She nodded once, which surely meant she understood. Ray raised his fists and shook them, intending to communicate triumph, and then he showed her the backs of his hands as a kind of punctuation, a sign that he hadn't finished. How could he ask the question? He held out his hands with the fingers splayed and lifted his shoulders in an extravagant shrug and cocked his head on one side while widening his eyes and distorting the rest of his features into an interrogative grimace so fierce that his brows ached. "Why?" he didn't say but only mouthed, "why me?" and jerked all his fingers at himself.
He saw her grasp his meaning before her face reverted to illegibility. At first he thought she had no answer or refused to have one, and then she held up her right hand, bending the little finger against the palm to pin it with the thumb. Ray couldn't see what she was trying to communicate until she brandished the remaining fingers and then pointed them at the taverna, by which time he didn't know how much he cared to understand. "Three of what?" he demanded, feeling not just stupid but wilfully so. "Which three?"
He was dismayed to realise that he might have liked her not to comprehend, but she did. She nodded at the taverna, and was waiting for him to look when her gaze strayed past Chloe's Garden, along the road. Her hand sprang open and quivered while her mouth gaped as though straining to utter a cry. Ray turned so hastily to see what she was seeing that he almost fell.
Three figures stood beyond Chloe's Garden and the Sunny View, at the mouth of the alley under the streetlamp. Had she been pointing at them all the time? They were too distant for Ray to make out their faces or anything else of significance about them, and he might almost have been able to believe that nothing was wrong with the sight of them. Then a cat dashed out of the alley and fled together with its shadow across the road, and Ray saw what he ought to have noticed. The shadows of the figures were at least twice the length they should be, extending up the road as though in search of prey. As his pulse swelled in his ears his vision blurred, so that he couldn't be certain whether, even if the figures were staying utterly still, their shadows had begun to merge into a single mass of blackness.
He heard a clatter of footsteps behind him, and blinked his eyes clear barely in time to watch the mute woman disappear past the bend in the road. He swung around again to find that the road beyond the Sunny View was deserted apart from the dancing shadow of the spider. As he trudged back to Chloe's Garden he saw all the diners watching him, though quite a few turned away to pretend they hadn't been. Several of the family seemed to want to speak, and Doug was first "Dad, what did you do to her?"
"I didn't do anything. I was just trying to make myself understood."
"Is that why she ran away?" Pris said with a tentative laugh.
"That wasn't my doing. Didn't you see?"
"See what?" Natalie said at if she mightn't want to know.
He mustn't unnerve William, especially since he was growing less sure what he'd seen. "That I didn't make her run," he said.
"If you say so," Doug said, "but what did you want from her?"
"Just to find out if she had another copy of that book."
"Maybe you can find it online. Shall I look?"
"I think I'm still capable, son," Ray said, not least because he felt slow for having failed to think of searching. He took out his phone and found nothing at all—no copies of History of Greece Islands for sale, and not a single reference to the book or its author. Though Ray had seen it was self-published, he wouldn't have expected it to be quite so unremarked. He could have fancied that every trace of it had been erased from the web.
"Let me try," Doug said, and Ray did his best not to feel patronised. As he watched Doug search he was aware of the darkness beyond the dim road, and felt as if the light of the phone were a feeble bid to hold it back. Before long Doug admitted defeat too. "Never mind," Ray said but did, which made him anxious to examine whatever was left of the book. Perhaps that was why he was on edge, though whenever he glanced along the road the scrawny restlessness turned out to belong to the shadow of the spider.
Once everyone had said goodnight while the faces watching from the playground grinned at them, he laboured upstairs after Sandra. She was inside the apartment by the time he reached it, and he might have thought she was eager for bed if not for making love. Just the same, he pulled out the drawer of the bedside table. "Do you mind if I finish sorting through all this?"
"Why is it so important to you, Ray?"
"I just want to see what I've managed to save. I'll do it outside if you like."
"I'll be in bed if you need me."
This sounded like an unmistakable hint, and he felt guilty for postponing his response. He gave her a smile that he hoped wasn't too abjectly apologetic as he carried the drawer onto the balcony. He switched on the outside light, which seemed to rouse a crouching shape on the beach—just a wave—before he slid the window shut behind him.
The fragments of the book were dry now, but this meant some of them were more thoroughly stuck together. However carefully he tried to part them, sections of one fragment clung to the other. He peeled them all apart as best he could and set about leafing through them. He was hoping to deduce why the woman had given him the book, and found that was as far as he could think.
There was nothing he could recognise as referring to Vasilema that he hadn't previously read, and nothing else that might explain the gift. The most substantial portion of the chapter was the first page, and even there the sentences were incomplete. As for the photograph of the monastery on the reverse, it had lost the section showing how unblackened the trees were. When he tried to recall the words missing from the sentences he felt as if he were drawing the darkness closer. Perhaps this was caused by the persistent sense he had of supine shapes creeping out of the night towards the Sunny View—still just waves on the beach.
Once he found he was rereading pages or rather their remains he decided he'd left Sandra by herself long enough. He eased the window open and saw she was asleep, though she'd stretched one arm towards the balcony as if to summon him in her dream. He replaced the drawer in the bedside table and used the bathroom as quietly as he could, then slipped into bed. As he slid an arm around Sandra's waist he was hoping to join her in sleep, but the fragmentary sentences were clamouring for completion, and the darkness only let them grow more insistent. The nearest he could come to quietening his mind was by concentrating on the single complete sentence that remained of the chapter on Vasilema—the last words of the chapter, on a page that had been largely blank. "They feed so Skiá feeds," he found himself repeating silently until it began to dull his awareness—until he lost the sense that it should waken him.
The Eleventh Day: 30 August
Ray heard a cry and was awake at once, and lay trying to grasp what he'd heard. At least he was certain it hadn't been William. He was hoping it had nothing to do with the family until he managed to reconstruct the sound—Julian shouting in anger if not in disgust. What was the problem now? Should someone intervene? Ray blinked his eyes wide and was listening for any further commotion when Sandra sat up next to him in bed.
No, it wasn't Sandra. She was still lying beside him with his arm around her waist. Nobody had sat up, but a shape had risen from crouching over her. As Ray struggled to focus his eyes he saw a figure dart as swiftly as a spider to the window. It loomed like a scrawny shadow on the curtain, which stirred as though a wind no more substantial than a breath had touched it, and then the intruder was gone.
How could it be? Ray had grown uncertain what he'd seen by the time he floundered out of bed and stumbled to the window, which was shut and locked as well. As Sandra muttered an indistinct sleepy protest he dragged the window open and lurched onto the balcony. Light was streaming from below it, which meant he couldn't make out whether a thin shape had scuttled along the outer wall of the balconies before leaping from the furthest one into the dark. He craned over the wall and saw Julian outside the lower balcony, peering into the night. "What's going on down t
here?" Ray blurted, mostly in a whisper.
As Julian turned to stare up at him Doug called "Yes, Tim, what's happening? Was someone in your room?"
"Just me," Tim said as if he'd discarded a couple of consonants in his sleep.
Ray heard a confusion of voices in at least two rooms—Pris, Doug, Natalie, Jonquil, William—which didn't quite distract him from a glimpse of movement some way along the beach. By squinting he was just able to distinguish three receding figures. Perhaps because the dim shapes were silhouetted against the waves, their outlines looked not much more stable than the sea. "Who's that?" Ray demanded, stretching out a shaky arm. "Quick, Julian, look."
Julian shaded his eyes to gaze up at Ray before turning to face Sunset Beach. He'd made Ray glance at him, and when Ray returned his attention to the beach it was deserted. How was that possible when there was no concealment on the shore within hundreds of yards of where he'd just seen the figures? As Ray strained his eyes Julian said "What am I meant to be seeing?"
"There was somebody. I know I saw them, three of them. I don't know where they could have gone." Ray was still peering at the dark beach as he said "What are you doing out there, Julian?"
Julian moved close to the balconies and lowered his voice. "I wanted to prove once and for all that nobody could be getting into William's room."
Ray refrained from pointing out that it was Jonquil's too, and found he was nervous of asking "Did you?"
"Of course I did. What on earth do you think?" Having waited until Ray met his incredulous stare, Julian said "But I wanted to make certain he'd no reason to imagine it. I had my suspicions, and it's a damned good job I acted on them."
Ray felt compelled to drop his own voice further—he might almost not have wanted Julian to hear. "Why was that?"
"The door and the windows were all locked, I saw to that, but I caught someone looking in."
"What happened?" Ray said more quietly still.
"I've been out here since William went to sleep. I came round from the front and caught the fellow on our balcony. I can even understand how William might have run away with the idea that he could come in through the glass. He had his face pressed against the window as if he meant to God knows what, squeeze through."
Ray was finding each question less easy to ask. "Do we know who he was?"
"I believe I already did. Perhaps I can be listened to in future." With a frown for anyone who'd earned the rebuke, Julian said "It was Jonquil's dancing partner."
Ray couldn't avoid realising that he'd already known as well. Before he could think of a response, Julian grimaced and wiped his hands on his shirt. "I had hold of him."
While Ray was by no means certain that he wanted to learn what Julian was recalling, he had to ask "Why are you looking like that?"
"I grabbed him when he hopped over the balcony. He showed me his teeth and gave me the slip." Julian's face writhed again as he said "Slippery isn't the word for him."
"What is, then?"
Julian pondered this, unless he was attempting not to. "Oily," he said. "Not just covered with it either."
Ray saw this too fell short of conveying Julian's experience. He felt as though his thoughts were creeping up on him while he said "Like William's word, do you think?"
"How could he know?" All the same, Julian's conviction appeared to falter. "I suppose," he conceded, "that's how a child might have described the fellow."
Ray's gaze strayed back to the beach, where the movements of the waves looked ominously surreptitious, too reminiscent of supine shapes biding their time. He was scarcely aware of muttering "Maybe that's how they are."
"Forgive me, what did you say?"
Ray was about to repeat the observation, though he was afraid to think where it might lead, until he heard Natalie. "Daddy and grandad are just chatting, William. Let's all try to get back to sleep."
"We'd better not discuss this any further," Julian murmured. "Perhaps we can continue at another time."
"I think we'll have to," Ray said but felt unhappily as though he'd lost a chance.
As Julian headed around the apartment block to his front door, Ray inched the window open. He was hoping Sandra hadn't wakened, but she mumbled "Who's out there?"
"Julian saw someone hanging about outside. I'll tell you about it later."
"I thought he'd got in," Sandra said quite clearly and at once was asleep. Ray knew he wouldn't be, but had to lie beside her and embrace her as well. When he tried to draw her arm into the safety of the quilt she moaned and moved it out of reach. He didn't know how much time passed before his eyes grew so tired that the lids slumped shut. Perhaps he needn't watch the window any longer—not tonight, at any rate. He still couldn't sleep, since far too many thoughts had caught up with him. Dismaying as they were, it was even worse to wonder how he could persuade everyone that he'd seen the truth.
***
Everyone had finished breakfast when Ray leaned over the balcony. "Shall we have our talk up here, Julian?"
"I think I've said all I have to say," Julian told him and patted William on the head.
"Some people won't have heard it. Sandra hasn't," Ray said, feeling bound for desperation before he'd thought he would.
"I should think you can tell her, Raymond."
"She's better hearing it from the man who knows most," Ray said more desperately still.
"I suppose there is that. Very well, we'll be up in a minute. Douglas and Priscilla may as well come too. Timothy, if you could help Jonquil with William we'll find you in the play area in due course."
"What aren't we allowed to hear now?"
"That's not the issue, Timothy. I hope you don't object to looking after your young cousin."
"I don't see why it needs both of us."
"Because he'll be safer with two of you, Tim," Natalie said. "Do you really mind?"
"Of course he doesn't, Nat," Doug said.
"He's just got a grump on because we had to wake him up," said Pris.
"You be good for Tim and Jonquil, William," Sandra called and tugged her hat down, shading her sunglasses further.
"You can help them both to finish waking up," Natalie said. Ray glanced at Sandra, wondering how sleepy her eyes might be, but saw just his own shrunken reflection in the black lenses. As he and Sandra cleared the table on the balcony he heard the youngsters being sent on their way, and not many moments later there was a knock at the door, immediately followed by a lighter one. "That's two," Doug called, and Pris added "It's safe to let us in."
They thought they were joking or celebrating a local custom, but Ray was no longer amused. Sandra opened the door as he manhandled the two chairs out of the room to supplement the pair on the balcony, where he and Sandra and the other women sat down while Doug and Julian leaned against the outer wall. "So, Julian," Ray said, only to feel less prepared than he'd hoped to be. "What did you tell William and Jonquil?"
"Just that I was right and her follower had been loitering round here. And that I'd chased the fellow off and I doubt he'll be returning."
If Ray was closer to doubting the opposite, this wasn't the moment to argue. "Now can you say what you said to me?"
"I nearly had him but he was too fast for me."
"You said more than that, didn't you? You said you managed to grab him."
"I got my hands on him but he wriggled out of them."
"And you told me how he felt. You said..."
"Sweaty. You'll forgive me," Julian said with a glance at Doug and Pris, "but that's how quite a few of your locals smell."
"That isn't how you put it last night," Ray protested.
"I said he was oily, I believe. Pretty much the same thing. No, I'll grant you, a bit more. Oily in every sense."
"You said William's word applied as well."
"I don't think anyone would say I'd ever be so childish as to use it. Or if I thought about it that must show I have a little imagination after all."
As Ray struggled to think how to procee
d Sandra said "Does any of this matter very much? How he felt, I mean. Have you been in touch with the police?"
"Natalie and I have decided against it, given my experience with them and Raymond's. I suspect they would feel we were wasting their time."
"But you wouldn't be, would you?" Doug said.
"All we could say was that the fellow was looking in the window." With a grimace not unlike the one Ray remembered from last night Julian said "I'm afraid we would have to admit that he may not have been entirely uninvited."
"Would you like to say what you mean by that?" Natalie demanded.
"I'm simply thinking of how Jonquil looked at him."
Ray thought Julian might have touched upon more of the truth than he knew. He was trying to think how to address this when Natalie said "She was just being teenage. It's about time you got used to it, Julian."
"I'm with Natalie," Pris said. "This doesn't seem much to bring us all up here for."
"It isn't everything." Ray felt as if he'd stepped over an edge or at any rate was about to be unable to step back. "I've got something you all need to see," he said and limped to the bedside table before he could find his actions impossibly foolish. He carried the drawer onto the balcony and, having dumped it on the table, found the remains of the first page about Vasilema. "Look at this," he urged.
As they examined the photograph everyone confirmed everybody else's silence. "It's the monastery," Natalie said at last in a tone like an audible shrug.
"Yes, but look properly, it's not as black. You can see how that's spreading from it, can't you? The rock underneath the monastery isn't nearly as black as we saw." Ray felt as if his words were insufficiently precise, just like the remnant of the photograph. "If we had the rest of it," he said, "you'd see the trees weren't even touched. Are you sure you didn't see that when I had the book, Doug?"
Thirteen Days By Sunset Beach Page 20
