'And I don't much care for your island either.' She ignored him and what he said. 'It's—it's infertile, and as for this abode—I can't call it a house,'—she recalled her very brief examination of what had been the sleeping quarters in the monastery, a long line of little cells, unlit except for the pierced arches high up in the wall that separated them from the corridor, 'it reminds me of those places where they keep battery hens.' Her lips quirked as she visualised the corridor itself. Rows of wooden doors on one side and on the other, tiny windows set high in the outer wall with pictures of saints, bishops and other holy men painted like a frieze the whole length of the wall. 'Something to look at while they were meditating,' she murmured, 'but precious little comfort. Thank heaven you don't expect me to sleep down there, I'd go mad in the night!' She paused as a frightening thought struck her. 'You're not thinking of asking me to live here with Katy, are you? It'd be like being walled up alive!'
'Something you wouldn't endure, even for money?' Demetrios lit a long, thin cigar and peered at her through a cloud of blue smoke.
'Here we go again!' she sighed disgustedly.
'No, it's not "here we go again",' he almost snarled at her. 'But I'm afraid you'll have to spend a few days here, alone with Katy. I've a few things to straighten out in the hotel in Rhodes—I'll do it more quickly on my own—I haven't time to take you round sightseeing…'
'Nobody asked you to,' Hester interrupted fiercely. 'Personally, I'll be glad of the privacy. How are you getting to Rhodes—you're not going in that fishing boat, I hope?'
'No.' Demetrios set down his coffee cup and stood up. 'There's a boat coming for me tomorrow morning, a perfectly adequate cabin cruiser. That's why I couldn't spare the time for you to look around Athens. So, as I'll need to be up early, shall we go to bed?'
'To sleep, perchance to dream,' she quoted sardonically. 'Dream that this is all a dream and that one day I'll wake up to a world where everything's sane and sensible and you don't exist.'
'But that's the dream,' she thought he was laughing at her. 'This, my adorable wife, this is reality.'
'How nicely you put it!' she glared at him in the dimness of the room. 'Myself, I'd say this was a nightmare. I've a good mind to pray very hard to all those painted saints and bishops to have you exorcised!'
'They wouldn't do it.' He looked serious, but a small smile flickered round his well cut mouth and his heavy lids drooped so that his eyes were almost hidden and she couldn't tell whether the gleam in them was sardonic or not. 'They—those ancient churchmen— agreed wholeheartedly with the married state for the laity—they practically insisted on as many children as possible—fruits of the union which swelled the ranks of the army of God.'
'And speaking of children,' her own eyes sparkled as she took up the verbal battle, speaking calmly and judiciously. 'Have you given any thought to the matter of genes and chromosomes? I have, and I'm appalled at the evidence. I've been thinking about it a lot—it's very important, this genetic factor thing…'
'And where has all this thought taken you, have you arrived at anything positive?' he queried. 'You can't have read much on the subject, not as it applies to us—you haven't had time.'
'Only that, for the best results, you should have chosen somebody else.' She looked up at him, making her face serious and her eyes glow with a candid light. 'I'll leave you out of the calculations, because although I suspect you've fathered one child, a daughter, I consider the evidence to be incomplete, so I'm just working on my side of the family. My mother was an only child, a girl, and I'm also an only child, female. That's not a good track record for a man who wants a son!'
When she had finished, Demetrios was laughing uproariously, but whether it was at what she'd said or the way she'd said it, she didn't know. He seemed to be fighting for control over his amusement, and when his voice steadied, he answered her in the same clinical way that she had used.
'Then we shall just have to try, try and try again.' If it was supposed to comfort her, if failed lamentably. 'We've at least ten, possibly as many as fourteen years before you're too old to bear more children. We're almost bound to strike it lucky some time! And if we don't, think how much happiness we'll get from a really big family—and it won't be all that much hard work. You'll have Katy to help with the first two or three, and after that, the older ones will help with the babies. You look a bit stunned, my darling—don't you like the idea?'
'Ooh!' Hester squealed on a high note of indignation, and hurried past him out of the room, fumbling her way through the darkened maze of the place to find the bedroom, where she stumbled about in the dark.
Demetrios followed her, his hand touched a switch and the room sprang into light. For a moment, it meant nothing to her—one flicked a switch, light came—there was nothing marvellous about that, but— here on this lonely, barren rock of an island—miles from anywhere! Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
'A generator.' Demetrios followed the workings of her mind as though it was all written large on a blackboard as she looked around at more painted saints and bishops whose Byzantine faces and Eastern eyes watched her from the wood-panelled walls. 'It runs the lights, a large freezer, the fridge and a radio transmitter. If you want me while I'm away, Katy will show you how to use it.'
Hester hardly heard him, her fascinated gaze was on the pictures, the colours of the robes, faded by time but the gold of crowns and haloes glimmering as if newly painted.
'Don't be shy of them.' He drew her towards him and started to unfasten the buttons on her shirtwaister, smoothing the soft cotton stuff from her shoulders. 'They were a very understanding lot of men, well aware of human frailty.'
'Please!' she muttered, her eyes agonised and her hands fluttering ineffectually as she tried to push his away.
'But it'll be better this time,' he promised soothingly. 'You'll enjoy it.'
'Y-you come with a gold-plated guarantee?' Even at this stage, when she was trembling with embarrassment, she could still drag out a tart riposte.
'There's nothing plated about it,' he assured her. 'Twenty-four-carat and solid all the way through! No, don't try to hide yourself from me.' He pulled his hands away from where they were vainly trying to cover her breasts. 'I'm your husband, remember, I have the right.'
Some time during the night, Hester started a dream that turned into a nightmare, a senseless thing connected with the painted faces on the wall, and it set her bolt upright in bed, her mouth parted in a frightened scream. Demetrios stirred beside her.
'Something wrong?'
'No.' She fought her way back to reality, wiping her wet palms on the sheet. 'A nightmare, something I've eaten, I expect or all that olive oil—the Russian salad was swimming in it.'
'You feel sick?'
'No again.' She slumped back on her pillows and closed her eyes determinedly. 'And if I did,' she muttered savagely, almost to herself, 'there's no need for you to put the flag up, we've only been married three days!'
He switched on the bedside light, took a look at her face and switched it off again to pull her close to him and he laughed as she slapped at his hands. 'Never mind, sweetheart, tomorrow you can organise the cooking yourself—it'll help to pass the time until I return.'
CHAPTER SIX
'How long will you be away?' Hester pushed her chair back from the table and watched her husband dunk another roll in his coffee. They had been up early, but not as early as the Greek woman, Anna, who seemed to be the chief and only head cook and bottle washer. The rolls they were eating were of her baking, and from the warmth and crispness of them, they were fresh that morning.
'You're afraid to be left here on your own?' Demetrios shook his head. 'I thought you'd appreciate the solitude, and you'll have Katy for company. You and she can get to know each other, you'll do that better if I'm not here.'
Hester gave a grunt of discontent. 'The plumbing's archaic,' she complained, 'and the water supply's niggardly. I wouldn't have liked to be here when the monastery was fully
occupied—the whole place must have stunk of unwashed bodies! It's not my idea of a holiday villa.'
'Did I promise you that?' He raised his eyebrows and the lift of his lip was disdainful.
'How the hell should I know?' Hester snapped savagely. 'I can't recall what you promised…'
'Twenty thousand pounds, a wedding ring and a life free from monetary worries,' he reminded her. There was a chill in his voice—the man who had teased her last night had vanished.
'And for that, you could have had the best,' she snapped, 'so why make do with me? Oh hell, I'm fed up with being a pawn on a chessboard, moved from square to square as though I'd no mind or will of my own! You never tell me anything—any bit of information I've had from you, I've had to dig out with a chisel.' She harked back to a grievance, one she had almost forgotten. 'You could have married your "distant cousin", the one I met in the hotel—the one called Athene. From her behaviour, I should have said she was slightly more than willing to fill the empty niche in your life.'
'What do you want me to say?' Demetrios leaned back lazily in his chair and looked at her through half shut eyes that gave nothing away. 'That I fancied you, or perhaps that I thought you'd suit my purpose better? Choose whichever reason you like! You do suit my purpose, and when you've got over your desire to be the richest woman in the world without working for it…'
'Ha!' she interrupted. 'We're back to that again, are we? I'm surprised you trust me here alone with your daughter… As a matter of fact, I'm surprised you trust me at all!'
'There are times when I surprise myself,' the humour crept back into his eyes, 'but you'll have to get out of this habit of being bad-tempered in the morning. You should try for a good night's sleep!' His fingers on her lips controlled her howl of wrath as Katy came bouncing into the room.
'The boat's coming!' she announced excitedly. 'May we come down to the landing with you, Papa?'
'Ask Hester,' he grinned. 'I don't think your new stepmama likes the thought of coming back up. Yesterday she said "Never again"!'
Hester chose to be contrary. 'Of course we will,' she announced firmly. 'It's just what I need, a spot of mountaineering. It'll set me up for the day,' she glanced down at her cotton trousers and flat, comfortable sandals, 'and I'm dressed for it!'
During the next two days, Hester learned about Katy and was pleasantly surprised by what she found. The child was happy without being boisterous. Apart from her ability with languages, she was pleasantly average—Hester was in no mood to cope with a budding genius—and Katy was very well behaved although a trifle old-fashioned.
Hester put this down to the effect of Miss Mungo, with whom Katy had lived for the past three years and who had been called back to Scotland less than a month ago to care for an invalid mother. Of course, Katy had desires, the main ones being to live in a house and go to a proper school with other girls.
'We've always lived in the hotels, you see,' Katy sighed tragically, 'and Miss Mungo said it's no place for a growing girl and I should meet people of my own age.' Miss Mungo had apparently said a number of things and Hester couldn't fault any of them. 'I'd like to have a dog and wear school uniform.'
'I believe your papa has a few plans in that direction.' Hester watched a smile light Katy's dark eyes. 'I'm almost sure there'll be a house, and a school. As for a dog,' she grinned, 'a house isn't a house without one!' And she left the child deep in a book of dogs, scrutinising breeds in order that the dog should be exactly right and just what was wanted.
Meanwhile, Hester wandered out into the courtyard, hoisted herself up on to the wall and peered out to sea. Over to her left loomed the dark shadow of Naxos, nearly on the skyline; Rhodes was much farther away, and she wondered what Demetrios was doing—was he stuck in an office with a desktop computer and a set of ledgers or was he decorating the side of the hotel swimming pool? Knowing Demetrios, it would be the former, and yet—she became practical—she didn't know Demetrios; he was merely her husband and that didn't mean she knew him.
He was the most aggravating creature, one she couldn't pin down, alternating as he did between the complete male chauvinist, a satyr and a puckish faun who teased unmercifully. He ought to be labelled, she decided drearily, 'I am a male chauvinist pig' or 'this is my humorous side'; perhaps then she'd know how to treat him! But something would have to be done about their relationship, and that soon. She was fighting for self-preservation—not to become a cypher, to retain her individuality… Maybe that was what was wrong, perhaps she should just slump, give the appearance of acquiescence—be boring. It was worth a try!
Demetrios returned to the island at half past seven on Monday evening. Katy, who had spent the greater part of the day with her eye glued to the telescope which was mounted on the wall of the courtyard, came rushing in with the news.
'Papa's coming back, I can see the boat! He should be here in half an hour.'
'Big deal,' Hester said gloomily. In an effort not to think about the future, she had decided to read, but the only books were those belonging to her new stepdaughter—specially chosen, she guessed, by Miss Mungo with the aim of improving both Katy's mind and her knowledge of Scotland. Hester had dipped into Redgauntlet and swiftly withdrawn to seek for something a bit less convoluted and verbose. Kidnapped was to hand, and she sighed with relief. Robert Louis Stevenson was easier to read, but she couldn't keep her mind on it. Images of Flo, Mia and Vilma constantly came to mind, but as soon as she concentrated on one or the other of them, they turned into Demetrios…
'I'm going down to the landing to meet Papa!' That was Katy, almost dancing with excitement, and Hester thought she could understand that. After two days on this rock, a visit from the arch-fiend himself would have been welcome, if only to break the monotony. 'Are you coming with me?' Katy sounded anxious as though she thought the welcoming committee should be as large as possible. Hester closed Kidnapped, set it down on the table with a thump and rose to her feet.
'I'm dressed for the part,' she indicated her tee-shirt and trousers. 'But don't blame me if somebody has to send for that donkey to get me back here!'
Katy laughed aloud at the thought of somebody not wanting to climb six hundred steps, and when, on the way down, Hester made a bright comment about how fortunate it was that somebody had installed a handrail over the worst bits, the child nodded sagely.
'It was for the old men in the monastery. They were all old at the end, you know. Miss Mungo said they were hermits and then people didn't want to be hermits any more, so when the very old ones died, no new ones came.'
'That's reasonable and quite understandable.' Hester tempered her grimness with a smile and went on down, each step jolting her, but at the bottom, they went down the few steps from the landing, sat down and took off their sandals. She dipped her hot feet into the cool water with a feeling of bliss, wishing she had brought a swimsuit. There was a skimpy bikini in her case, but for some inexplicable reason she felt shy of wearing it. It didn't seem to go with monasteries!
From where they were sitting they could see the cabin cruiser, only a faint white speck in the distance to start with, but as it drew nearer they could make out the bow wave and the creamy wake of it, together with the two dark blobs which were Demetrios and the pilot. Hester scrambled to her feet and wiping them on her handkerchief, put her sandals back on. That was something else it was hard to explain, this desire to be fully clothed, even shod, when she was with Demetrios—a sort of armour? Perhaps!
The white boat came alongside the landing slowly and Demetrios, with a lithe leap, jumped ashore and Hester, watching as Katy hurled herself on her father, approved of him, in fact she felt a little curl of excitement deep in the pit of her stomach. He certainly looked good, the sort of man any right-minded girl would be glad to be married to—for sheer, animal magnificence, she awarded him top marks.
The wind had whipped his normally smoothly dressed hair into curls, his thin cotton open-necked white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, made his olive s
kin look dark and satiny, and the pants he was wearing, thin dark blue ones, clung to his hips and thighs as though he'd been poured into them, and his face as he bent over his young daughter was full of laughter and gentleness.
Hester's own face grew shadowed as she straightened out the soft line of her mouth and masked the admiration in her eyes behind the fringe of her lashes. That way lay madness—she would become personally involved—she would be a pushover and it would all end in more hurt than she could take.
Determinedly she painted a bright smile on her face—remembering that Vilma had said she would get hurt; but the thing was not to let it show, so that when it came her turn to be greeted, she was cool, self-contained and strictly practical.
'Did you by any chance bring some milk back with you?' she murmured as soon as his arms closed about her. She made no attempt to evade the embrace— Katy was watching, and what her new stepdaughter thought was important to her; Katy must find everything normal.
'Milk?' Demetrios stopped with his mouth less than an inch away from hers, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips. 'I've been away for two days and you ask me about milk?'
'Mmm.' She stood quietly in the curve of his arm, raising clear, cool eyes to his. 'First things first, that's what I was taught. Olive oil I can take in small quantities, but goat's milk, no! And it's either that or the dried stuff reconstituted.' She turned her head slightly at the critical moment and his mouth brushed her cheek. 'If I ever come here again,' she continued serenely, 'I shall bring my own cow!'
They arrived back at Heathrow to find the English summer was behaving normally; it was raining. It had been another rushed journey. Hester felt as though her feet hadn't touched the ground since they had arrived at Piraeus, and she leaned back thankfully against the squabs of the car which had come to meet them and take them straight to the hotel. The shortest distance between two points, she mused, was a straight line, and Demetrios evidently moved only in straight lines.
The Daughter of Night Page 9
