Waves of Fire

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Waves of Fire Page 5

by Anne Hampson


  How strange that she had not once considered herself as married. Tied, yes, but not irrevocably. The marriage she had always regarded as a sort of tangle in which she had become enmeshed, but one from whose cords she could, with a little manipulation, quite easily escape. How wrong her supposition had proved to be! Perhaps, she reflected unhappily as she mounted the stairs to her room, she should have kept in mind that inflexible streak possessed by her husband, Hadn’t she pleaded in vain on another occasion? - begged him to give her a little more time?

  Mrs. Manou. That Brian should say that to her, and with such bitter emphasis. She would never forgive him, never!

  She sat down on the bed, stared at the pillow, and for a brief moment was tempted to give way to tears. But no, she would not! If this were the depth of Brian s love she could do very well without it. And as for Andreas - she would hate him for the rest of her life! The least he could do was make amends by granting, her the freedom she so desperately desired.

  Her condemnation of both men remained for a while, but inevitably her anger against Brian began gradually to fade and as the days passed she found herself waiting expectantly for a phone call. Surely he would ring; this couldn’t be the end. Hadn’t he chosen her in preference to any of the girls he knew? - loved her sufficiently to want her for his wife? No, this could not be the end, she emphatically told herself. But when the days lengthened into weeks and still there was silence Shani began to despair of ever seeing Brian again. However, she did see him, a month after informing him of the probable delay over obtaining the annulment. She and Jenny had decided to have a meal out and they dined in the Turkish quarter of Nicosia. One couple only were sitting in the restaurant... Brian and an old flame of his, whom he had thrown over soon after meeting Shani. She gave Shani a rather condescending glance not unmixed with triumph; Brian’s glance was startled. He flushed and became absorbed with the contents of his plate. Jenny’s eyes hardened; she steered her friend to a table at the other end of the room - as far away as possible from the couple seated in the intimate, dimly-lit alcove.

  ‘The beast! ’ Jenny was unable to remain silent as she glowered at Brian. ‘You’re better off without him. He’s the island’s biggest flirt!’

  ‘Yes, I’m better off without him.’ Shani looked at her friend, fully aware of Jenny’s puzzlement. Shani had merely said that she and Brian had quarreled and it was only natural that Jenny should be curious as to the reason for the quarrel. This Shani could not disclose, and to her relief Jenny had not pressed her with questions.

  Brian and Debbie were laughing. So swift had been his recovery! How could strong and sincere love fade so quickly? Strong and sincere love. An abrupt, involuntary switch of her thoughts found her recalling what Andreas had said about searching for her. Desire, it would appear, was far stronger than Brian’s so-called love. But what of her own feelings for Brian? Hurt she undoubtedly was, seeing him sitting there with another girl. Her mouth trembled, but she held her head proudly erect, and throughout the meal she kept up an animated conversation with her friend, assuming a careless pose.

  But how her heart ached! From the nagging pain of jealousy emerged a sudden appreciation of her husband’s feelings. His jealousy stemmed of course from the mere desire for possession, which was far removed from the spiritual love which Shani felt for Brian. That she should be feeling much more desolate than this did

  not at present strike her; all she knew was that the dull ache of jealousy settling upon her excluded all but the vision of a future unbearably lonely and bleak.

  Her glance strayed to the alcove; Brian was still laughing, yet now Shani sensed his gaiety was forced. On his departure half an hour later he nodded casually, but Shani somehow formed the impression that his indifference afforded him scant satisfaction.

  And the following day he did ring. Full of apologies, he asked to see her.

  ‘Let me take you out? Do you still have all day Tuesday off?’ She murmured ‘yes’ and he continued, ‘We’ll take a trip to Kyrenia, get in some swimming and then dine out in the evening.’ She made no comment and he urged on a note of contrition, ‘Please, Shani.... I was a fool to go off at the deep end like that. Forgive me. Come out and let’s talk about this damnable affair without rancour on either side.’

  She had not harboured rancour - at least not at first -she could have reminded him, but she refrained. She had longed for a reconciliation and here it was offered. No sense in antagonizing Brian again. She accepted his invitation and he came for her in his car. He had three days’ leave and had arranged to stay with friends in a small village not far from Loutras.

  The drive began in silence, but after the inevitable period of awkwardness Brian began to talk, determined to make amends for his unsympathetic behaviour on their last meeting. Shani soon forgave him ... but where was the thrill of making up? - the excitement of regaining his love? Something seemed to be lacking -something noticed by Shani but evidently not by Brian,

  for he was in the best of spirits.

  Later, after their swim, they lay on the sands. Shani regarded him broodingly, wondering at the void within her. The pardon was of her own volition, the fullness of which she could readily bestow, but memory ... ? Memory was a dangerous and destructive thing. And as she lay there, her slender body darker by far than the golden sands around her, Shani owned with dismay and bitter reluctance that she would never be able to forget Brian’s condemnation and lack of understanding.

  What exactly did she feel for him? she asked herself. If one forgave there must be allied with that forgiveness the desire - and the ability - to forget, otherwise a bitter rankling remained. Perfection in her relationship with the man she would marry was essential to Shani, whether her husband was to be Brian or some other man she would meet in the future. Some other man! Was it only a month since Brian had occupied all her thoughts? - had been the only one for her? Impatiently she cast off these troublesome meditations and gave herself up to the pleasures immediately offered. Diving into the water, she found it warm and calm, gleaming turquoise close to the shore, while in the far distance it changed to a lighter blue, cut by the serpentine channels of purest crystal flecked with silver.

  She came up to Brian and they floated side by side, talking. Then Shani took possession of the li-lo and lay staring up at the sky, cloudless and shimmering and flushed with translucent gold. On leaving the water they had the beach entirely to themselves.

  ‘The sea’s fabulous here.’ Brian dried his body, spread the towel on the sands and lay down on it. Shani did the same. Moments passed; the only sounds were the murmur of waves touching the shore and the shriek of a bird circling over the raised beach that formed the bare and rocky backshore.

  ‘Can we talk now?’ Brian’s eyes were dark and contrite. ‘I’m sorry, truly I am. And the other evening,’ he added hastily, a hint of colour rising, ‘I didn’t enjoy it one scrap. I’d much rather have been with you.’

  There was a whole month when he could have been with her— Deliberately Shani checked her thoughts. If she and Brian were to pick up the threads there could be no recriminations; she must be prepared to forget, make a supreme effort to overcome her difficulty in doing so.

  ‘I haven’t done anything about the annulment.’ Scooped sand trickled through her long brown fingers. She watched it pensively.

  ‘My fault,’ owned Brian, reaching for her hand. ‘You’d naturally feel there was no immediate hurry.’ He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. Shani could not respond. Why should her thoughts be with her husband? Why should she choose this time to dwell on his admission that he had ‘searched and searched’? ‘You’ll set the ball rolling now?’

  ‘If you want me to,’ she answered vaguely, a sudden frown darkening her brow.

  ‘Certainly I want you to.’ He lay on his side, resting on one elbow, regarding her with tenderness. Her doubts began to dissolve and she felt a little happier. Brian wanted her, and that was all that mattered.

  ‘I’ve anoth
er day off on Monday. I’ll go into Nicosia and engage a lawyer.’

  ‘Good girl! As you said, there shouldn’t be any difficulty.’

  ‘There’ll be a delay, owing to my being abroad.’

  ‘How long?’ and when she shook her head, ‘No of course you can’t possibly say.’

  ‘It’ll take a few months, I expect,’ she ventured, and

  received immediate reassurance from his smile.

  ‘I can wait, although it won’t be easy. However,

  we’ll be seeing each other in the meantime.’

  She moved closer to him and his arm went round her waist.

  ‘We’ll have a longer engagement, that’s all ’ she murmured, lifting her face.

  He kissed her tenderly.

  ‘I was a fool, Shani. Forgive me, darling.’

  She had forgiven him, but she conveyed the message only with her eyes, for all at once speech had become difficult. A certain strain had entered into her relationship with Brian and Shani was greatly troubled by it. Meanwhile in the hospital Andreas treated her with the familiar impersonal coolness; she was no different lrom any other of the nurses. Lydia, on the other hand was - as Jenny crudely put it - making headway by leaps and bounds.

  ‘She’ll get him,’ she declared emphatically one day as she and Shani were standing at her room window watching Lydia on her way to the villa in which Andreas lived. The door opened on the instant of her knocking and Jenny declared he had been eagerly awaiting his visitor.

  ‘I wonder what she does in there?’ Shani said musingly, and Jenny’s brows lifted. ‘I mean,’ she added hastily, ‘Lydia could be doing some clerical

  work for Mr. Manou, just as she did for Dr. Schofield.’

  ‘She could,’ Jenny agreed laughingly. ‘But it’s most unlikely. She’s made a hit, that’s easy to see. Whether or not he’s serious it’s difficult to say, but she certainly is.’

  Shrugging, Shani made no comment. It would simplify matters if Andreas were to fall in love, he would then be as eager as she to obtain an annulment.

  ‘Mr. Manou’s in a foul mood.’ Jenny came up to her friend just before the operation was due to begin.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’

  ‘I think he’s fairly certain, before he even starts, that the young man is going to be a vegetable.’ The little Cypriot nurse spoke before Shani had time to do so. ‘I heard him talking to Matron about it, and he seemed very depressed. The young man has a wife and two children, as you know. ’ She shook her head sadly. ‘No wonder he’s in this furious mood. All doctors hate motor-cycles.’

  ‘Naturally,’ said Jenny on a grim, half angry note.

  ‘Look at the work they’d be saved if motor-cycles had never been invented.’ She threw a deprecating glance at her friend. ‘I don’t envy you. If he’s in this mood before he starts he’s going to be far from pleasant to work with.’

  And Jenny had not exaggerated. On entering the theatre Andreas bade Shani a curt ‘Good morning, Sister’ without even sparing her a glance. He scrubbed up, his face harsh

  and taut. As Crystalla, the junior theatre nurse, helped him

  into his gown she ventured to smile at him - and received a scowl for her trouble. His obvious ill-humour only served to increase the tenseness of the atmosphere and as Shani caught the glance of the anesthetist she knew that he too

  was wondering what Andreas would be like after several hours in the theatre.

  His orders were snapped out; he glowered at Shani for no reason at all and when, her nerves all keyed up, she made the mistake of handing him the wrong instrument he flung it across the floor.

  Hours went by, hours fraught with tension; on Andreas’s brow great beads of perspiration would appear, to be mopped away by Crystalla who was standing by his side.

  Suddenly Shani’s attention was arrested by the gravity on the anesthetist’s face as he checked the patient’s heartbeats. He spoke urgently to Andreas; speed was vital if a collapse were to be avoided. A soft oath was the surgeon’s immediate response and Shani realized that on beginning the operation Andreas had cherished the hope that a miracle could be performed. He was now having to admit that the patient’s brain would never function properly, that he would be a liability to his wife and family for the rest of his days.

  At last it was all over and Shani watched his expression. It held a mixture of anger and frustration. Defeat was something Andreas Manou could not bear to face.

  The following day he looked through Shani as they passed in the corridor. The slight was unintentional, she knew, but the fact that Lydia witnessed it had a strangely irritating effect on Shani. Later, they met again in the corridor; Shani hurried past, but this time Andreas called to her.

  ‘Sister - one moment.’

  She turned, her eyes flickering to the far end of the corridor. Matron was there, talking to Dr. Gharlambedes. Shani had to extend respect to her superior.

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘I want you at my house this evening. I’ve something to discuss with you.’ His tones were soft but penetrating as he

  added, ‘Be there at seven - prompt!’

  Shani presented herself at five minutes to seven. The door was ajar and he bade her enter. Her heart raced, and her legs were not acting normally either, she suddenly discovered on entering the sitting-room. Had he received a letter from her lawyer? It would appear so - and it was just her luck that it should come at this time, when, he was so depressed about the operation.

  ‘Sit down.’ He waved a hand, indicating a chair, and she sank into it. ‘What’s all this about an annulment?’ he demanded, just as if it had never previously been discussed. ‘You’ve heard from my lawyer?’

  ‘I’ve asked you a question,’ he said, an edge to his voice. Shani was distinctly put out by his attitude. She stammered awkwardly,

  ‘I’ve already t-told you I want my freedom.’

  ‘And I told you,’ he pronounced with emphasis, ‘that we stay married.’ He stood with his back to the window, a dark figure with unmoving features. ‘Obviously you haven’t given any thought to my suggestion that we try, that we live together?’

  She stared at him astounded.

  ‘We’re strangers,’ she exclaimed. ‘How can you expect me to live with you?’

  ‘We’re husband and wife, Shani.’ A voice quite soft, and yet Shani sensed a quality of ruthlessness about this formidable foreigner that set her nerves tingling. He reminded her again, after all these years, of an animal about to spring - an insidious calculating animal waiting to forestall any self-defensive move. ‘You and I are tied irrevocably, I told you that. We’re bound, Shani until one of us dies.’

  Involuntarily she shook her head, as if the idea hurt. Her throat felt dry and she coughed to clear it.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asked, surprising her by his perception.

  ‘Yes, please— Sherry,’ she added as he was about to ask what she preferred.

  A deep sense of unreality swept over her. This man’s forceful personality, his quiet strength ... his determination to remain married to her when he must know that was absolutely impossible. All these threw her into a state where reasoning became an effort. Away from Andreas everything appeared uncomplicated; in his presence she saw only difficulties ahead. Why had he entered her life? Why had he ever set eyes on her, desiring her from the very first moment? But having seen her, why hadn’t his ardour cooled in all these years? She looked into his face. Lean and dark, it was a proud face, and strong; handsome too in a primitive sort of way. Within her an emotion quickened, stirring her senses in a manner that thrilled even while it terrified.

  Shocked by this new sensation, she averted her head, wondering what strange powers this dark unfathomable Greek possessed. Her glass was handed to her; the drink gave her heart, infused her with the courage to inquire once again if he had heard from her lawyer.

  ‘I received a letter this afternoon. That’s why you’re here.’ He drank deeply, then stood stari
ng into the glassy for a moment. ‘You’re wasting both your time and your money.’ He paused, waiting for her to look up. ‘We’re married, and the sooner you become resigned to that the better.’

  Her pulse fluttered. Andreas was so confident, so cool about it all. And yet what could he do?

  ‘The - the lawyer said an annulment would be

  simple.’ Her eyes, so large and expressive, were faintly pleading. ‘I want my freedom, Andreas. You forced me into this marriage and you can’t possibly expect me to stay with you - not without love.’ Frowning as those last words were uttered, she wondered at the haggard lines appearing on her husband’s face. The result of yesterday’s frustration? But no, this was not frustration. More like anguish and a deeply penetrating hurt - which was of course ridiculous. Andreas Manou would be the last man to suffer anguish and hurt.

  ‘What did you tell this lawyer of yours?’ he asked, ignoring her words.

  ‘Everything; I had to.’

  ‘What is everything?’

  ‘I said you made me marry you by threatening Father with exposure - and of course I said we had never lived together. That’s my strength as regards getting an annulment.’

  ‘Is it now? How little you know, my dear. Did you tell this man who I was?’ he added before she could speak.

  ‘I couldn’t do anything else.’ She took another drink. ‘I’m sorry to do this, but I must have my freedom.’ Andreas was a famous surgeon; in every way his reputation was high. Naturally he would not wish anything of an unsavoury nature to touch his name. But he should have thought of that when he forced her into a union which had no possible chance of success.

  ‘And your lawyer told you an annulment would be simple.’ His eyes were cold as steel, his jaw hard and flexed. She searched his face as he stood there, sunk into the depths of preoccupation, his slim lithe body framed in the window. Was he facing defeat? Certainly he was not accepting it. That tingling sensation returned as Shani’s gaze moved to rest on the fingers holding his glass. Muscular and sensitive, they gripped the stem so firmly that she actually steeled herself for the breakage. It did not come. Placing the glass on the table, Andreas advanced towards her chair and stood there, his height overpowering. She looked up, moved by some irresistible force to meet that penetrating gaze, and as they stared at one another Shani knew again that profound, all-consuming emotion and the colour swept into her cheeks. Admiration flickered for an instant, but the harshness remained. No, not a sign of defeat in those dark and wide-set eyes, just firmness and resolution, and a confidence that troubled her greatly. ‘You’re obviously ignorant of the fact that lawyers here are reputed to know little of the English laws?’ She did not answer and he went on, ‘This man you’ve engaged doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’

 

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