by Anne Mather
‘What do you think?’ she asked, in a whisper. ‘Should I do it?’
‘Work for the Thiarchos corporation, you mean?’ Beth was purposely vague.
‘Of course.’ Linda was impatient.
‘That’s up to you.’
‘But do you think it’s a good idea?’
Beth shrugged, finding it difficult to imagine putting her future in Constantine Thiarchos’s hands. ‘It might work out,’ she said casually. ‘It depends whether you want to continue your association with the family.’
Linda pressed her lips together. ‘Because of what Tony said, you mean?’
‘No.’ Beth didn’t want to be accused of taking sides. ‘If you think you’d like to work for Tony’s father, then you do it. You can always resign, if you don’t like it.’
‘Yes, I can, can’t I?’ Linda nodded. ‘And I have—sort of changed my opinion of his grandfather. He’s not at all like I expected. And Tony’s father is really nice.’
‘You think so?’
‘Don’t you?’
Beth bent her head, and pretended to be brushing an insect from the weathered wood of the table. ‘I—hardly know him,’ she lied uncomfortably. ‘Oh—here he is with your lemonade.’
Alex had got another lemonade for himself too, and, seating himself opposite them again, he pushed the glass towards Beth. ‘Would you like to change your mind?’
Beth took a steadying breath. ‘I—no. Thank you.’ She paused, and then, realising Linda was expecting her to say something more, she gave a tight smile. ‘But—it was—very nice.’
‘Very nice,’ agreed Alex, drawing the glass back to him, and lifting it to his lips. He tipped his head back as he drank, and Beth’s eyes were drawn to the strong brown column of his throat. The muscles moved rhythmically as he drank, and a wave of heat invaded her groin. Lord, had she really wrapped her arms around that same throat last night? Had she held him, and kissed him, and let him explore every intimate inch of her body with his mouth?
His eyes returning to hers had her making a belated attempt to hide her fascination, and, as if to gave her time to gather her scattered emotions, Alex spoke to Linda again.
‘Tell me about your relationship with Tony,’ he said, in a soft voice. ‘I’m not prying. I just want to know a little more about the last few months of my son’s life.’
Linda bit her lip. ‘What do you want to know?’
Alex shrugged. ‘Anything you like.’
‘You want to know if I was responsible for him taking drugs, don’t you?’ Her sudden outburst was unexpected, particularly after what she had been saying to Beth in his absence, and Alex looked taken aback.
‘No,’ he replied at last, meeting her resentful eyes with calm deliberation. ‘Beth—’ He hesitated over the name, and then went on more forcefully, ‘Beth’s told me that he’d kicked the habit before you and he became—well, before you got together.’
‘Yes, well—that’s true.’
‘Did I say it wasn’t?’
‘No.’
But Linda didn’t sound so convincing now, and Beth wondered if she was having second thoughts, in light of what she had learned—or thought she had learned—of Constantine Thiarchos.
‘OK.’ Alex hesitated, and then proceeded cautiously, ‘I can’t deny I was appalled, when—when Beth told me what you had told her. Was that why you kicked against getting involved with the family? Because you thought we’d blame you?’
‘Well, it did occur to me.’
‘Hmm.’ Alex frowned. ‘But I gather that wasn’t the only reason.’
Linda sniffed. ‘No.’
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
Linda shook her head. ‘Not really.’
‘Why?’ Alex was painstakingly gentle. ‘You’re not afraid to tell me, are you?’
Linda sniffed again. ‘Of course not.’
‘Then what?’
‘It’s not easy.’ She glanced at Beth again. ‘I don’t even know if I believe it any more.’
‘Believe what?’
Beth was aware of Alex’s growing impatience, though he had himself grimly in control. But she could feel his frustration, sense how he was feeling. She didn’t ask herself how she knew. That would necessitate admitting exactly how involved with him she was. But, for reasons she preferred not to dwell upon, she touched Linda’s arm.
‘I think you ought to tell—Tony’s father—everything you told me,’ she said softly. ‘He deserves to know.’
‘Do you think so?’ Linda licked her lips. ‘But what if—what if Tony was lying? What if the letters didn’t say what he said they did?’
Beth could tell from the way Alex’s fingers clamped about his glass that he was finding it incredibly difficult to stifle his reactions. And, because she had started this, Beth had to go on.
‘What if they did?’ she countered, squeezing Linda’s hand. ‘It might help—help him to understand Tony’s—desperation.’
Alex’s features were rigid now, and Beth guessed what it must be costing him to remain silent. But the wrong move could destroy what little confidence there was between him and his daughter-in-law, and, meeting his dark gaze, she saw he understood.
‘I gather you’re talking about the letters my father sent to Tony,’ he ventured quietly, and Linda’s eyes widened.
‘You know about them?’
‘I know of them,’ corrected Alex evenly. ‘Were they a problem?’
Linda swallowed. ‘Tony thought so.’ She paused. ‘They always upset him. He—he used to read them to me, and—and they did sound horrible. But they were in Greek. I never really knew what they said.’
Alex said a word that was intelligible in any language, and then, after a muttered apology, he put his lemonade glass aside. ‘Do you still have these letters?’ he asked, making a determined effort to keep his tone neutral, and Linda gnawed at her lower lip.
‘Not all of them.’
‘But you do have some?’
‘I have the one that came the week before—before Tony died,’ said Linda reluctantly. ‘He—he used to burn them. But I found it—and one other—in his holdall.’
Alex wet his lips. ‘Do you have them with you?’
‘I—I may do.’
‘Do you?’
Just for an instant, Alex’s control slipped, and, responding to it, Linda adopted a sulky expression. ‘Why do you want to know?’
Alex took a deep breath. ‘Because I’d like to see them,’ he said, after a moment. ‘Please. I need to know what my father said.’
Linda looked at Beth. ‘They are Tony’s letters,’ she said, as if seeking her support, but, remembering her own dealings with Constantine Thiarchos, Beth couldn’t give it.
‘Tony’s dead,’ she said gently. ‘What harm can it do?’
A great deal, she thought privately, judging by Alex’s expression, but she couldn’t let him down.
Linda pursed her lips. ‘Well—if you think so.’
‘I do,’ said Beth, giving Alex a fleeting look and glimpsing his gratitude. ‘Do you have them with you?’
‘I suppose so. I remember putting them in my wallet when—when I went through Tony’s things. They’re probably still there.’
‘At the villa?’ enquired Alex evenly, and she nodded. ‘Good.’ His smile was tight. ‘Perhaps you’d show me when we get back?’
CHAPTER TEN
BETH sat in the first-class compartment of the London express and stared unseeingly at the fields and hedges flashing past the windows. It was a vastly different landscape from the one she had enjoyed so briefly in Greece, but appealing none the less. If she had had any interest in it, she conceded. Right now, she could have been sitting several miles up in an aeroplane for all the notice she was taking of her surroundings.
The steward had been very solicitous. When she refused his offer of a full English breakfast, he had suggested a lightly boiled egg. And, although for once her appetite was practically non-existent, she had mana
ged to eat enough of it to satisfy him. The coffee had been hot and welcome as well.
But her thoughts were all turned inward. She was blind to the passing scenery because she had too much else to think about. The rain-washed hedges of an unseasonable August could not compete with Linda’s revelations. The flooded fields were just a fleeting blur. When you were contemplating emotional suicide, you didn’t tend to think about the view.
Suicide…
The word haunted her, she thought. And why had she thought of that particular word, when so many others could have fitted the charge? What she was planning had more to do with saving someone’s sanity. Her own private feelings were a very secondary thing.
But even so, she had no real conviction that what she was intending was the right thing. It might be the moral thing; the honest thing. But was it the right thing? She felt the baby move inside her, and pressed an instinctive hand to her belly. This was her baby, as well as Alex’s, she reminded herself tensely. Just because it had been conceived without his permission or his knowledge, and kept secret for those reasons, did not mean she owed him anything.
Or did she? Hadn’t she always felt a certain guilt every time she considered what she was depriving him of? He might not like what she had done, but in the present circumstances she didn’t think he would care about the ethics of the situation. He had lost his son, his only offspring. And she could offer him—what? A replacement? No, not a replacement, she amended swiftly. Nothing and no one could replace Tony in his affections. Tony was his first-born son; he was unique. But she could offer him the compensation of another child, a child of his blood. A child who might give him a reason to go on living.
To go on living!
The bald horror of that statement was frightening. She couldn’t conceive that Alex was even contemplating the alternative, but according to Linda he was. He was just a shadow of the man he had been, she had told Beth on the phone two days ago. He wasn’t eating; he had lost weight. And, according to his manservant, he was drinking himself into oblivion.
Even now, Beth found it hard to believe. Alex had always seemed such a strong man, a man full of life and vitality. Tony’s death had hit him hard, but he had appeared to be coping with it. He had handled the whole business with remarkable fortitude, and until Linda had shown him those letters he had seemed more concerned about her future than his own.
Of course, Beth had known nothing about what was in the letters. She had had her suspicions, of course. But her position had been such that there was no way she could get involved. Besides, she hadn’t seen Alex alone, since that morning they had sat and talked at the hilltop taverna. All she knew was that their holiday had been cut short, and she and Linda had returned to England without him.
She guessed there had been a row. Linda had hinted as much. But even she had been in the dark at that time. It wasn’t until later that Alex had talked to her, and explained the reasons for their peremptory departure.
Of course, Beth hadn’t known about this either, until Linda had phoned her, the day before yesterday. So far as Beth had been concerned, her involvement in their lives was over. Alex had said nothing about seeing her again, after they were back in England. He had wished her goodbye with tight-lipped detachment, his mind clearly on other things than pacifying her emotions.
Beth caught her lower lip between her teeth, and bit down hard. She wondered now why she had been so surprised he’d kept to his part of the bargain. Had she really thought that night on the beach would make a scrap of difference? He had said he wanted her; he had never said he loved her. He had used her, as she had once used him, and then dismissed her from his mind, as he’d promised before they left.
Even so, she had waited for two full weeks after her return from Greece, just in case he changed his mind. She had told herself she was waiting to make sure Linda got her degree, but the tears she shed in private made a mockery of her excuses.
Nevertheless, she had been there to give Linda the news, when she’d phoned to ask what her results were. Linda had graduated, albeit just barely, and her reaction had been predictably defensive when Beth had asked her what she was going to do. She was staying with her foster mother, she’d said, until Tony’s father could organise a job for her in the London office. She didn’t know yet whether she would take it. She was keeping her options open, until she knew more about what was going on.
Which meant, Beth knew, that she was not about to make any brash statements about her future, until it was more secure. Linda had learned not to take anything for granted, and promises made on a sun-swept hillside might wither and die in a colder climate.
Of course, she couldn’t know that what Beth was really asking was what Alex was doing. But it was enough to know that he was back in England, and had evidently no intention of contacting her. And why should he? she had asked herself, as she had reluctantly replaced the receiver. So far as he was concerned, their affair was over. With no hard feelings on either side.
And that was when Beth had known that she couldn’t spend the months until her baby was born in Sullem Cross. The university dominated the small town, and it had too many memories. Even her own house had too many memories, and it was with tearful determination that she had phoned an estate agent in Norwich, and asked if he had any properties to rent on the east coast.
The house he offered her was ideal for her purposes. It was just a cottage, really, but it was clean, and well-furnished, and stood on the outskirts of a village, just a stone’s throw from the cliffs. The sea that surged on to the rocks below the cottage was nothing like the blue-green waters that washed the cove below the Villa Vouliari, but it was all the better for it. There was nothing in the cottage, or in the grey waters of the North Sea, to remind her of Alex. No one to take issue with her identity as a recently widowed school-teacher. No one to offer anything but sympathy, when they eventually discovered she was having a baby.
The house in Albert Terrace had been left in her daily woman’s hands. Mrs Lamb had orders to keep the place aired and tidy, and to forward any mail to her new address. She had thought long and hard about leaving her address with anyone, but common sense had won out in the end. It would be foolish to cut herself off completely. The house could burn down in her absence, and the police would have to have some way of tracing her.
All the same, she had been glad that Justine was away when she left. It would have been difficult to explain her reasons for not giving her her address, if she had been there. She still hadn’t decided what she was going to tell Justine, when this was all over. The truth, most likely, she had mused drily. Justine was not the type to tolerate anything less.
And, in the event, it had been Justine who had put Linda in touch with her. In her own inimitable way, she had demanded, and got, Beth’s telephone number from Mrs Lamb. When Linda had got no reply from Beth’s home number, she had rung the Sawyers, because she had known that Beth and Justine had been friends. It was a natural assumption that Beth would have left knowledge of her whereabouts with Justine. And Justine had always had the authority to get what she wanted.
Beth guessed Justine was probably wondering why Linda had wanted to speak to her so urgently. But never in a million years was she likely to guess the truth. Beth supposed one day she would tell her that, too. But, for the moment, the next few hours were all she could think about.
She was so glad Linda had contacted her, even if the girl’s reasons for doing so were so different from her own. To Linda, she represented someone who had shared at least a part of what had happened. Someone who understood how she was feeling without reproach. Linda could share her fears with Beth without recriminations. She didn’t demand unnecessary explanations.
But, of course, Linda hadn’t told her that right away. To begin with, she had pretended she was ringing to let Beth know she had taken a job with the Thiarchos corporation. There had been some reorganisation, she had explained. Alex Thiarchos had been given complete control of all overseas developments, and wou
ld be working permanently in London from now on. She was working in the public relations office there, she added, answerable to Tony’s cousin, Nicolas. She had a place of her own, a small but attractive apartment, overlooking Kensington Gardens; she was earning a good salary; and she had reluctantly accepted an allowance from Tony’s estate.
She seemed busy and happy in her work, and Beth was glad for her. If nothing else, Linda had matured a lot in the past three months. She had also learned that not all the Thiarchoses were like Tony’s grandfather. Whatever had happened, she no longer trusted him.
And that was when she had told Beth why she was really ringing. Her news about her home, and her job, had just been padding. What she really wanted to talk about was Alex. And the fact that Tony hadn’t been lying after all.
And, remembering all the things Linda had told her, Beth felt a churning surge of repugnance. Those letters from Constantine to his grandson had been everything Tony said and more. What he had not told Linda was that his grandfather had known about his drug habit. The old man had despised him for it, but he had used it, threatening to tell Tony’s father if he didn’t do as he was told.
What his real intentions had been, they would never know. Constantine had denied ever threatening Tony with anything. But Alex had told Linda that he thought his father had intended to use Tony to control him. It had always been a constant thorn in Constantine’s side that he couldn’t dominate his younger son as he could his older one. Tony had been graduating this year, and had been expected to go to work for Alex. Perhaps Constantine had planned to use him, to spy on his own father.
Whatever, the fact remained that Tony had been frightened of the old man. His one transgression had been to marry Linda. He had said he loved her, and he had persuaded her to marry him secretly in the register office in Sullem Cross. Now, however, Linda wondered if it hadn’t just been an act of bravado, regretted as soon as it was achieved. He hadn’t gained anything, just provided himself with another burden. And with his poor grades, and fear of failure, it must have been too much.
