Craig turned to watch a launch speeding towards Marmara and when he turned again he came close to her, much closer than before. In other circumstances the manoeuvre could have been deliberately planned, but Jeanette knew his nearness was accidental, that Craig himself was totally unaware of it. But it affected her profoundly; she was moved by fear, an exquisite, throbbing fear that left her heart and mind in tumult. Abruptly she edged away... and sensed the change in him.
'Shall we go in and join the others?' His voice was crisp and hard. Her lips trembled; she heard again the soft and gentle tones he used when talking to Diane.
'If - if you wish.' Her voice must sound flat and dejected; she wondered if he were bored.
'It isn't what I wish, Jeanette,' came the sharp and unexpected retort. 'You complained of the heat, and I suggested we come out here for a breath of air, but now you seem restless. Would you rather go inside again?'
Silence. She had no idea what she wanted; in any case, the words stuck in her throat; she could not speak in face of such impatience. She stared unseeingly at the lights, flickering on the Asiatic shore across the strait; she was only half aware of the scented air, soft as thistledown,, and the whisper of breeze stirring her. hair. *
'Perhaps it's been a little too much for you,' said Craig in rather gentler tones. 'We'll see if Mark will take you home.'
Mark was already approaching, with Diane.
'It's too crowded for comfort, and much too hot.' Diane caught Craig's arm possessively, and then let go of it again. 'Oh, I'm sorry—Did I interrupt anything?'
'No, dear, you didn't interrupt anything. Jeanette is just going home - if Mark will take her?' He looked questioningly at his friend. 'If not, then I will. I can always come back.'
'Are you tired ?' Diane spoke with concern, looking at Jeanette's face. 'Craig tells me you've been ill.'
'It was nothing, really.' Jeanette's glance flickered up to Craig. It surprised her that he should have discussed her indisposition with Diane. Mark was stating his willingness to take her home, saying that Tony was also ready to go and Jeanette had no choice but to agree to Craig's suggestion. After the good nights had been said she turned away with Mark; Diane took Craig's arm again and Jeanette half jerked her head to see them standing there, close together, looking up at the eastern sky with its lace of cloud unfolding, drifting apart in shreds to reveal the pearl-tinted heavens and a moon cut through by the peak of a distant height across on the Asiatic shore. Diane's head moved to one side, coming to rest against her companion's shoulder.
CHAPTER FOUR
Apparently Diane wanted to explore the city, and a little of the surrounding countryside, visiting the main places of interest. Craig, on the other hand, was insisting she take things easy. A compromise was eventually reached. Craig would agree to the sightseeing only if Diane would first of all spend a few days on Buyuk Ada, taking a complete rest.
Having been invited to dinner, along with her brother and Tony, Jeanette sat at Craig's candlelit table and listened silently to the lighthearted argument taking place between Craig and Diane.
'It means you'll have to stay for more than a week,' he said, attentively applying himself to Diane's needs.
'But, Roy, he—'
'Will not mind in the least,' interposed Craig's mother eagerly. 'He said himself that it was silly to come all this way for only one week. There's no real reason why we can't stay longer, Diane dear. He'll be quite all right with the nurse.'
"Very well,' Diane agreed only after a rather lengthy consideration and then, 'Jeanette tells me she has two days' holiday at the beginning of next week and as Mark and Tony are also on holiday, we could make a party. Can we, Craig?' She gave him one of her most adorable smiles and although Craig did hesitate, it was only momentarily.
'That would be fine. I had no idea you were on holiday next week, Jeanette.'
'It's just a short half-term break. We have to be in on Wednesday.' Jeanette watched his expression, unable to decide wether he really welcomed the idea of extra guests, or wether he just couldn't refuse Diane anything she wanted.
'We can come back on Tuesday, then?' Although Diane looked questioningly at Craig, her tone suggested the matter was settled. He nodded, and asked Tony and Mark how they were fixed, and if they had already made arrangements for the holiday. Neither had, and it was decided they should sail for the island on Friday evening.
The Bosphorus was as smooth as glass, glowing like fire as the sun dropped behind the hills; not a breath of wind stirred the surface, and Craig said they would have to use the engine.
They came out of the strait, to glide smoothly across the Sea of Marmara. Jeanette looked back to see lights springing up all over the city and the beautiful silhouette of St. Sophia outlined against the deepening sky, with its four minarets rising heavenwards.
Then she became aware of the sparks raining all over the sea around them, and of the wake shining with a strange brilliance, streaming a long way behind and seeming never to disappear.
'What is it?' she asked in a slightly awed voice as Craig, having left Mark in control, came and stood beside her.
'Phosphorescence,' he explained. 'Surely you've noticed it before? Look out for the porpoises — See!' She watched, fascinated, as the playful creatures sent their arcs of light shooting across the water; the tracks remained long after the fish had disappeared. 'You get it whenever anything touches the water. We anchor the yacht sometimes and swim - when the moon is full - and our movements have the same effect.' More porpoises came close and Jeanette held her breath, sure they would be hit. 'It's a pity there's no wind,' Craig commented, his glance sweeping the still water around them. 'I much prefer to sail.'
They saw several small islands, all part of the Princes' Islands group, and at last reached Buyuk Ada - the 'Big Island'.
Gay cafes along the quay lighted the waterfront, their glow mingling with a million stars shining from an eastern sky and reflected in the dark and placid waters of Marmara.
The population of Buyuk Ada was mainly Greek; unlike the Turks, they possessed a natural gaiety which imparted an air of abandon to the island. It was first and foremost a holiday island, though whole families of wealthy Turks and Greeks would move out from the city to spend the summer months there. Craig commented on its growing popularity, with its consequent overcrowding at this time of the year. Had he been intending to settle in Turkey he would have moved to Heybeli, which was less crowded and not nearly so expensive as Buyuk Ada.
The yali was charming, having been renovated and furnished with an eye to comfort as well-as taste, yet it still retained its eastern atmosphere for, structurally, it was in its original state, constructed entirely of wood, with heavily latticed windows and the characteristic overhanging upper storeys.
Tony and Mark had of course seen it all before, and so had Craig's mother, but the two girls were thrilled and intrigued. Diane, with her usual confidence, went around touching everything, and commenting on it, while Jeanette just stood staring at a tapestry that almost covered one wall. Craig came and stood behind her.
'Recognize it?' he asked, and she nodded. His hands dropped on to her shoulders; it was a friendly, automatic gesture, but she quivered under his touch. Had he noticed? Swiftly, she began to speak.
'Topkapi - the Seraglio; the plane trees and flowers -the kiosks and — and of course, the mosques and minarets in the background...' Jeanette swallowed hard, praying fervently that her confusion would pass unnoticed by Craig.
Arrested, Diane came and joined them. After examining the tapestry for a moment in silence she turned to smile up mischievously at Craig.
'The ladies of the harem, I take it?' she observed. 'You surprise me, Craig.'
'Can't see anything wrong,' interposed Mark, turning. 'All very decent — ladies fully clothed, and one or two even yashmaked. Quite prudish, in fact. I've seen some I'd like better,' he added, grinning.
'I bought it for the workmanship, mainly,' said Craig in quiet thought
ful tones and then, 'Tell me, Jeanette, what impresses you most about the scene?'
A long hesitation; Jeanette felt her answer would arouse only surprised amusement.
'It's the cards,' she murmured awkwardly.
'The cards?' Diane frowned and looked at the pack of playing cards scattered about on the exquisitely tiled floor of the courtyard. 'What do you mean?'
'I think I know.' The slight pressure of Craig's hands on Jeanette's shoulders could almost have been a subtle way of expressing his satisfaction at her reply. 'They have been tossed down, and demonstrate, very forcibly, I think, just how bored those women were.' Jeanette nodded and he went on, 'They're weary of their game — and here you have one smoking a cigarette, another a hookah, while here you have another woman standing over the samovar, making tea. The cards on the floor give the clue as to why these other activities are taking place. It's impressive and beautifully done. I liked it and just had to buy it.'
'Yes, I see it now,' Diane owned, wonderingly. 'It's fascinating, Craig... and look at the bored expressions on the faces of all the other women. What a life!' She laughed up at Craig and again a mischievous light entered her eyes. 'Just imagine being one of three hundred! What would anyone do with three hundred wives?'
'Have a whale of a time, I shouldn't wonder!' exclaimed Mark, at once infected with Diane's laughter.
'Listen who's talking—' It seemed to Jeanette that there was an almost coquettish element in the glance Diane cast at Mark. 'You, who never even look at a woman!'
'I can still use my imagination, I hope!' he retorted, and even Craig had to join in the laughter.
'Whale of a time or not,' he said, his glance straying to Diane, 'one wife would be enough for me.'
'And me,' echoed Mark in suddenly solemn tones. 'Quite enough,' and he turned away, once more to examine the tapestry.
After supper the time was spent out of doors, but soon Diane announced her intention of going to bed. This met with Craig's approval, but his mother seemed disappointed that he and Diane had not gone off somewhere on their own.
'I thought you two would be going for a walk?' She glanced from Diane to Craig. 'It would do you both good - and it's quite early.' She waited hopefully for an agreement, but Diane shook her head.
'There's nothing to stop Craig going for a walk.' She turned to Jeanette, smiling. "You'll go with him and keep him company, won't you?'
Mrs. Fleming bit her lip in vexation, and a flush rose swiftly to Jeanette's cheeks.
'I - I think I shall go to bed, too,' she began when Craig interrupted her.
'I'm sure you'd enjoy a walk,' and although she was well aware that the prudent course was to refuse, Jeanette smilingly agreed to accompany him.
It was a magical Eastern night, spread with that mystic purple radiance which seems always to hover in a Turkish sky. Tall palms swayed, smudging the skyline and tossing their perfume on to the silent breeze so that it mingled with the intoxicating scent of magnolia which already filled the air.
They wandered along the beach, where the faintly silvered glow from a young moon sprinkled the sea with light and tinted the foam as it came gently in. to caress the shore in an almost soundless motion.
Jeanette had never been so profoundly conscious of Craig, had never experienced such turmoil and confusion of mind. Her thoughts dwelt for a space on Diane; she saw her as Craig's wife and became suddenly engulfed in a terrible, unaccountable feeling of despair. She strove to shake it off. Her eyes were drawn irresistibly to Craig, so tall and straight... so out of reach. This was no time for intimacies, and yet something stronger than herself impelled her to say.
'It's beautiful.... I'm so grateful to you, Craig, for inviting me.' She hesitated. 'I've been dying to come,' she confessed. 'I did so want to see the inside of a yali'
'Then why on earth didn't you say so?' He looked down at her almost angrily. 'You could have come any week-end - the proprieties would have been taken care of,' he added on a slightly sardonic note as he saw her sudden change of expression. 'The couple you saw tonight are here all the time. They look after the place when I'm away.' He took her arm, steering her clear of the wet patch of sand into which she was walking. 'You would be quite safe, I assure you.'
She glanced up in surprise, saw his smile of amusement and laughed lightly.
'I know that, but I wouldn't have dreamed of asking to come. You want privacy, and quietness, in order to work on your book; you told me that right at the beginning.'
'And why should your presence hinder my work?' he wanted to know, still regarding her with that hint of amusement. 'You might have been able to assist me with it.'
'I don't think so,' she returned doubtfully, and was just beginning to wonder once again how much her brother had told Craig about her when he said,
'Mark tells me that you have some considerable knowledge of archaeology—'
'Not considerable,' she broke in, flushing. 'Mark must have exaggerated.'
'But you have done some digging?'
'Yes.'
'And you're conversant with many other aspects of the subject - you've done some editing, I believe?'
She nodded.
'I attended several courses at the university. We had a marvellous lecturer.' She mentioned his name and Craig's eyes widened with interest. He not only knew him, but had worked with him on a wonderful find that had been made in London several years previously.
'Then it seems to me that Mark didn't exaggerate,' he commented, and, unexpectedly, 'Would you care to help me, Jeanette?'
Again that indefinable fear, that warning to steer clear of any intimate relationship with Craig.
'I don't know - you see....'
'Yes?' His dark brows lifted questioningly.
'It's so awkward.'
'Is it, Jeanette?' His tone for a moment was gentle, but then he seemed to lose patience. 'What possible excuse can you have for not coming?'
How could she reveal her excuse? In any case, it was not valid, it had no substance. She was not afraid of Craig - but she was afraid of being alone with him. Could she give that as an excuse? She shook her head miserably.
'I'm sorry, Craig, but I'd rather not.'
A long silence, the silence of anger. When he spoke his voice was brittle.
'If I don't end up by doing you an injury it will be a miracle!' His hand was abruptly withdrawn from her arm; Jeanette stopped, her eyes fluttering as she looked up to meet his darkling gaze. She recalled how he had teasingly threatened Diane... but there was nothing teasing in his manner now. Nevertheless, he could not be serious. He probably made the threat as a diversion in order to enjoy her embarrassment. But it seemed he did not want to enjoy her embarrassment, for almost immediately his face softened. 'Very well; forget it if you like, Jeanette, but—' He stood looking down at her, the merest smile touching his. lips. 'I would welcome your help; I really mean that.' They began walking along the shore again and, strangely, the silence between them was not in the least constrained. In fact, Jeanette felt oddly happy, and after a little while, forgetful of those inner warnings, she told him that she would like to help him with the book, after all.
'You would? That's fine. When we get back I'll show you what I'm doing how far I've progressed - and explain what I want. But for the present — would you like some coffee?'
'In one of those little cafes over there? Oh, yes, please!'
Unhurried, and in an atmosphere of harmony and companionship comparable with that which had come to them on the occasion of their visit to Topkapi, they strolled on towards the cafes and the lights.
'Shall we sit outside?' Taking her acceptance for granted, Craig pulled out a chair for her and Jeanette sat down. Life throbbed all around them and Jeanette had that breathless sensation of living in an unreal world, of being somewhere 'off the map'. Just along from them two men sat drjnking coffee and smoking narghiles, and passing to and fro the whole time were the quaint horse-drawn carriages — for no cars were allowed on the island. B
ehind them, gardens filled with exotic plants cast seductive perfumes into the breeze; and away on the far horizon a ship's lights flickered, golden points standing out in the star-filled sky.
'What are you dreaming of?' asked Craig as Jeanette, sipping her coffee, gazed pensively into space. A smile spread and she put down her cup.
'I was thinking that I'm lucky - really being here and seeing all this.'
Craig's eyes followed a passing carriage; he watched it disappear from sight.
'Why the "really"? What does it mean?'
'It was just a — figure of speech.'
'No, Jeanette, it wasn't that. Can't you tell me?'
For some reason Jeanette felt sure he was making a subtle reference to Ned, and now she knew that Mark had discussed her misfortune with Craig, telling him all about it. Had he mentioned, too, her resolve never to marry? - to remain faithful to Ned's memory? She thought he must have done... and now Craig was being sympathetic. He was showing interest, willing to take on the role of father confessor. Strangely, though, she hadn't been thinking of Ned. With a feeling of consternation and guilt she realized that his memory had become dimmer and dimmer. Even his image had faded; she couldn't see his face. Almost frantically she tried to bring it into focus, and failed. To love so deeply and then forget! How wrong it was. Would Ned have forgotten? Jeanette felt sure he would have remembered her for ever, had the positions been reversed. She met Craig's gaze, saw the gravity there, and the inquiring little lift of his brows as he waited patiently for her reply. He it was who had caused her thoughts to stray, but although she made a determined effort to rekindle that first unreasoning resentment against him, she found it quite impossible.
A tremulous little smile came to her lips as she said, on a distinctly apologetic note, that there was nothing to tell. He stiffened slightly and her heart sank. But she could not bring herself to talk of Ned.
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