by Anne Hampson
‘Madam, I would give you a good price.’
‘The lady doesn’t want to sell her ring,’ snapped Charitos firmly.
‘It was my grandmother’s,’ submitted Toni.
‘I have a client - an American lady - who wants just such a ring, one with genuine old-fashioned setting. She would give you a very good price—’
‘The lady isn’t selling!’ Charitos looked angrily at the man. ‘We came into your shop to buy, not to sell!’ Undaunted, the man named a price. In spite of herself Toni’s eyes opened wide.
‘It isn’t worth that!’
‘I know, but this lady collects rings with these settings — she’s a sort of crank, as you might say. A widow with more money than sense.’
Noticing Toni’s expression, Charitos gave a hushed little gasp.
‘You’re not considering this man’s offer?’ he asked slowly.
She shook her head in a dazed manner. The money would clear her debt to Daros— Her brow creased as she began a mental calculation. Yes, it would clear her debt to her husband, pay all the air fares to take the children home, and there should be some money over. She could give the children a few outings, buy presents for them to take home to Pam....
‘No,’ she said firmly at last. ‘I can’t sell my ring.’
The man raised the price and she stared at her hand, sorely tempted, despite the sentimental value attached to the ring.
‘Toni,’ said Charitos gravely, putting his hand over hers as if
by covering the ring he could put all thought of selling it out of her mind, ‘why are you considering parting with it? You’re short of money?’ His words were low, a mere whisper in her ear. She had given away her plight and there was nothing to be gained by prevarication. She nodded and admitted that she was short of money. The man waited, straining his ears, but his face fell as Charitos said,
‘The ring is not for sale,’ and, taking Toni’s arm, he steered her out into the street again.
‘Charitos,’ she began, turning to him, ‘I must give the matter some thought—’
‘You’re not selling.’ His tone was edged with anger, his eyes were burning. ‘How do you come to be short of money? Your husband is one of the wealthiest men on this island!’
‘I overspent,’ she admitted, wondering why she should be experiencing this indignation at the way Charitos was condemning her husband. ‘After my allowance was gone I then ran up a couple of bills—‘
‘Why did you have to run up bills?’ he interrupted angrily. ‘What were they for?’
‘My fare to England, for one thing, I had to have the bill sent to Daros.’
He frowned in puzzlement.
‘But he paid it, surely?’
Toni shook her head, wishing with all her heart she could put an end to this conversation.
‘I should have known he wouldn’t pay it. You see, I’d asked him for the fare, and he said I must pay it out of my own money.’ She should now explain about the five thousand pounds, but Toni wanted to extricate herself, not become more deeply involved.
But Charitos found no excuse for Daros, and in the end declared that his meanness, and his refusal to accept responsibility for her debts, only went to prove that he did not consider himself really married.
‘A man might be angry at the idea of his wife getting into debt, but he’d pay in the end,’ Charitos went on wrathfully. ‘There’s no excuse for Daros - and especially as the money for your fare would have been no more than a few drachmae to someone in his position!’ At last Toni managed to change the subject, but as they drove home, both rather quiet, she felt she must sell her ring and get herself out of debt. Her aim to punish Daros had fallen very much short of the mark, and she prudently admitted that to continue in her efforts would be disastrous. Far better to cut her losses and begin all over again, making sure to keep herself out of debt in future.
‘Toni,’ said Charitos as he stopped the car at the top of her road, ‘about your ring. You’re not going to sell it?’
‘I think I must.’
‘Well ... I’ve been trying to figure out what can be done, and I’ve reached a solution.’ He hesitated a while before continuing, ‘I’ll buy the ring, Toni, and then, later, you can buy it back. I’d offer to lend you money, but I know you’d refuse.’ He took her hand in his. ‘Accept my proposition, darling. There’s absolutely nothing wrong in it.’
She was too full to speak for the moment; was it fair to accept this offer? Charitos was travelling too fast for her and she did not want him to be hurt. What were her feelings for him? Confused, and unhappy at the plight she was in, Toni shook her head and said it would be far less complicated for her to sell the ring to the jeweller.
‘Which means,’ he said with a touch of bitterness, ‘that you’re not sure of your feelings for me.’
She turned to him, her face troubled.
‘I’m not sure,’ she confessed. ‘I like you, Charitos, more than any other man I’ve met ... but I don’t know if it’s love I feel for you.’
A silence entered the car. They both sat there, staring ahead at the scene of calm blue sea and a palm-fringed beach, at the great circular tomb on the headland, and the little boats bobbing about, their coloured sails reflected in the water. At last Charitos said,
‘Let me buy the ring, Toni. It will then be there should you ever want it back. If you don’t, then my mother can have it.’ He smiled at her and she saw that he was resigned, should her feelings for him not develop in the way he wished. ‘You would not be happy knowing it had gone to a stranger.’
‘I’m sure I could buy it back.’ She hesitated, but his argument had already swayed her. ‘It’s very kind of you, Charitos, and I’m really most grateful. But you mustn’t give me what that man offered,’ she added with decision. ‘It was far more than it’s worth.’
‘But that amount of money would make you comfortable?’ She thought of her parents, wondering if they could let her have the money for the fares. Perhaps not.
‘I can’t let you buy it at that price,’ she began uneasily. ‘It wouldn’t be fair.’
‘Toni dear, that amount of money means nothing to me. But if you’re troubled, then consider the ring as pawned,’ he added, laughing at her horrified expression. ‘You’ll redeem it one day -and I’ll not charge you a drachma interest!’
She had to respond to his mood, but she became serious as she thanked him for the cheque which he immediately made out.
‘I don’t like taking this,’ he sighed as she gave him the ring, ‘but I think I know you well enough not to start an argument. There would be one, wouldn’t there?’ he added, and Toni determinedly nodded her head.
‘You must take the ring, Charitos, otherwise I can’t accept this cheque.’
‘Purely business, eh? Oh, well, never mind. I still love you.’ He gave her a kiss on the cheek, then reached across and opened the car door for her.
‘Good-bye, and thank you again - for everything.’ She waved; the car began to move, and Toni turned into the lane. The sandstone house was visible, nestling against the rocks, its arches draped with flowers. The children were playing in the garden and as she drew nearer they saw her.
‘Aunt Toni!’ they shouted in unison, running to meet her as she reached the gate. ‘You’ve been gone a long while,’ complained Louise. ‘Take us with you next time, please.’
‘We wouldn’t have minded if Uncle Daros had been in,’ said David with the tactlessness of youth. ‘But he was out as well.’
‘He’s in now, though,’ Robbie informed her. ‘Just one minute before you, he came in, but he couldn’t play because
he’s got some work to do.’
‘A lady rang up and Maria couldn’t understand her, so I went on the telephone.’ David’s chest filled out with selfimportance. ‘She wanted Uncle Daros, but I told her he wasn’t in.’
‘She was English?’
‘Yes. I asked her name, but she said she’d ring Uncle Daros later.’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘She must be a friend of Uncle Daros. Will she be coming to see him, do you think?’
‘I don’t know, Robbie ... she might.’
A Irown creased Toni’s brow as she went up to her room. Olivia ...? It sounded like it. Would Daros forgive her, and take her back? If so the girl would have to be satisfied with an affair, thought Toni with malice. Cheek! - ringing up her ex-fiance after he had married someone else!
‘It might not be Olivia,’ said Toni to her reflection as she stood before the mirror. ‘And in any case, what do you care?’
After having a wash and changing her dress Toni went downstairs again and prepared the children’s tea. They played cricket in the garden afterwards and then, with darkness falling so quickly, they had to go inside, where they sat by the window playing card games. Daros eventually entered the room and all three children eagerly urged him to join them.
‘Very well, but for one game only. It’s almost bedtime.’ He sat down and Robbie gave him his cards. Daros asked who was
scoring.
‘We’ve no pencil, so we’re not bothering,’ Louise obligingly informed him.
‘You have to know your score.’
‘Go and fetch my handbag, Robbie. I have a pencil in there.’
Of course the pencil had to be at the bottom of the bag; it came to light only after Toni had taken out various letters and receipts, and other items which invariably find their way into a woman’s handbag.
‘Shall I take it back now?’ asked Robbie.
‘No; I’ll take it when I go up.’
Twenty minutes later Daros declared the game at an end; it was already past the children’s bedtime. Without argument the cards were put away and for the next half hour Toni was occupied with the task of bathing the children and getting them to bed.
‘Can we have a story?’ coaxed Louise, as the three sat, all shiny-nosed and dad in pyjamas, having their biscuits and milk.
She obliged and then, after seeing each one into bed, she went downstairs, intending to have an hour’s quiet read before dinner. Daros was on the verandah; he turned slowly on hearing her enter the room and she saw that he held her cheque in his hand.
‘What’s this?’ His voice was soft and vibrant, the deep-throated snarl of a tiger ready to pounce.
‘My cheque.’ Her eyes went automatically to the spot where she had been sitting. ‘I must have dropped it. Thank you...’ Her voice trailed off into silence as she noted his expression; the hand extended to receive the cheque fell to her side. ‘Is
anything the matter?’ Eyes that were embers of smouldering fury bored right into her.
‘What are you doing with a cheque from Charitos Leonti?’ He stood as her accuser - but of what was he accusing her? Bewildered, she could only stare for a while, puzzled by his manner.
‘He gave it to me this afternoon. It’s for—’
‘This afternoon? Is that where you’ve been - with him?’
‘Yes ... but what is this about? We’ve been to Rhodes, sightseeing.’
Had she said she’d been to the moon he could not have evinced greater amazement.
‘You stand there and tell me you’ve been out with a man, sightseeing! You left three young children to get into any mischief - or perhaps come to some harm?’ Toni’s eyes sparkled dangerously,
‘You knew I’d been out!’
‘The children said you were out, but I concluded that you’d gone into Lindos to do some shopping.’
‘Well, I hadn’t. I went to Rhodes - for the first time since I arrived on this island! And what right, may I ask, have you to object?’ He had not yet objected ... but he meant to, and strongly, judging by his expression. Let him get on with it; she could measure swords with him if that was what he wanted. ‘You’ve been out all day?’
‘I met Charitos at eleven o’clock this morning.’
‘And returned at teatime. You’ve left those children for more than five hours.’
‘They’re not babies.’ Her voice was crisp and edged with
defiance. ‘May I have my cheque, please?’
Her coolness was a mistake; it served to release his fury. Stepping up to her, he took her face in his hand, holding it in a brutal grasp from which she could not at once free herself.
‘This cheque,’ he snarled, his face close to hers. ‘How did you come by it?’
Toni managed to twist herself free, at the same time deciding it were better to explain at once. But on the point of doing so, she was suddenly tempted to bring him to shame.
‘I have to get money from somewhere!’ she flashed, ‘seeing that you won’t give me any!’
No sound other than the nocturnal chirping of the crickets in the olive tree outside, and the mellowed tick of the French clock on the white marble mantelshelf. Watching her husband, Toni’s thoughts went to his grandfather, and she saw again that look of fire in his eyes, shining through a glaze of mad desire. She thought, a hand going automatically to her throat, ‘Is this one going to attempt murder too?’
At last Daros spoke, with a softness more threatening than any violent outburst.
‘It’s payment for something, obviously ... but what?’
The silence of amazement followed this imputation; and then Toni lifted her hand. But before she could carry out her intended attack Daros had seized her wrist and, whether by accident or not, he twisted it so that she cried out as the pain shot right up her arm. ‘Leave go of me!’
‘When I’m ready - and when you’ve told me how you came by this cheque.’ He waved it in her face. ‘Whatwas itfor?’
‘As you’ve already reached your own conclusions there doesn’t seem to be need for further words. And don’t shout, if you please!’
An added pressure on her wrist brought the tears to her eyes, but this time she did not utter a sound. Daros was clearly inflamed; the tan of his face was tinged with crimson and the blood raced through a vein in his temple.
‘If you knew just what danger you are in you’d curb your defiant impulses and answer my question! ’
The tallness of him against her and the agonizing grip of his hand on her wrist; those hard eyes kindled with fire and darkly threatening, the evil twist of his mouth and the rigid line of his jaw.... There was warning and enough in all this, but she too was in a furious mood and she responded fiercely,
‘What answer do you want? You’ve already implied that I’m a - a—’
‘Well?’ No answer from Toni, whose colour rose at the contemptuous glance he threw at her. ‘Aren’t you?’
‘You’re hateful!’ she exclaimed, quivering with fury. ‘What sort of a mind have you to reach a conclusion like that?’ She was on the point of tears, and beginning to feel unequal to the conflict owing to a sudden inexplicable dejection that had come upon her. To be branded a wanton! The knowledge of her husband’s opinion robbed her of all fight and brought a gripping ache to her throat. And because of her hurt she became angry with herself. Why should she care what he thought of her? Hadn’t she gone out of her way to appear mercenary and conceited, living up to his concept of the average English girl? And she had meant to do much more—A wan twist of her lips accompanied the recollection that her ‘emancipated strength’
had never once been brought into use.
‘What have you done with that five thousand pounds?’ asked Daros quietly at last.
Should she tell him? He probably would not believe her. He hadn’t done so over the question of the bill she had run up in order to buy presents for Pam and her family.
‘That’s my business.’
Daros’s response to that was to tear up the cheque and lay the pieces on the table. Toni’s gaze moved from it to the blue scar appearing on her wrist. Daros also looked at it. He seemed to have shed all remnants of his fury, but something in his calm and quiet manner caused her no small amount of trepidatio
n and in fact she discovered to her astonishment that her heart raced with the most uncomfortable speed.
‘You’ll accept no money from Charitos Leonti - or from any other man. Is that clear?’
Her eyes were as hard and bright as glass.
‘I absolutely refuse to continue any longer without a single drachma in my pocket.’ Her voice matched his, yet its firm inflection was meant to impress. Daros waited with interest for his wife to continue. ‘I shall take a job.’
‘With three children to look after?’ His black brows rose questioningly.
‘When they go home.’
‘My wife does not go out to work.’
She looked up, sighing impatiently.
‘Have you ever been without a drachma in your pocket?’
‘I live within my means.’ He looked straight at her. ‘And I don’t hoard.’
That fell on deaf ears. She reasserted her intention of going out to work.
‘I can work in Lindos - in Mr. Efthimiou’s shop.’
‘You appear to have made preliminary arrangements?’
‘The matter was discussed between us. The tourists like English assistants.’
‘I forbid you to work. Do you really think I’d have my wife employed here, in my own village, by the proprietor of a souvenir shop?’
His arrogant tones also fell on deaf ears.
‘You can’t do anything about it!’
‘No? My dear girl, when I’ve given Efthimiou a ring tomorrow morning he’ll very soon look elsewhere for an assistant.’
Toni’s dejection came upon her again; she spread her hands, admitting to a helplessness she had never known before.
‘I can’t manage without money.’ She swallowed, to rid her voice of its huskiness. ‘I can’t even buy myself a pair of stockings. You must give me some money!’
A smothered sigh of exasperation from Daros, and Toni was sorely tempted to take a chance and tell him what she had done with the settlement. But she felt sure he would sneer, and accuse her of lying.
‘Very well,’ he said at length. ‘You’ll receive your allowance in the morning, and it will be paid regularly. But mind how you handle it in future,’
