A Kiss From Satan

by Anne Hampson

  The second occasion on which he had her completely in his power was at a party. Feeling she must have air, Gale managed to slip away, only to be seen by Julius, who followed her into the darkness and quietness of the garden. She could have escaped, she told herself afterwards, could have run back to the house before he even had time to catch her up. She hadn’t tried to escape, and once again she knew the attraction of him, an attraction which during the following few moments she admitted was inescapable. Their paths would divide one day, she accepted with resignation, but for the present there was one path only for them both to tread. That path was marriage, since Julius was now determined on this. Previously he would have indulged in an affair; this idea seemed to have faded, but Gale did wonder what her future would have been had he tempted her in this way. Could she have resisted — when she couldn’t resist marrying him? As the question had not arisen Gale thrust the matter from her - and she was exceedingly relieved to do so!

  Julius was turning the car on to the forecourt outside the low stone villa and Gale was brought back with a jerk to the present. The moon was high, and brilliant as floating ice. Sounds and smells assailed her senses as she got out of the car and straightened up beside the tall lean shape of her husband, standing there, holding the car door open for her.

  ‘The flowers at night are marvellous,’ she breathed ecstatically. ‘And the cicadas - they’re just part of all the magic!’ Her whole manner had changed; excitement throbbed till it formed an ache in her heart and her chest. The car door slammed and all was still as Julius lifted her right off her feet and carried her to the verandah where a light had been left on by Apollo, the Greek manservant employed by Julius, and who had sufficed until Gale came. Now there was Katriana - Kate for short — who looked to Gale’s needs.

  ‘Shall I carry you right in, and to our room, or do you want some supper?’ Triumph in his voice; she hated it, suddenly, and said,

  ‘I want some supper — of course I do.’

  He put her down, and regarded her with a sort of mocking amusement in those dark basaltic eyes.

  ‘Then by all means you shall have some supper, my dear. Delay will give your ardour time to warm up.’ ‘Or cool off,’ she retorted almost before the last word was out of his mouth. Her eyes glinted and she compressed her lips. She had wanted to be pliant and yielding, and surely out there by the car he saw this. Now she had only the desire to be awkward, and coupled with this emotion was a rising self-disgust. This often occurred, and she would picture herself at eighteen - trusting and wildly in love with Malcolm. Spiritual and mental attraction had come first; physical desire had come later, shyly and reluctantly admitted to her consciousness, and then dismissed. Such thoughts must not establish themselves firmly until she and Malcolm were married.

  And now she had married for physical desire only. There was nothing else between her husband and herself, not even a pleasant friendship. Perhaps that was because each secretly despised the other, aware as they were of the reason for the marriage. How long would it last? she often wondered. Julius had at the very beginning warned her it was forever, as he was a Greek and Greeks intensely objected to divorce. So they would just part company when at last their desire reached satiation point, leaving only the dregs of revulsion. Gale shuddered. For the first time she wished she had not agreed to this marriage.

  Looking up into the face of her husband, she saw that his eyes glinted at her, but he merely said,

  ‘Shall we go in, and then you can tell Kate what you want for your supper?’

  His indifference irritated; she wished he would lose his temper for a change. Quite irrationally she felt she had exhibited awkwardness for nothing, that she’d been cheated, although of what she could not possibly have said.

  The supper tray was brought in ten minutes later and Gale regarded it with a frown. The dinner she and Julius had eaten at his friend’s house had been sumptuous and she had felt at the end that she wouldn’t eat again for a week. And now she was obliged to partake of at least one sandwich, and drink the coffee Kate had brought for her.

  ‘Aren’t you having anything?’ Superfluous question; she was fully aware of it. Julius ate sparingly at any time. Most certainly he’d not eat now.

  ‘Sorry I’m unable to keep you company,’ he drawled, lifting a hand to stifle a yawn. ‘In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go to bed.’ A light kiss was dropped on her brow and then he was gone. Seething, for no reason she herself could explain, Gale glared at the closed door, then she pushed the tray to one side and sat staring at the food daintily laid on it. How long she stared she did not know, but eventually she rang the bell and told Kate to remove it. The Greek woman stared at the untouched food and drink, shrugged her shoulders slightly, and obeyed the order Gale had given.

  It was an hour later that Gale entered the room she and Julius shared. The bed was empty, the covers turned down and her nightdress daintily spread from one pillow downwards, like something displayed in a lingerie shop. Kate always did this; she was artistic, as many Greek women are, and she was equally adept with flowers or leaves, or with the lunch or dinner table. The sight of that nightdress, undisturbed since Kate had put it there this morning, spoke volumes, and to her amazement Gale experienced a sudden lightness of spirit. Julius was sleeping on his own, in the room adjoining this. Her eyes straying to the half-open door, Gale moved towards it. Yes, there he was, fast asleep — breathing evenly and quietly. Let him! And he could continue to sleep on his own. His doing so would at least result in a situation where her self-respect could be restored.

  Up before him the following morning, Gale was interested to see how he would behave, how he would greet her and whether he would comment on his action in occupying the other bedroom.

  ‘Good morning, Gale.’ Lazy eyes appraised her from head to foot. ‘You’re up bright and early. Couldn’t you sleep?’ Humorous crinkles fanned from the corners of his eyes; the sun glinted on the iron-grey hair and on his polished brown skin. Gale had been standing by the rail of the verandah, looking out towards the turquoise sea, smooth as a pond and stretching away to the shores of Asia Minor. A certain peace had enveloped her, and now she frowned inwardly as nerves became taut.

  ‘On the contrary, I slept more soundly than for a while.’ She hoped he believed her, hoped she had no give-away traces of the fitful night she had spent, telling herself one moment that she was glad to be alone, and the next admitting that she missed her husband.

  ‘Strangely,’ came the pleasantly-modulated tone in response, ‘so did I. We must try this new method more often.’

  Silence. She glanced down at her fingers, resting on the rail. To one side of her vines climbed a trellis and scrambled over the roof supports of the verandah, providing shade from the brilliant glare of the sun. At the other end of the verandah bougainvilleas flaunted their violet and orange flowers, as they did on the wall at the far end of the garden, close to which grew lemon and tangerine trees, their fruits resembling outsize gems

  as they nestled among the shiny green foliage. What was Julius trying to do to her? Gale was asking herself as the wordless hush continued. They must try the new method more often. ... Last night she had vowed he should continue to sleep on his own ... yet a few short hours later she was in that, restless state of uncertainty. Pretence was dishonest, she now admitted. As Julius had said once: she desired him just as much as he desired her. Pride forced words from her lips which she did not mean.

  ‘An excellent idea, Julius. It’s rather more comfortable, you must have discovered? Your climate is so sultry, and added to that both you and I are used to sleeping alone.’ She smiled sweetly at him as she spoke, but a trace of acidity edged her voice and another silence ensued, with her husband regarding her with the arrogance she resented and the humour that set her teeth and temper on edge.

  ‘You might be used to sleeping alone, but how can you be so sure that I am?’

  She actually gave a start, disconcerted by this sally. Its impli
cation hurt, too, but this she scarcely noticed just at present. What she did notice was a fluttering in her throat and knew that a pulse was throbbing wildly there.

  ‘Your witticisms might be bright, for so early an hour, but they’re hardly in good taste.’

  ‘Why? Isn’t it the fashion nowadays for husband and wife to talk about their previous affairs?’

  ‘In this case it would be entirely one-sided.’

  ‘So you’d feel cheated?’

  Suddenly she glared at him. He had moved and was idly leaning against the corner pillar of the verandah. His very manner, languid and careless, his narrowed regard and the arrogant slant of an eyebrow... all these fired her already heightened temper.

  ‘Shall we go in to breakfast?’ she snapped. ‘It must be ready by now!’

  He threw her a glance, deliberately inquiring.

  ‘Are you feeling off-colour, my dear?’

  Gale gritted her teeth.

  ‘You’re being particularly trying this morning, Julius,’ she told him unsteadily. ‘What your object is I can’t imagine, but I’m not in the mood to spar with you. Sorry if that disappoints you, but there it is, I’m afraid.’ He laughed, moved closer, and before she had time to twist away out of reach he was patting her cheek and saying,

  ‘Retreating, are you? Not at all brave of you. Don’t make a practice of it, though, for I rather enjoy our slanging matches; they provide diversions in which could otherwise become a dull existence.’ Smoothly spoken words; he appeared indifferent to the startled glance she gave him.

  ‘Dull - already?’ A strange fear caught at her throat but remained undetected in her voice. ‘Life with me is becoming dull?’

  ‘I said it could become dull.’

  She hated his indifference, his calm acceptance of the fact that the romance might very soon wear off'.

  ‘You should have considered this aspect before coercing me into marriage!’

  ‘Coercing?’ He slanted an eyebrow. ‘My dear girl, you were more than willing to marry me.’

  ‘What an opinion you have of yourself!’ she flashed in tones of contempt. ‘Be careful, Julius, that you don’t provoke me too much. There’s no love in this marriage, remember. I could just decide to go home.’

  A silence fell fleetingly between them. When presently he spoke his voice was tinged with amusement. His manner remained confident; he knew she would never leave him.

  ‘Home to Mother? She’d not have you. She’s old-fashioned, remember, and would undoubtedly tell you a wife’s place is with her husband.’

  ‘She would?’ Gale’s eyelids flickered. She spoke in soft and curious tones. ‘But Mother intended leaving Father, leaving him for another man.’ Briefly their eyes met before Julius glanced away, apparently interested in the pretty gecko which was running along the rail of the verandah. Had she caught him unawares? wondered Gale, waiting for him to speak. His head came round again; she assumed an expression which plainly reminded him that she considered there was still a mystery surrounding the events leading up to the marriage.

  ‘Your mother probably considered she had given her marriage a fair trial - and in any case, she had an excuse for leaving your father. He’d been unfaithful for years.’

  ‘I shall never understand how she came to confide in you the way she did. It’s so out of character, for Mother’s always been so shy.’ Gale spoke reflectively, digressing as she dwelt on the incredible change which had taken place in her mother since hearing of the incident at the lodge. Gale also dwelt on her previous conviction that her mother had been acting a part, especially on the night she had first threatened to go away with her man friend.

  ‘Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a member of one’s own family, or even a friend,’ Julius was saying. ‘Your mother appeared to be immeasurably relieved once she had opened up and told me of her troubles.’

  ‘It only adds to the mystery,’ murmured Gale almost to herself. And she went on, ‘Nothing will ever convince me that she would have gone off and lived with another man. She’s too innocent.’

  Julius half smiled at the word but made no comment on it.

  ‘If you were so sure of this then you’d no real need to marry me.’ A subtle question, but a statement also. Gale flushed, unable to find anything to say to this and after a moment Julius continued, smoothly and in tones which she thought were tinged with contempt, although she could not be sure of this, ‘You married me because you knew darned well you couldn’t do without me, as I’ve previously implied. One day you’ll be honest and admit it.’

  Her blushed deepened at this outspoken declaration, and, unable to deliver a cutting riposte, she took refuge in saying,

  ‘I’ve just told you, I’m not in the sparring mood this morning. And in any case, I’m ready for my breakfast. Shall we go in?’

  Her husband laughed, yet her mind carried the conviction that suppressed anger affected the timbre of his voice as she heard him say,

  ‘Avoiding the issue again, I see. Well, my dear, I’ll not torment you,’ and he left his comfortable position by the rail and followed her into the house.

  Later they went down to the beach and swam together for a while, Julius affable and smiling, and Gale cool as always, her intention being to keep her husband at a distance — for the most part — so that when the time came for them to say goodbye she would experience no unnecessary pangs of regret. Regret...? How odd that the idea should even intrude into her mind. With love absent, how could there be regret, once the fire of physical attraction had become a heap of dead ashes?

  Gale sat on the sandy beach and gazed pensively at the swimmer far out there - the man who was her husband, the man whose deeply impressive and unusually forceful personality had affected her right from the moment of their first meeting. How strongly he swam! Everything was easy to him. Yesterday the car had gone wrong and without any hesitation he had rolled up his sleeves and probed about under the bonnet. Within twenty minutes or so the car had been running smoothly again. His work, too, appeared to present him with no headaches. He would spend a couple of hours in his study every day after lunch, and always emerge looking perfectly satisfied and untroubled. He would employ himself in the garden now and then, and one day last week he had even taken over the task of cleaning the house windows, as Apollo was away in his native village, attending a wedding which lasted three days.

  Gale’s interest increased as another swimmer made in a straight line for where Julius was, returning now with powerful strokes which had a deceptive languor about them. The two met in the water; Gale saw the girl shake her head, saw the long golden hair touch the bare brown shoulder of her husband.

  They emerged from the water together, walking towards where Gale sat, under the warm sun pouring down on to the soft pale sands. The couple were chatting like old friends; Julius laughed at something the girl said, and he actually tugged her hair in a little playful gesture ... so unlike anything Gale would have expected of him. She found herself frowning at this act of familiarity and with a flash of retrospection heard Julius admitting he’d had lots of women. Was this one of them?

  A few seconds later the two girls were shaking hands, each examining the other with unconcealed interest while Julius, faintly amused at the expression on his wife’s face, picked up a towel and began drying himself with it.

  ‘It was such a surprise to hear that Julius was married,’ gushed Daphne, one hand idly fingering her lovely hair, which, Gale noticed, was almost silver in places. ‘What an unpredictable man he is!’ A flashing glance at him as she spoke, her manner one of possessiveness, almost.

  ‘Do you live near here?’ inquired Gale in a cool tone, her eyes flickering now over the lovely tanned body of the other girl, who, she guessed, was about twenty- eight years of age. Slender limbs and shapely; curves which would assuredly cause any man to look twice. The girl wore a bikini, as did Gale herself, but whereas Gale’s top half revealed very little, Daphne’s left practical nothing to the imagi
nation. Dislike welled up within Gale. She never for one moment considered the word jealousy.

  ‘We live in the villa just below Julius’s. We’ve been away for a few weeks, that’s why you and I haven’t met before now.’ For all its surface charm there was a sort of venomous undertone to Daphne’s voice, and the glance she now fluttered at Julius was transparently one of blame. ‘To go away, leaving my bachelor friend all alone, and return to find him married! Our Greek help told me of this, but I just didn’t believe it.’

  ‘No?’ with acid sweetness from Gale. ‘Well, you have to believe it now, don’t you?’ Gale avoided her husband’s eyes, but instinctively she knew he had glanced sharply and censoriously at her. Daphne deliberately gasped, audibly, so that Julius should hear.

  ‘Have I said something I shouldn’t?’ she inquired innocently, her big blue eyes taking on a worried look. ‘Julius, do tell me if I’ve been - er - undiplomatic?’ ‘Not that I noticed, Daphne,’ he smiled. ‘Sit down, girls, and I’ll get you a drink of something - or would you prefer an ice?’

  Gale swallowed and said,

  ‘It’s almost lunch time, Julius. Don’t you think we ought to be moving?’ Her challenging gaze informed him that she would subject his friend to some discomfort, should they stay, and Julius mildly agreed that it was rather late. But he again asked Daphne if he could fetch her anything from the little kiosk farther along the beach. She shook her head, her eyes fixed piercingly on Gale.