She laughed. ‘I feel like a different person. Thank you so much.’
‘And now you must have some of our own goat’s milk, none of this homogenized stuff they sell you in Athens,’ Anna told her, pouring Oriel a large glass and setting it in front of her.
‘Is it safe to drink raw milk?’
Anna laughed. ‘Yes, of course, so long as it’s boiled before you drink it. Most of the islanders drink milk from their animals. Our goats are fed on pasture.’
Oriel ventured a sip. It had an odd, distinctive flavour and was much creamier than the milk she was used to drinking.
Mattias smiled at her. ‘You don’t need to drink it if you’re afraid, or don’t like it.’
‘It’s definitely different, but I like it. I could get quite addicted to the taste.’
‘Some have cow’s milk, which is delivered every week from the mainland to the few fancy villas on the island, but they’re missing out. I can vouch that raw goat’s milk is a cure for all sorts of ailments. Ear infections, asthma, allergies … you name it.’
Oriel took a few more sips. ‘So Helios does have some modern help from the mainland?’
‘Some.’ Mattias nodded. ‘But we like to be as self-sufficient as possible. The old ways were fine up to a point.’
Anna poured some more milk into Oriel’s glass. ‘Our fridge used to be the nearest well, or the sea even, into which we lowered bottles and perishables. Our grannies were our washing machine, in some ways better than today’s electric ones and glad for the money, too,’ she chuckled before moving away to the oven.
‘But that sometimes proved unhealthy with children,’ qualified Mattias. ‘They could catch illnesses like ringworm or dhobi’s itch from badly washed clothes.’
Anna returned with a tray, which she set down on the table, and emptied fresh hot pastries on to a wooden board. ‘I can tell you, the housewives of Helios today bless the Kyrios, who has brought in modern amenities like butane gas, insect spray and washing soap. And of course the island’s telephone system … a real godsend.’
Seated in his chair, Mattias looked up at his wife affectionately. ‘Here, taste one of Anna’s milópita, the best on the island.’
Oriel hadn’t really eaten since the few mezedes she had shared with Vassilis at Limenarkhees. She had hardly touched the food that had been served up to them at dinner, her appetite having been dampened by the appearance of Damian. So it was with relish that she ate Anna’s delicious, warm apple turnovers.
Once she had finished, Anna started to clear the table, refusing Oriel’s help, and then she and Mattias were alone again. Mattias lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair.
‘What do you intend to do now?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t go back to Heliades, that’s for sure, but at the same time I’m bound by contract to finish the job, which means that I have to stay on the island. Anyway, I want to see it through. I’ll never have another opportunity like this. It’s every archaeologist’s dream site.’
Mattias nodded and brought out his pipe. ‘Indeed. Tóra éfages to vódi, tha afíseis tin ourá, now you’ve eaten the ox, you cannot leave the tail.’ He pushed some tobacco into the bowl of the pipe. ‘Well, I hope you will not be upset with me when I tell you that I have taken the liberty of ringing the Kyrios. He was very relieved to know that you’re safe with me here. He will be coming over at midday.’
Oriel felt her throat go suddenly dry and her pulse quickened. ‘Why did you do that, Mattias?’ She sighed and then quickly pulled herself together. ‘I suppose one way or another I had to see him and it’s probably better to see him here rather than at Heliades. I really cannot bear to go back there again.’
‘He sounded very upset on the phone.’
‘Well, it’s all of his own making.’
‘Maybe, but we Greeks always say: a heart that loves is often unreasonable.’
‘Damian doesn’t love me, we hardly know each other. He lusts after me. That’s more the truth of it.’
Little devils danced in Mattias’s grey eyes. ‘And is that the way you feel about him too?’
Oriel evaded his gaze and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. ‘I don’t know how I feel about Damian.’ She shrugged. ‘All I know is that I was foolish enough to give in to the chemistry between us and I got myself burnt. It serves me right. You say he’s finished with Yolanda but, I’m telling you, the way they were together yesterday demonstrated the reverse.’
Mattias shook his head and grinned as he lit his pipe. ‘Aman! You and Damian are as stubborn as each other. I’ve already told you, I’m sure Damian loves you. I think that it was love at first sight for you both all those years ago and you just need to recognize it.’
Nevertheless, Oriel stuck to her guns doggedly. ‘I don’t believe in love at first sight and, anyhow, that can’t be real love because it means you’re falling in love with someone’s appearance, not their character. And that is exactly what happened with me on Aegina. He looked like a Greek god appearing from the depths of the sea in the moonlight, at a time when I was hurting. What do you expect?’ She sighed hopelessly. ‘And he still looks like a Greek god, despite the shark’s best efforts.’
Mattias eyed her sideways through a wisp of smoke. ‘No one believes in love at first sight … until that special person comes along and steals your heart.’
‘Maybe, but then you must be sure that you’re seeing that person clearly and not with blinkers.’
‘Just give him a chance, Oriel, give him a chance. You wouldn’t be talking like this if you hadn’t seen him with Yolanda yesterday, and he wouldn’t have been so hurtful if he hadn’t been jealous of Vassilis Markopoulos.’
‘Maybe,’ Oriel said pensively, wondering where this tangle would end, then adding to herself, And what about his crazy cousin? I could never cope with that. She felt her panic only rising at the thought of meeting Damian again, and part of her wanted desperately to run away. But she wasn’t a quitter and there was nowhere to hide on this island, where she was a stranger. Still, something more powerful than panic held her there – something that was in her heart, clamouring for recognition. And it would not be quietened …
* * *
When Damian walked through the gate, Mattias and Oriel were still sitting at the breakfast table and Anna had gone into the house. That morning he looked something of a brigand, lean and fit in his well washed shabby jeans and open-necked shirt; his thick dark hair ruffled by the morning breeze. However, his grey eyes were sunken and she could see the new ravages in his face from the fight. It was a strange colour, as though a deathly paleness lay under skin that was usually almost as brown as that of a field worker, and the right side of his jaw was swollen under the dark shadow of a nasty bruise.
‘Yassou,’ Mattias called out to him.
Damian smiled lopsidedly and waved. ‘Yassou, Mattias.’
Oriel was intensely aware of the resolute power in his tall figure as he walked towards them and she rose automatically.
‘You look terrible, Calypso,’ he said, coming up to her. His grey pupils seemed even paler today in his saturnine face as they slipped caressingly over her.
‘So do you,’ she replied in a flash, green eyes lifting up to the frowning face and glaring at him.
Damian took Oriel’s hand and covered it with both of his for a moment, holding her gaze as firmly as he held her hand. His old charming smile was back. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’
Mattias pulled himself out of his chair slowly and grabbed his stick. ‘You can stay here, if you like. I’m going fishing and Anna is inside, cooking tonight’s supper. You’ll be quite private,’ he told them.
Picking up her bag, Oriel turned to the fisherman. ‘Efharisto, Mattias, but we’ll go for a walk. I need to stretch my legs.’
‘Parakaló.’ Mattias gave a short nod and went off to collect his fishing gear, leaning on his stick.
Damian made a move to take Oriel’s arm but she drew away from him determinedly a
nd took the lead. He strolled nonchalantly behind her and, as they came to the gate, he asked: ‘Would you like some lunch?’
‘I’ve just finished breakfast, thank you.’
‘The Jeep’s parked outside. I brought a picnic in case you were hungry.’ He hesitated. ‘I know a sandy beach sheltered by pines, which goes on for a mile or so. It’s a pleasant walk. Not many people go there because the sea is quite rough and it’s not advisable to bathe there.’
They walked towards the Jeep. Damian held the door open for her but Oriel hesitated. Her heart felt as if it were beating in her throat. Did she really want to go to an isolated place with Damian? Could she trust being alone with him?
‘What’s wrong, Calypso, don’t you trust me?’ There was a sudden steely note in his voice as though he had read her thoughts. Oriel gazed up at him. His mien had grown stern and she was aware that, despite what had gone on between them, he was still almost a stranger to her and the breadth of his shoulders and the bold strength of his features held the power to unnerve her.
She stifled a bitter laugh. ‘Trust, Damian? You have the nerve to speak about trust?’ Her eyes were charged with hurt and disdain. ‘What is trust to you when it only takes suspicion, not proof, to destroy it?’
Damian stood there a moment considering her question, a nerve moving in his cheek like a tic. Then he spread his hands in a gesture of appeal, a tortured expression on his face. ‘We can’t discuss this here. Let’s go somewhere quiet where I can explain.’
No matter what Mattias had advised, Oriel wanted to delay the discussion, delay the moment when she would be alone with Damian; escape the feelings, the sensations now rising in her, despite the anger, despite the hurt, all frightening in their implication. She didn’t know whether she had the strength or the will to resist him, but one thing was certain: she had to try.
Closing her eyes against the undeniable attraction of his sensuality, she turned away. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have agreed to see you,’ she said, biting her lip. She took a few steps to the edge of the cliffs, trying to put some distance between them, silently concentrating on the view. The scenery was painted in vivid colours. The midday sun was high, the splendour of the light defying all comparison. A salty breeze blew off a sea studded with little, white-sailed caiques and motor boats, and the tufts of the isolated pines that indented the rocks stood out against the same azure-blue, soaked in a golden clarity so unlike the confusion of her own thoughts.
‘Calypso, please let me to speak to you.’
Oriel turned back to face him and, adopting a defiant countenance that she was far from feeling, she replied: ‘I have nothing to say to you.’
If that were the case, why didn’t she feel anger or contempt towards this man? Why, instead, did she feel this disturbing sense of compassion? Compassion? Sympathy? Or was it something else entirely; something she wanted to ignore, to smother, to eradicate from her heart?
Damian came towards her slowly, his gaze so hot and intense that Oriel was filled with conflicting sensations. On the one hand she was rooted to the spot, a prisoner of those searing molten eyes that were turning her inside out and, on the other, she wanted to turn and run as fast as she could. His hands moved down to her shoulders, drawing her towards him.
She felt the heat flood her face as she finally gave in to her outrage. ‘Let me go, Damian Lekkas, let me go!’ she cried out, wrenching herself away.
His hands slipped gently down her arms, his voice soft and low. ‘But I must speak to you. Can’t you grant me one last favour? Come, let’s go for a walk on the beach, it’s such a lovely day.’
‘You’re insane to think that I will go anywhere with you after your incredible behaviour.’
Damian’s air of tender pleading gave way to the old arrogance; he smiled with a flash of strong white teeth. ‘Then I shall carry you. Take your choice, Calypso, for I mean what I say. I intend to have a talk with you, one way or another.’
She flushed again, those words sending a sprinkle of awareness skittering through her and, in spite of her deep anger and passionate resentment, her heart stirred, pounding so loudly at this familiar audacity that excited her so, she thought he must hear it. Her breast rose and fell on a sharp breath and she felt herself wavering. His hand tightened on her arm.
‘Come, Calypso.’
Oriel dropped her gaze to his chest, unable to look at him any more. He was making this so hard for her: she loved to be called Calypso, loved the way he looked at her; it filled her with purring warmth. Confused by the wrangle of emotions churning inside her, gently she pulled away from him and returned her attention to the view.
They were silent for a long moment and she sensed that he had retreated. Finally, she turned back to look at him and her heart gave a painful squeeze. Damian was leaning against the Jeep smoking, his wide shoulders hunched, jet-black head lowered in contemplation of his shoes. He looked oddly vulnerable, standing there alone, as perhaps, she realized, strong men had to be if they were to maintain an appearance of strength.
‘Well,’ she said, speaking as evenly as she could, trying to subdue the tumult within her. ‘What is it you want to say?’
Damian lifted his head slowly; Oriel had never seen his grey eyes so dark – they looked almost charcoal, like tarnished silver. ‘Simply that I wish I’d bitten my tongue before saying the things I said to you yesterday.’
Her eyes widened and she caught her breath again, but answered bitterly, ‘It’s rather late to think of that.’
‘Is it too late? If I ask your forgiveness …’
‘Forgiveness? I don’t understand you. You said the most vile, horrible things to me.’
‘I admit it. But you don’t understand. I was not myself … I was all worked up …’
‘What about?’ Oriel knew the answer but she wanted him to explain himself properly.
He gave her a defensive glance. ‘I was half mad with jealousy when I saw you in Vassilis’s arms after … after you’d let me make love to you the night before.’ His jaw hardened and a muscle in his scarred cheek twitched. ‘That wasn’t me.’
She raised an eyebrow coolly. ‘You were jealous of Vassilis, yet you were there with Yolanda,’ she stated. ‘Why is it that Greek men find it so easy to adopt double standards?’
Damian ignored her jibe and gave her a long hard stare. ‘I wasn’t there with Yolanda, I came there looking for you.’ He muttered an oath under his breath. ‘Is that what you thought? Is that why you were so distant with me? I see …’
Oriel digested this for a moment, wondering if it were true. Even if it were, it still didn’t prove that he was finished with the singer. She looked at him with green eyes that held an inscrutable expression. ‘You accused me of … of …’ She couldn’t bear to think of what he had insinuated, let alone repeat what he had said to her.
‘Yes, yes,’ he interrupted, running a hand through his hair. ‘I said some cruel things. I lashed out at you because I was so miserable. I wanted to hurt you, to ease my own pain. Humans are like that, Calypso. God forgive them.’
He sounded as if that explained everything, and it did, of course … if he loved her. Oriel went very still, every sense on red alert. Did Damian love her? Was Mattias right about his friend? She didn’t want to ask herself that question really – she didn’t want to know. It would be too easy, far too easy. Perhaps he could love her, but he wouldn’t let himself … Or was that just her hopeful imagination? No, she preferred to think the worst of Damian; that way, her pride would protect her from being hurt, keep her away from this man who just had to look at her for her bones to turn to water and her brain to mush so that, flooded with a chaos of irrational feelings, she became blind, wanton and weak.
‘I will naturally honour my contract,’ Oriel told him, her voice a little unsteady, ‘but on one condition.’
Damian puffed on his cigarette and his eyes narrowed. ‘Which is?’
‘I will not live at Heliades, I’ll move into the staff house
today.’
Damian lifted his eyes to the sky. ‘I mitéra tou Theoú na me voithísei! Mother of God, help me! I have already told you that it is not a place for you.’ He spread out his hands in an emphatic gesture. ‘It is very primitive.’
Oriel looked at him apprehensively. ‘I don’t care. There’s no way I’m going to spend another night at Heliades. Anything is better than that.’
His eyes glinted darkly in the sunlight while he scrutinized her face for a few seconds. ‘Will you at least come with me to visit the staff house before making up your mind?’ he asked quietly.
‘It’ll make no difference.’
Damian sighed. ‘Mattias told me about the cage of birds. I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to speak with Helena. My cousin is an invalid, confined to a wheelchair with not much else to do, or think about, than play harmless tricks on the people she’s jealous of.’
Oriel’s mouth tightened. ‘Harmless tricks? You mean sick ones.’
‘Sick, if you prefer, but that is what she is: a sick woman,’ Damian persisted grimly, ignoring her pointed remark. ‘But these actions of hers are still harmless if you accept them for what they are: unpleasant but not dangerous. Helena is not wicked, just a very unhappy woman whose mind sometimes goes off-balance. At the end of the day, restricted as she is, she’s powerless.’
‘She gets Beshir to do all her dirty work,’ Oriel shot back, her green eyes hot and bitter.
Damian winced but didn’t try to defend him. ‘I will keep an eye on Beshir in the future.’
‘It still won’t make a difference. I’m not going back there, full stop.’
‘All right, we’ll visit the staff house. But I’m warning you, when you see how basic it is, you may well want to reconsider your decision. Maybe I can come up with another solution. Let me think about it.’
Suddenly, as they were talking, a silver-and-black Bugatti came tearing along the road, then stopped abruptly with screeching brakes a few metres away. Oriel tensed as she watched Yolanda alight, her gleaming brown legs and dazzling white smile in themselves seeming to proclaim her international stardom. But the singer only had eyes for Damian and was apparently oblivious to Oriel’s presence.
Aphrodite's Tears Page 46
