South from Sounion

by Anne Weale

  From now on, your sister's reputation will be as safe with me as with Bernard.

  "Hasn't it occurred to you that he may be treating you differently because he feels differently?" she said, with a curious, sinking feeling.

  The significance of this escaped Cathy. "What do you mean?" she asked brusquely.

  "I told you he was more Greek than English. Greek men may philander with foreign girls - but not with their own girls, or anyone they mean to marry. Where prospective wives are concerned they're as circumspect as the Victorians."

  When, once before, Lucia had reminded her of Nicholas's Greek strain, Cathy had scoffed. This time she did not.

  She said, "So you've changed your mind, have you? Now you do believe he is serious about me?"

  "It seems so," Lucia replied.

  "But you still don't approve, I gather?"

  "No - because I don't think you love him."

  Cathy shrugged. "That's his problem."

  Lucia winced, and turned away. At that moment it seemed to her that her concern for Cathy was as wasted as water sprinkled on a desert. Since nothing she could do or say had any influence on the younger girl, she might as well give up the effort.

  "Cathy may be a fool, but I am a bigger one," she thought bitterly. "I am in love with the man!"

  It was the first time she had admitted to herself that what she felt for Nicholas was more than physical attraction. The sudden realization of how deeply she cared about him was a shock which made her heart pound. Perhaps she had not understood it before because love in actuality was so different, so painfully different, from love in abstract. She had always assumed that when at last she did fall in love it would be a mutual condition - not this hopeless, one-sided affair. She had thought, too, that love would be a gentle, gradual thing, a communion of thoughts and feelings developing slowly and harmoniously. Instead, it had been a battle, each skirmish leaving her weaker and more vulnerable. Now, her defences in ruins, she did not know which prospect was the more intolerable - never to see him again, or to have to see him often because he was her half-sister's husband.

  Cathy, her suspicions diverted by this unconsidered possibility which Lucia had just presented to her, said, "Perhaps you're right. How funny!"

  "Funny?" Lucia queried blankly.

  "Well, who would have thought that Nico might have a prim streak?" Cathy explained, with' a laugh. "Still, men are peculiar creatures," she went oh reflectively. "Look at the number of husbands who flirt with every girl in sight. But if their wives so much as look at another man, they go almost berserk with jealousy. I wonder if Nico is the jealous type?" she speculated, frowning slightly.

  "It depends what you mean by jealousy," Lucia answered. "I shouldn't imagine he would be unreasonably jealous. He's too sure of himself. But I can't see him standing for any nonsense."

  It was on the tip of her tongue to add, "Anyway, if a woman was married to Nicholas, she wouldn't be interested in anyone else." Then she realized how revealing such a remark would be, and hastily checked herself. "I'm going down to the beach with the children. Are you coming?"

  Cathy shook her head. "The glare down there makes my head ache. I'm sick of the beach. I'll rest until Nico comes back."

  He came back sooner that he had anticipated. Not much more than an hour later, Lucia heard the drone of the Land Rover's engine. But she did not learn the outcome of his errand until the early evening, when they were all getting ready to go into town.

  She had changed into a plain, dark blue dress, and was struggling with the zip fastener which had stuck in the small of her back, when someone tapped at her door. Thinking it was one of the children, she called, "Come in."

  When Nicholas opened the door, his first glance was towards the other door. Having seen that it was closed, and that Lucia-was alone, he then noticed that her hands were behind her back, and she was trying urgently to free the jammed fastener.

  "Having trouble? Let me help you," he offered.

  "No, thank you - 1 can do it," she said, backing away.

  Nicholas looked amused. "If you wrench at it like that, you'll probably break it. Come on - turn round, and let me do it. I have seen your back before, you know." His eyes narrowed and glinted. "You have a birthmark at the base of your left shoulder blade."

  Lucia flushed, and set her teeth. She knew it was absurd to be so flustered. If Yannis had offered to help her, she would have accepted quite calmly. But Nicholas was not Yannis, and the fact that he had studied her sufficiently closely to notice the small brown birthmark only added to her confusion.

  "I came to tell you that I couldn't get through to my sister," he said, leaving the door half open, and advancing towards her. "However, I dictated a message for them to give to her. Unless she has difficulty in getting on a plane, she should be on her way to Athens within the next twenty- four hours."

  "What did you say? She won't think there's been an accident, or that the children are ill, will she?" Lucia asked, instantly visualizing how alarmed his sister would be at receiving a cryptic summons to come at once.

  Nicholas took her by the shoulders, turned her round, and began to deal with the fastener. "No, no - 1 wouldn't frighten her. I simply said that Francesca knows about the breach, and is very unhappy, and that it's up to Sofia to come and handle the situation. I also talked to Richard in London, and told him the same thing."

  "Did you tell him you had asked your sister to come?" said Lucia. Her voice sounded normal enough, but, inwardly, she was trembling at the touch of his fingers against her skin.

  "When he asked that, I rang off," said Nicholas. "If he wants to know, he'll have to contact Sofia himself. If he has any sense, he'll nip over to Paris and ask her in person."

  Lucia, who was wondering if Cathy could hear his voice and was likely to burst in upon them, said, "I think the teeth of the zip must be broken. You had better leave it. I'll put something else on."

  "No, they aren't damaged. They're caught on a loose thread. Have you a pair of scissors with you?".

  "Yes - here." As she stretched out her arm to reach the pair of nail scissors which were lying on top of the dressing chest, she saw his face reflected above hers in the looking glass. Their glances met for an instant. She looked swiftly away, afraid of what her eyes might reveal to ham.

  But when he had taken the scissors and returned his attention to the zip, she could not resist stealing another glance at him. It was a temptation she would have to resist from now on. If he caught her watching him too often, he would surely guess her secret. He was not obtuse like Bernard. Nicholas understood women.

  "There you are - that's fixed it, I think." He ran the zip up and down to make sure all the thread had been cleared.

  "Thank you," Lucia said primly. Then she gasped, and her tanned face turned scarlet.

  For as he drew the fastener up to the collar of her dress, Nicholas had bent and kissed her neck.

  It was such an incredible thing for him to do that, if she had not seen it in the mirror, she would have thought she must be mistaken.

  He met her outraged gaze, his own eyes amused. "I'm afraid I couldn't resist it," he said uncontritely.

  With an effort, she kept her voice low. "Y-you seem to have no scruples at all."

  "Very few," he agreed, with a twinkle, "But how was I to know it would annoy you? You didn't object when Yannis did it."

  Her cheeks burned. "That was different." She turned, and faced him. With deliberate pointedness, she added, "I happen to like your cousin."

  Nicholas's smile did not alter, yet, for a second, there was a flicker in the shrewd, dark eyes which made her wish she had not said that to him. But, whatever was passing through his mind, his tone was as smooth as usual as he said, "Do you still dislike me so much?"

  She hesitated. "Not all the time."

  "Only when I tease you . . . hm?"

  "If that's what you call it," she said distantly.

  He grinned, and strolled to the door. Before he went out,
he said mockingly, "In that case, we're making progress. You used to detest me without reservations... remember?"

  Some hours later, after dark, Lucia stood in the thronged main square of the town, and watched the Epitaphios procession wind its way down the steep, narrow street from the church. First came the acolytes, youths in red and purple robes, some of them staggering under the weight of a great Cross, others bearing gilded banners. Then came the bier symbolizing the dead Christ. It was covered with wreaths of roses and fragrant lemon blossom and girls in white dresses were strewing it with handfuls of petals. As it passed the place where she stood, Lucia noticed that some of the people around her were weeping as if the bier carried a close and dear relative.

  Immediately behind it came the richly-robed priests and local dignitaries, followed by a stream of unofficial mourners. In the flickering light of hundreds of candles, their faces looked drawn with genuine grief. As she watched them shuffle silently by, she realized that, to these unsophisticated Greek islanders, the horror and despair of the Crucifixion was as real and terrible as if they had seen it for themselves.

  When it was time to go home, Cathy was nowhere to be seen.

  "Where can she have got to?" said Lucia anxiously, as the rest of them made their way back to where Nicholas had parked the Land Rover.

  "She'll turn up presently," he answered.

  "Yes, she can't possibly get lost in a place as small as this," agreed Francesca.

  But it was nearly half an hour later, and Ariadne had fallen asleep on her uncle's lap, before Cathy reappeared.

  "Where have you been? What happened to you?" Lucia exclaimed, as her sister came hurrying up.

  "I got separated from you in the crowd, and then I couldn't find my way back here," Cathy explained, rather breathlessly. She did not seem upset by her misadventure. Rather, she seemed excited, and oddly pleased with herself.

  "Well, you had better pile in the back with the children and Lucia can come in front and take Ariadne," said Nicholas.

  "I'll have her on my knee," said Cathy, climbing on to the seat beside him.

  "She's quite heavy," he warned her.

  "I don't mind. It isn't far." She settled herself comfortably, and helped him to transfer the sleeping child to her lap.

  It was so unlike Cathy to want to have anything to do with the children that Lucia could not help feeling suspicious. Why was her sister suddenly in such a good mood? She had not been particularly cheerful on the drive down. What had happened while she was missing to raise her spirits?

  Next day, she continued to be so unwontedly agreeable to everyone that Lucia's curiosity sharpened. However, she decided not to question the younger girl, but to wait until Cathy chose to enlighten her.

  In the afternoon, Nicholas made the children go to bed for two hours, because they would be up until long past midnight. As she had done the day before, Kyria Katina travelled to town with some friends from the nearby village. The rest of the household drove down in the Land Rover. But this time Cathy did not volunteer to have Ariadne on her knee. She had spent a long time getting ready, and was wearing a pale pink crepe smock, white mesh stockings, and pink patent shoes with silver heels. It was an outfit more suited to an evening at Sibylla's in London than to sight-seeing among crowds of Greek countryfolk.

  From the moment they reached town, Lucia sensed an atmosphere entirely different from the funereal gloom of the previous evening. Tonight, the crowds were in a mood of suppressed excitement. Soon the days of fasting would be over, and the feasting and rejoicing would begin. Already, in the church, the bier and wreaths had been removed, and the new decorations of laurel and myrtle put up, and the aisle spread with rosemary.

  It was while the children were buying their candles that Cathy disappeared again. One moment she was there beside them and, a moment later, she had vanished.

  Lucia touched Nicholas's arm. "Where's Cathy? Can you see her anywhere ?"

  They both peered over the heads of the people around them. But of Cathy's bright, blonde head there was no sign.

  "She seems to have lost herself again," said Nicholas unconcernedly. "Perhaps she prefers to look around on her own."

  His indifference puzzled Lucia. "Will she be all right?" she asked, frowning. "I mean ... that dress is so conspicuous, and Greek men are so . . ." She stopped short, somewhat embarrassed.

  "Inflammable?" Nicholas suggested. He grinned. "They also have too much pride to risk a rebuff. She'll be stared at - perhaps even pinched. Nothing worse will happen to her."

  His flippancy shocked her. "Don't you mind other men staring at her ... touching her?"

  "There's not much I can do about it, is there? If I go off and look for her, you'll be left unprotected."

  "I can take care of myself," she informed him coldly.

  "What makes you think Cathy can't?" Before she could answer, he turned away to speak to the candle-seller.

  The candles were decorated with blue and white ribbons. Nicholas bought one for Lucia, and one for himself.

  At twelve o'clock the church bells began to peal, and everyone cried out Christos Anesti - Christ is Risen. Within seconds, the sky was ablaze with coloured fireworks.

  Nicholas lit the children's candles for them. Then he lit his own, and offered it to Lucia so that she could light hers from it.

  "If your candle is still burning when you get home, it's a lucky Omen," Francesca told her.

  "It's also said that if a girl lights her candle from a man's, by the following Easter they'll be married," Nicholas added.

  "Oh, really - how interesting," Lucia remarked composedly. But she did not feel composed. When he looked at her like that - his dark eyes glinting with devilment - it made her feel weak and breathless.

  She had another bad moment, some time later. Boys were setting off squibs in the streets and, in the scuffle to get out of the way of one of them, she was pushed off balance. She might have fallen to the ground, but Nicholas was close by, and he caught her and held her close against him until the hissing, darting squib had burnt itself out.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, relaxing his hold.

  "Oh ... yes." Quickly - perhaps too quickly - she freed herself from his arms. "Thank you," she added, as an afterthought.

  "Don't mention it - I enjoyed it," he told her provokingly.

  The children came back from further along the street. Ariadne looked nervous and tearful.

  "Hello - what's the matter with you, mouse?" Nicholas asked, as she ran to him.

  "She's scared of the squibs," said her brother.

  "Up you come, then." Nicholas swung her expertly on to his shoulders. "The squibs can't hurt you up there. Hold tight."

  "Oh, Lucia - you've lost your candle," Francesca pointed out.

  "So I have. I must have dropped it in the scramble just now."

  "I can see it." Stephen darted off to retrieve the candle from the cobbles. "I'm afraid it's been squashed," he said, as he picked it up.

  It was at this point that Cathy reappeared. But she was not alone. There was a tall, fair man with her.

  "Ah, here you are," she said brightly. "I've been looking everywhere for you." She smiled up at her lanky escort. "This is Grant Wallace. Grant, this is my sister Lucia... and Nico Curzon... and the children."

  Even before he said he was happy to know her, Lucia had guessed that Grant was an American. She guessed too that Cathy had met him the night before, and arranged to meet him again tonight. But with what motive, Lucia could not imagine.

  "Are you staying at the hotel?" Nicholas asked, when the two men had shaken hands, and Grant had said "Hello there" to the children.

  "No, I'm here with a charter yacht party," the American explained. "We've been cruising around the Aegean for the past four weeks. This is our last stop-over before we head back to Athens."

  "Grant was filming the fireworks display," said Cathy. "I asked him if he'd noticed an English girl and three children in the crowd, and he very kindly offered to h
elp me find you. I was rather nervous on my own, especially with all those beastly squibs going off."

  She said this with such a convincing air of sweet defenceless femininity that most people would have believed her. But even if Lucia had not known her sister was acting, the tell-tale look of unease on Grant Wallace's face would have given her cause to suspect the truth of Cathy's statement.

  Nicholas too seemed somewhat sceptical. "How come you got lost again, Cathy?" he asked, in his most bland voice.

  "I don't know - I just did," she said innocently. "Never mind, I'm safely back now. Thank you so much for your help, Grant."

  Since this was clearly his cue to leave, the American said, "Well, I guess I'd better be getting back to my party." He took Cathy's outstretched hand and added, in the tone of a man who was not quite sure of his ground, "We're staying here a couple of days. Will I see you again?"

  Cathy glanced at Nicholas. It was obvious that this was his cue to invite the American to the house. But, although he must have realized what was expected of him, he chose to ignore the opening.

  There was an awkward pause until Grant, who was evidently not insensitive to atmosphere, went on with rather forced bonhomie, "Say, I have a great idea! Why don't all of you come to lunch on board Cassandra tomorrow? She's a real fine yacht. I'm sure the kids would like to look her over."

  "Oh, what fun! We would love to, wouldn't we?" Cathy said eagerly, looking to the children to support her.

  But before they could open their mouths, Nicholas said pleasantly, "It's very kind of you, Wallace, but not tomorrow, I'm afraid. Easter Sunday is very much a family occasion here, and it would upset my aunt, who is Greek, if we broke away from tradition."

  "I see ... I didn't know that," the American answered. "How about the day after tomorrow?"

  "Sorry, that's booked up too," said Nicholas affably.

  "Oh, too bad. Well, I guess this is goodbye, then," said Grant, with a disappointed face.

  "Perhaps we'll see you in Athens. We're going to be there ourselves later in the week," Cathy told him.