by Anne Hampson
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Her father stood in the middle of the room and searched his daughter’s face. ‘Seen a ghost?’
‘Where have you been?’ It was the first time she had asked him this and his lips moved, quivering with anger.
‘What the devil has it to do with you? Where’s your
mother?’
She wondered what he would say should she calmly remark, ‘She’s out with her man friend.’ Aloud she said,
‘I don’t know. I’m waiting for her to come in; I want to talk to her.’
‘What about?’ Harsh tones and a glance at the oak clock on the wall. It was about to chime the hour of midnight. ‘She’s up to no good till this time of the night!’
‘You’ve only just arrived home yourself,’ Gale flashed, looking him over contemptuously and half inclined to throw wide the door in order to let escape the nauseating odour of stale beer which emanated from his breath and his clothing. Mingling with this was the smell of tobacco — cigarette smoke adhering to his jacket and his hair. Gale fell to wondering what her mother’s friend was like and whether he was the clean wholesome type ... like Julius, who smoked not at all and drank little; who always seemed just to have emerged from a shower; whose shirts were immaculate as his suits. His hair shone always - shone like polished steel, and he used a delightful after-shave lotion which invariably set Gale musing on his island and its mountains and the wild tang of herbs growing there and the pure cool breeze sweeping in from the sea.
‘She’s no right to be out! I’ll wait up with you and give her what for!’ He lurched towards the couch and slumped into the cushions.
‘You’ll not lay a finger on Mother while I’m here!’
‘Lay a finger?’ His glazed eyes widened. ‘Have I ever used violence against your mother?’
Impatiently she drew a long breath.
‘Is that anything to your credit?’ she asked after a long pause.
‘I’ve always maintained that a man should never use his superior strength to subjugate a female. And I’ve stuck to that principle, young woman. Though maybe if I’d given you a clip over the ear now and then you wouldn’t be so damned impertinent now. You’d not be standing there, like some blasted judge — looking at me in this way. Your own father! Sit down, if you must wait for her to come in!’
‘You’d be better in bed. I want to talk to Mother alone.’
‘You do? What about?’ he demanded again.
‘A private matter.’ She saw that his eyes were closing. ‘Why don’t you go up? You can say what you have to say in the morning — when you’re feeling better.’
‘When I’m sober, you mean?’ He laughed at her expression of disgust and then ordered her again to sit down.
‘I’m going to bed.’ She went out and left him there. But she lay awake, alert in case there was to be a quarrel. Guilt swept through her as she mused on the peace which had reigned before that fateful night when she had decided to pay Trevis out for what he had done to her friend. True, her mother’s life hadn’t been happy, but at least there had been no strain such as there was now. Gale and her mother would sometimes take a stroll in the park of an evening, or they would sit and talk. Gale used to go out with her friends, of course, but she always made a point of spending two or three nights in with her mother. Her father went his own way, but no sharp words were spoken between him and his wife, and even Gale was so resigned that she accepted his way of life without comment. And now, owing to Gale’s own action, there was strife and bickering all round.
She stiffened under the bedclothes as she heard her mother enter the house and close the front door quietly behind her. No sound of voices. Her father was obviously asleep on the couch; nothing short of an earthquake would waken him until the morning. Gale slipped out of bed and reached for the robe hanging behind the door. Softly she went into her parents’ room.
‘Is something wrong?’ Mrs. Davis looked frowningly at her ... and for some quite incomprehensible reason Gale had the uncanny impression that her mother was acting a part. So many things now about her mother that were both puzzling and disturbing. Gale always believed she understood her perfectly, but lately she was beginning to doubt if she would ever understand her.
‘Don’t you know what’s wrong, Mother?’
Mrs. Davis shook her head, slipping off her coat and opening the wardrobe door in search of a hanger, a satin-covered hanger on which she had spent so much of her time, sitting alone, ruching the satin ribbon and fastening it round the wooden coat hanger, making it look pretty. Everyone in the house had these hangers, and so did Edward and his wife.
‘I haven’t the faintest idea what could be wrong.’ ‘You don’t sound particularly troubled, either.’ ‘Why should I be? You lead your own life, your father leads his, and I lead mine. If we have problems then we must solve them ourselves - without the help of others.’ Gale’s eyes glinted. She watched her mother carefully hang the coat in the wardrobe, buttoning it up so that it hung straight.
‘Julius Spiridon’s been here.’
‘Oh ... he said he’d be coming to see you.’
‘He tells me you have—’ Gale broke off and began again, after a hesitation for the subject was so delicate. ‘Is it true that you have a - a man friend?’
Closing the door of the wardrobe and automatically twisting the key in it, Mrs. Davis turned. It suddenly struck Gale that she looked ten years younger - and she looked inordinately pretty. And her dress; it was at least three inches shorter than she normally wore her dresses. Gale’s eyes fell to the hem; it had been taken up by hand. Gale blinked. The last thing she could imagine was her mother, sitting down, and deliberately shortening a dress. ‘Disgusting!’ her mother had said - and that was only when dresses came just above the knees!
‘I have a friend, yes—’
‘A man friend?’
‘A man friend.’
Her daughter gaped; this bald admission staggered her even more than when the information had been imparted to her earlier in the evening by Julius.
‘How long have you known him?’
‘It isn’t any of your business, but I’ll tell you all the same. I’ve known him over three years.’ ‘Three years!’
‘He asked me to go out with him, but I refused. Two wrongs never add up to a right, I told myself. So although your father played his games I did not. Besides,
I had you to think of; I didn’t wish to lose your respect. Now, I don’t care if I do, because the respect of a daughter like you isn’t all that important.’
Gale winced. This was so unlike her mother, and as the silent moments passed, and they stood there looking at each other, Gale felt the pain of tears behind her eyes.
‘I never did that thing you believed of me. Julius should have denied it too.’
‘He’s an honest man, a trustworthy man. Did he ask you to marry him?’
Gale nodded, aware of the sensation that her mother was acting a part. Yet why should she? And what sort of a part was she acting? It all added up to nonsense and Gale dismissed it, although it still hovered in her subconscious and was to come to the fore later, with far-reaching effects.
‘Did you tell him that you’d leave Father and me and -and go and live with this - this man, if I didn’t agree to marry Julius?’
‘I did say that, yes.’ So calmly spoken! Was this the mother who hitherto had been so shy and strait-laced, as her husband always described her? Gale found herself staggered into speechlessness and for a space she just shook her head from side to side, wondering if she were dreaming. She said presently,
‘You couldn’t possibly have meant it.’
‘I can’t blame you for being sceptical. But I certainly do mean it. Why should I live in this house with two such immoral people as you and your father? I might as well find pleasure myself as well.’
‘Do you love him?’
‘I’ve loved him almost from the moment we met.’ A touch of sadness entered the quiet tones; Gale knew a s
udden hurt near her heart and for one reckless moment wished her mother the best of luck! But she soon recovered. Her mother mustn’t do this thing; she would be bound to regret it quite soon, as guilt must take full possession. Mrs. Davis was made that way.
‘You’ll give him up if I marry Julius?’ Gale watched her mother’s face closely. It seemed to pale a little.
‘I shall never give him up now, but I’d not go and live with him.’
A profound silence ensued before Gale spoke.
‘In other words, you’re holding out a threat which is in effect blackmail? Either I marry Julius or you leave us?’ ‘Call it blackmail if you wish,’ returned her mother indifferently. ‘I told Julius that your action had destroyed all my ideals. I said that the only thing which would make me feel less bitter was for you to marry him. I did suggest this to you, if you remember?’
‘And I told you there was no question of marriage, as Julius and I were merely acquaintances.’ Her mother said nothing, merely crossing over to the dressing-table and taking out a tissue from a packet and soaking it in eau-de-Cologne. ‘You’d have me marry a man I don’t love?’ Still no response; Mrs. Davis casually applied the tissue to her face. Gale’s mouth went tight. ‘I told Julius there was something I didn’t understand - and there certainly is! Does it not occur to you that certain aspects of this situation aren’t feasible? - that to me they can scarcely ring true? I know you well enough to be sure you’d never wish me to marry a man with whom I’m not in love, one who could never love me?’
At those last words her mother opened her mouth, then closed it swiftly. Undoubtedly words had leapt to her mother’s lips, in one unguarded second, only to be caught back just in time. Nerve-ends prickled along
Gale’s spine. She had an urge to ask her mother what it was she had been about to say, then realized she would receive no satisfaction whatsoever. If her mother had wanted her to hear the words then she would have spoken them. Sighing heavily and impatiently Gale said, her voice edged with ill-humour, ‘There’s something very odd going on, something known only to you and Julius.’ Had her mother given a start at those words? Gale couldn’t be sure and she breathed another impatient sigh. ‘I shan’t marry him, so that appears to end the whole business.’
Mrs. Davis twisted round to the mirror, took out a dry tissue and dabbed her face dry.
‘Then I shall go and live with Jack.’
Embarrassed colour shot into Gale’s cheeks, for the mentioning of the man’s name seemed to give the affair a stark and nasty flavour of reality.
‘I can’t believe you mean it, Mother.’
‘Then you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?’ Mrs. Davis had apparently finished with her toilet, and with the subject, for she said dismissively, ‘I’m tired, Gale, and you must be too. Goodnight.’
‘But, Mother—!’
‘Goodnight, Gale.’
‘Is that your last word? You’ll really leave Father and me?’
Mrs. Davis swallowed something in her throat; Gale missed the action as she was glancing again at the length of her mother’s dress. So old-fashioned she had been, but now.... She had shapely legs, Gale saw with surprise — and the tightened belt emphasized a tiny waist and dainty curves above. It suddenly struck Gale that her mother was only forty-four. She had always seemed so old, like a woman in her late fifties.
‘It’s my last word, Gale. I’m not willing to live with two shameless immoral people. One is sufficient and if you remain here then I go.’
Unbelievably Mrs. Davis gestured towards the door, telling Gale to close it quietly when she went out, as she preferred her husband to remai n where he was for the rest of the night. Gale could only stare, hurt and angry, furious with herself and with Tricia, and with Trevis for being the prime cause of all this. She was even angry with Julius for agreeing to marry her, but, strangely, she was less angry with her mother than with anyone else. She had no idea why, but something told her the reason would come to her at some time or another.
CHAPTER SIX
Gale stood in the shady arched courtyard and frowned at the cold moon that shone over the volcanic landscape -the three mountain masses formed of igneous rocks spewed up countless ages ago as molten magma from the depths of the sea. A breathtaking kind of beauty existed in this barren countryside, differing entirely from the lush hillsides rising from the sandy beach below her husband’s arched and terraced house above the village of Chora.
Turning her head, she encountered his meditative gaze, and turned swiftly away again.
‘I’m ready to leave when you are,’ she informed him icily. ‘If you had to turn back you could at least have resisted the temptation to stop and gossip. Or did you keep me waiting on purpose?’
Julius, immaculate in black suit and white shirt, spoke softly, putting his mouth close to her ear.
‘Since our marriage a month ago I have repeatedly warned you to be careful how you speak to me. If you are wise, Gale, you’ll heed my warnings, for otherwise you’re going to find life rather unpleasant.’ With a proprietorial hand on her arm he arranged her wrap with the other. Viciously she twisted away, but the grip on her arm brought her round again. ‘If we’re going to quarrel we’ll do it in the car, not in our host’s outer courtyard. Even here, we could be heard. Come!’
Gale had no option but to obey, since his grip was obviously not going to slacken until they reached the car, which was standing on one side of a wide drive leading off' the courtyard.
‘Why did you keep me waiting so long?’ she demanded immediately she was in the car and he sitting beside her. ‘You were gone more than ten minutes. You said you’d only be a moment!’
‘A figure of speech, which you should have accepted as such. One always says one will only be a moment.’ The engine purred and the car slid away along the moonlit drive towards the road. ‘I had forgotten a small item of business which I had meant to discuss with Adonis and the others—’
‘You didn’t tell me it was to be a business dinner! I understood it was to be social; I was never so bored in my life with a conversation!’
‘You had the women to talk to.’
Gale drew an angry breath.
‘What on earth induced me to marry you I’ll never know!’
A twist of his head and a fleeting glance; she noted with increasing fury the humorous lift to the corners of his mouth.
‘That’s a lie,’ he told her quietly. ‘You are fully aware that you married me for the same reason I married you.’ She went red, but lifted her chin and swiftly denied, ‘I did not! I married you because of Mother!’ Julius’s laugh rang out. It grated on her nerves, but it was not until he spoke that she knew the reason for the laugh.
‘Do you realize what you’ve admitted? You’re so heated inside with anger against me that you speak without thinking. You’ve just admitted, by your denial, that you did in fact marry me for desire. You wanted me as much as I wanted you; it’s always been like that, right from the first. No, don’t argue, Gale. Be honest for a change and admit that a woman has the same inclinations as a man.’
‘I married you for my mother’s sake.’
‘You stubborn wretch, Gale. One of these days you’re going to try my patience too far!’
‘Your threats don’t frighten me, Julius. I can stick up for myself.’ She spoke with confidence because, contrary to her expectations, Julius had proved to be tolerant rather than firm, understanding rather than impatient. He was inordinately easy to manage after all. He quarrelled, naturally, when she provoked him to extremes, and his warnings came at regular intervals. They were received by Gale with derision simply owing to his lack of a follow-up. He threatened, then appeared to forget all about it, so life with Julius had turned out to be far less stormy than Gale had anticipated when, after days of indecision, she had accepted his proposal of marriage.
Reminiscently she dwelt for a space on the events preceding her decision. Her mother’s adamant attitude, her swearing she would go and
live with this Jack if Gale refused to marry Julius. Gale had argued until she was, figuratively, blue in the face, argued that her mother had no intention of carrying out her threat. It seemed in the end that she meant what she said. All this time Gale’s father went his sublime way, oblivious of the tussle taking place between mother and daughter. He growled at his wife, he swore he’d make her suffer if it was a man she was meeting on these outings of hers, but all this was superficial; he trusted his wife so implicitly that what little concern he had at first experienced soon gave way to his former easy-going attitude. He even told Gale that her mother was going out with another woman, and went as far as to say he was glad she had found a companion.
However, despite her mother’s continued threats Gale might still have refused to marry Julius, but on two occasions she had found herself in a position similar to that at the lodge, though not of course so dangerous. The first time was when Julius had called again at the house and, finding Gale alone - as he later said he knew he would - he took her into his arms, laughing at her resistance, and kissed her with the same passion and force as on that occasion in the lodge.
‘You’ll marry me,’ he had told her ardently, making no attempt this time to ‘place his hand on her heart’. But he knew just how to arouse her desires and she found herself quivering with nervous tension, intensely affected by his finesse and practised art of lovemaking. His knowledge of his own power was a weapon which took him half way to victory. Assured, confident ... because of his inordinate attractiveness — his looks, his physique, his experience of women. ‘Yes, my lovely, desirable Gale, you’ll marry me - because you won’t be able to help yourself!’ And he had released her then, and stood looking down at her pale face and quivering lips ... and although she swiftly lowered her beautiful lashes she was nevertheless plunged into confusion by the sure knowledge that he had already glimpsed the cloudiness which his lovemaking had brought to her eyes. He laughed softly, a laugh that told her nothing, and he moved away from her and said prosaically, ‘Gale, my sweet, I don’t know how you feel, but I could do with a cup of coffee.’
