she didn’t care. She lay on her back, cradled in the clear, sparkling water as it undulated beneath her, watching the sun glittering on the white foam and dancing waves, and looking up at the seabirds drawing big circles in the limitless blue expanse. For a moment, Damian, the poor little canary, Beshir, Helena, Chantal, Yolanda – all the trials and afflictions of this mortal life – were simply washed from her memory, her heart singing inside her in sheer thankfulness for this harmless rapture of the senses, one which posed no threat to her, only joy.
Suddenly, over the eternal boom of the breakers on the boulders, Oriel heard a voice calling: ‘Hello, Oriel! Kalispera.’
She turned her head towards the shore. Mattias was standing on the rocks, waving at her. Oriel waved back.
‘Be careful, haven’t you read the sign? Kíndyno, Danger!’ he shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth. ‘The sea currents are treacherous here.’
Oriel hadn’t noticed a sign. She had assumed it was safe on this part of the beach since it was only fifty yards from where a large group was swimming, further towards the quay. However, as she tried to swim back to shore she realized that the current was working against her and that, despite being an excellent swimmer, she was having some difficulty in fighting the tide that was pulling her back towards the rocks. Thrashing frantically, beating the water with her hands, she battled the sea … but she knew she was losing ground.
Oriel suddenly recognized that she had been foolhardy and a coldness closed like an unfamiliar hand about her heart as the first prick of fear assailed her. She began to gasp and splutter and, as if that was not enough, an excruciating pain shot up her leg, almost paralysing her. Cramp! A wave broke over her face and then another; she was taking in water … choking. Panic flooded her now, robbing her of her last ounce of control – I’m going to die, she thought.
‘It’s all right, I’m here. I’ll get you back safe and sound.’ At the reassuring voice of Mattias, Oriel’s fear instantly ebbed. She had been too busy fighting the current to notice that he had plunged into the water to come to her rescue. ‘Just let yourself go limp,’ he told her. ‘Leave the rest to me.’
Oriel obeyed and, after a few seconds, she relaxed fully in Mattias’s grasp. Despite his disability, the fisherman was a powerful swimmer and it wasn’t long before they were safely back on the sand. She still felt a little shaken; she was shivering but the cramp in her leg had subsided as suddenly as it had struck.
‘You shouldn’t have ventured out so far,’ Mattias reproved. ‘It is not so sheltered this far down the beach, you can see it in the pattern of the waves.’ He pointed his finger. ‘Look how the sea slaps on to the rocks there.’
‘I hadn’t seen any sign,’ said Oriel, ‘So silly of me, I’m sorry. As a diver, it’s my job to be aware of hazards.’
‘Well, no harm done this time. I will talk to the harbour master. He needs to move the sign and red flag to a more obvious place. They’ve put them over there behind that pine, out of the wind.’ He gestured to a large sea pine some twenty yards away before frowning at Oriel. ‘You’re shivering, you’d better get dry and dressed quickly.’
Oriel was deeply touched by his fatherly concern. ‘I’ll be fine now. Thank you, Mattias.’ She took the towel out of her bag and dried herself, before putting on her sundress. While she dressed, Mattias had turned his back considerately and was sorting out his fishing gear.
‘If you don’t mind my saying, Oriel, you should not be wearing that sort of bathing costume around here,’ he told her, still with his back to her. ‘Men are not used to it and you are so fair …’
‘I thought no one was around to see but, yes, you’re right, I’ll bear that in mind. I think I brought a one-piece with me. I’ll make sure to dig it out for my next swim. That was very courageous of you to jump in after me.’
‘I’m used to these waters. I swim in them all year round, in all weathers,’ he explained. ‘If you want to have a swim, you could have it down on the beach, outside the taverna, although the water is not so clean there. You’re better off going to one of the little coves, though. There are some narrow paths that lead down from the cliffs.’
‘Yes, I saw a few of them when I went for a drive on Monday, past Manoli’s on the coast road to the north of the island.’ She came to stand beside him.
‘Here, have some of this. It’s good brandy,’ he said, removing a flask from his canvas bag.
‘Thanks,’ Oriel murmured, and she swallowed a small quantity of the neat spirit. She smiled warmly at him. ‘I already feel better.’
‘If you drove on past Manoli’s on Monday, you must have come across the four villas that belong to the richest families on the island … after the Lekkas family, that is.’
‘Yes.’ She coloured slightly as the memory gave her momentary unease.
Her discomfiture wasn’t lost on Mattias. ‘Ah … Yolanda,’ he said, giving a small shrug. ‘She’s headstrong, that one. It has helped her career, no doubt. But love for the Kyrios? I don’t think so.’
‘Why?’
‘She threw it all away in order to pursue her ambitions.’
‘You mean with Damian?’
‘Kyrios Lekkas cared deeply for her. They were childhood sweethearts.’
‘I heard that, but I was also told he couldn’t marry her because she comes from a different social class, and the family objected.’
Mattias scoffed. ‘Wagging tongues! People gossip, often without knowing the whole story. They spin a thread from what they hear with their ears and fill the gaps with tales from their imagination, and so the web grows.’
‘So what is the truth?’ Oriel asked hesitantly.
Mattias appraised her silently before replying. ‘I am in no position to tell you that, Oriel. But believe me, the Kyrios tried his best. He went against everybody … Yolanda threw it all away and now she cries. As we say: Ap’ éxo koúkla ki apó mésa panoúkla, outside a doll, inside the plague. I never thought he should have trusted her.’
Oriel faltered slightly. ‘Are they … are they not together any more? Even now that he is widowed?’
The fisherman dealt her a wistful smile. ‘Who can tell what the unknown holds for each of us? Móno O Theh-óhs kséri, only God knows, but I don’t think that a glass that has been shattered can be mended.’
‘Damian seems quite balanced for a person who
se life has dealt more than one knock.’
‘You can say that again.’
‘What was his wife like?’
Oriel realized, as soon as she had asked the question, that Mattias had refused to open up about Cassandra before, at the Epiklisi festival, and she felt wrong to have brought up the subject again. But this time he seemed willing to take her into his confidence. She sensed he trusted her.
‘Cassandra? What can I say? She was frivolous and a little spiteful, in the way young kittens are. She was very beautiful. Rich, too. But she didn’t love him. She married him because he was a Lekkas.’ Mattias sat down on a rock and Oriel perched beside him while he continued: ‘At the beginning of their marriage, the Kyrios tried to make it work, but I think his heart was still hurting over Yolanda. Anyway, he didn’t deserve Zeus’s thunderbolts when they came hurtling at him, one after the other.’
‘Cassandra dying,’ stated Oriel, gazing across to the horizon. ‘And losing his brother.’
‘Exactly. But it’s one thing losing your family to illness or an accident but to find the pair of them stretched out on the sand together … murdered.’ Mattias’s voice hushed as he spoke the word, and he crossed himself.
Oriel flinched. The pair of them … She spoke tentatively. ‘So Pericles and Cassandra, were they having an affair?’ She thought of the shark attack and the damage to Damian’s body. So his wife had shied away from him and taken a lover … his own brother?
Mattias looked closely at Oriel, seeing her stunned reaction. ‘I’m sorry, I thought you knew, seeing as you mentioned them dying.’ There was an awkward silence then he spoke again quietly. ‘It was just around the headland, there.’ He pointed towards a spit of land on the far side of the harbour. ‘Poor devils, they didn’t deserve that. No one does.’
Her eyes widened with shock. ‘Did they ever find out who did it?’
‘The police tried. The Kyrios made sure they brought in a top man from Athens to investigate … but nothing.’ He paused. ‘The islanders always protect their own. Other than the murderer I’m sure someone knew the truth, but the secret will go to the grave with them, most likely.’
Oriel had to ask her next question. ‘Did the police think it was Damian? He must have been a suspect, surely?’
‘He was away in Paris at the time, dóxa to Theó,’ said Mattias.
He took out a pipe from his canvas bag, tapped it on the rock and stuffed the bowl with tobacco, tamping it down before lighting it. Then he stretched out his injured leg gingerly, comfortably settling himself for a more lengthy conversation. While Mattias was doing this, Oriel gazed at the whole world at her feet, lost in thought. The rocks were fringed with little foamy waves breaking softly on the sand; the beach-shallows picked out in lime-green and yellow against the reddish, deckle-edged surfaces of stone. The curled green, brown and maroon branches of seaweed wavered gracefully in the current, with small fish travelling in and out of the tangle in phosphorescent sparks of light. The scene was luminous … harmonious – so different from the bleak and gory events of Damian’s past. No wonder he has scars, she thought to herself, her heart suddenly contracting with pity.
Aloud, she said: ‘It seems like a lot for one person to bear. An avalanche of misfortune, something that might have destroyed a weaker man.’
‘Never a truer word said.’ Mattias nodded, puffing on his pipe. ‘And it started way back, in his childhood. It’s as if the whole family was cursed. Of the two brothers and their cousin, only the Kyrios came out unscathed. He was the only sane one.’
‘What happened?’ Oriel’s eyes fixed on Mattias, needing to know the whole story and yet fearing what he might reveal.
Mattias was silent, as if mulling over whether or not to answer the silent questions reflected in her luminous green gaze.
‘You must on no account bring it up in front of the Kyrios,’ he said eventually. ‘As far as I know, he has never talked about it to anyone.’ Then he paused for a moment, before adding: ‘I’m telling you this, Oriel, because I sense it is right for you to know …’
Oriel looked away again, fearing her fascination would be betrayed in her expression. ‘You can count on my discretion,’ she murmured.
‘The Lekkas family, especially Damian, has been touched by tragedy again and again. There is in the soul of this man a penetrating pain that lingers. He is still young and handsome, despite his scars. Women queue up in the hope that he will surrender his heart … but only a very special love will be able to chase away the demons that haunt him. I hope and believe this person will mend the deep, internal wounds that scar him in other ways, teach him to trust again.’
Oriel’s heart gave a flutter but she urged him to continue. ‘Were these incidents so terrible?’
He regarded her steadily for a few moments – she could sense those disturbing grey eyes probing hers, weighing the pros and the cons of giving her his trust. ‘You are an archaeologist who speaks our language as well as a native, so I’m sure you are familiar with our Greek mythology.’
‘Of course. As a child the tales fascinated me, they still do.’
‘Greek men know the many wonderful differences that exist between them and the fairer sex, but they have a passionate streak for vendetta in their psyches, should a woman be the cause of a tragedy in their life,’ Mattias said, searching Oriel’s face, his gaze holding hers.
‘The story of Damian Lekkas’s parents mirrors one of our Greek tragedies in an uncanny way. His mother was actually named after Aphrodite, and she was very beautiful and charming. Her husband, Hephaestus, the Kyrios’s father, was ugly and dull, though hardworking. Hephaestus had two brothers, Cyrus and Ares. The younger brother, Ares, a widower, was strong and handsome and something of a playboy. They all lived at Heliades. Den vázoun mia asfáleia pára polý kontá sti fotiá, don’t put a fuse too near a fire, says our Greek proverb, because from a little spark a mighty flame might burst. And as the devil always does everything well, that’s exactly what happened.’
‘I can imagine the next bit,’ said Oriel.
‘You guessed right. Aphrodite and Ares fell passionately in love.’
‘That must have shocked the islanders,’ said Oriel thoughtfully. She could only imagine the horror and scandal that must have ensued.
The fisherman nodded. ‘It may be different elsewhere, but here on Helios people regard marriage as sacred. Fornication outside of it is a mortal sin.’
Oriel blushed a little, as a picture of the night before with Damian flashed into her head. But Mattias didn’t seem to notice her discomfort and continued with his story.
‘Well, after that Hephaestus set a trap for the lovers during one of their rendezvous, surprising them in bed. He shot his brother and wife, then turned the gun on himself afterwards.’ Mattias brooded a moment after this bombshell, distress etched in each crease of his tanned and weathered skin.
Oriel gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. ‘How dreadful!’
‘That is not the worst of it.’
‘What could be worse?’
Mattias hesitated as though he found it difficult to continue. His features contorted with something that looked akin to anger mingled with misery, and he added in an almost imperceptible voice: ‘The three children witnessed it all. Damian was nine, Pericles was seven, while Helena, Ares’s daughter, was five.’
Oriel paled, aghast at what she had just heard. And in the silence that followed this shocking and gory revelation, a dove flew down from a pine tree, its beautiful white throat palpitating like a living torn-out heart as it stood a moment on the sun-struck rocks before flying away. The sadness was sculpted even deeper into the lines of Mattias’s face. For a few seconds Oriel buried her face in her hands and fought to control her emotions. ‘How dreadful,’ she murmured again. ‘How utterly dreadful.’
‘From that day Helena never walked again. She lost her speech for a few months.’
‘Oh, that poor girl!’ Oriel’s eyes were gentle green pools of sympath
y. For the first time, despite Helena’s malevolent actions of earlier, she could see why Damian’s cousin had become the way she was.
‘She was never the same again. It was as if the laughing, dancing five-year-old had died along with the three adults. The girl that remained was so damaged inside that she became quite unbalanced. The Kyrios was very protective of her after that.’ He sucked on his pipe and sighed. ‘She was obsessed by her cousin Pericles, and now the poor woman has lost him, too.’
‘She does seem sometimes to have forgotten he’s gone,’ agreed Oriel. ‘Her apartment is a shrine to him.’
‘And the pitiful thing is that her affections were wasted on Pericles. The lad was handsome, that’s for sure, but he was a waster in every other way. Women, drugs, alcohol … they were all he ever thought of. Very different from the Kyrios.’
‘You can’t entirely blame Pericles, surely? How could anyone, let alone a child, get over the trauma of such a tragedy?’
Mattias shook his head. ‘His brother did. No, Pericles was a bad egg. Always was a selfish boy, never showed a grain of loyalty. After the accident with the shark, Cassandra couldn’t bear to look at the Kyrios. She turned to Pericles and well, you know now how that ended.’
‘I’m not a superstitious person,’ said Oriel cautiously, ‘but the family does seem to be jinxed, struck by one disaster after another.’
‘People say on rainy nights in winter, if you listen carefully, you will hear Aphrodite sobbing, the sound trembling on the wind. They say when it rains that it’s tears for her children pouring down on to the island.’
‘How desperately sad! I’m glad you told me, though,’ said Oriel quietly. ‘I love your beautiful island but it hasn’t been easy at Heliades. This will really help me understand the family and make allowances.’
‘That is what I hoped or I wouldn’t have talked about them in this way.’ Mattias shook a sad head. ‘You see, after the way Yolanda and Cassandra behaved, the Kyrios could only see love as unbearable pain. Each time it shows the tip of its flame, he snuffs it out. He only ever allows himself short-lived passions. Here today, gone tomorrow. And all the while a shell hardens around his heart. This is not good, and it makes my own heart ache.’
Aphrodite's Tears Page 40
