Man Without a Heart

by Anne Hampson

  'What a day!' she exclaimed. 'And what a mountain of presents they had!'

  'A roomful.'

  'Yes, I know. They couldn't put them all on display.'

  'From what I saw, they hadn't unpacked half of them.'

  'I wouldn't have missed it for anything.'

  Her husband slanted her a glance. 'Not even for a day out with your ... er ... Gilbert?' he asked 'sardonically. She shook her head, but frowned too, not at all happy at the way the introduction of Gilbert into the conversation had broken the tranquillity between them. 'What did you do with yourself?' Jill asked Gilbert when, the following morning, they met at the car park. 'I went to the archaeological site at the end of the island and collected some potsherds to take back to school. I shall probably do a project on archaeology when I get back.' Gilbert was driving the car toward one of the white-sanded beaches where he and Jill were going to spend the morning swimming and sunbathing. She was restless, her thoughts repeatedly returning to the past two days and the pleasure of being with her husband. Was it wise to stay with him? she asked herself. Her love was strengthening with every day that passed, and the longer she stayed, the worse the break was going to be. Yet how could she leave when Mrs. Doxaros' happiness depended on her staying?

  She closed her eyes, leant back against the upholstery of the car, and tried to relax even while her subconscious was all the time insisting that she face her problems and try to find a solution. There was no solution, she decided dejectedly; she had made a pact and must keep to it. It was inevitable that Gilbert should notice her brooding silence, and he asked what was the matter.

  'Nothing,' she replied, trying to sound convincing. 'You're different,' he declared.

  'It was a tiring two days,' she began, then stopped, guiltily aware that she was lying. 'Tiring? Didn't you enjoy it?'

  'Oh, yes, I enjoyed it. Have you ever been to a village wedding, Gilbert?'

  'No, never. I'd very much have liked to go to that one, but of course I didn't know anyone who might have got me an invitation.' He was driving along a narrow lane where the land on either side was covered with undergrowth, clustering in dense luxuriance among tall palms and cypresses. 'It was very interesting.' Jill proceeded to describe all that had gone on, noticing that Gilbert nodded now and then as if some of what she was relating was known to him already. As she talked, she found herself becoming more relaxed, and after the morning on the beach her problems seemed smaller and she was able to enjoy her day out with Gilbert. They visited a Roman villa, where he took several snapshots of the beautiful mosaics that dated back to the second century B.C.; then he and Jill wandered about the ruins, sitting down for a while in one of the three atriums which had been embellished with flowers in huge stone jars and by bougainvillaea vines climbing around the columns.

  'Isn't it peaceful?' Gilbert turned to Jill and took her hand. 'We're alone here, so I'm going to kiss you.' He smiled. His lips found hers in a long and tender kiss; she tried to reciprocate even while hating herself for being insincere, all her thoughts with Adam, whose kisses were rarely gentle simply because he did not love her but took what he wanted merely for sexual pleasure. Gilbert's arms came around her, and she looked down, unwilling to meet his eyes. 'Jill, dear,' he said in a quiet but tensely impatient voice, 'this can't go on.'

  'What do you mean?' She drew away, her big eyes searching, a little fearful as she waited for his reply.

  'I love you, Jill, and I know you love me. How long do we have to wait? I want to be with you always, even though we can't be married yet—'

  'We haven't even discussed marriage,' broke in Jill in a distressed little voice. 'We must get to know each other better first.'

  'I've just said I love you,' he reminded her quietly.

  She fell silent, wishing he had not said he loved her. It was too soon; he was going far too fast for her. She felt his arms come about her again, made no protest when he kissed her cheek, then turned her face toward him to take her lips.

  'Can you honestly say that marriage to me has never occurred to you?' he asked when he had released her. She looked at him through troubled eyes, caution restraining her from giving a truthful answer, as she felt that, if he were absolutely sure of her, he would not hesitate to go to Adam and put the whole situation before him.

  'I can't be thinking of marriage to one man while I'm married to another,' she said at last in low, complaining tones which she hoped would deter him from pursuing the matter. 'You're not really married to him,' stated Gilbert, not intending to be put off. 'It's a marriage in name only and can easily be annulled.'

  A marriage in name only.... How little he knew! He seemed so complacent about it that Jill was almost impelled to tell him the truth. But she refrained, unwilling to face what would follow a confession like that.

  Gilbert might be so angry that he would throw her over-but no; he loved her too much for that. He'd be upset, though, and everything would be spoiled.

  If only Gilbert could have left things as they were. She needed a friend right now, and for her, Gilbert had been that friend, although in-his own mind he had been so much more. 'You're forgetting the main point of my marriage, Gilbert,' Jill said at length. 'I married Adam so that his mother would die happy. I can't go back on the bargain I have made; my conscience wouldn't let me even if I wanted to.' He looked squarely at her. 'You sound as if you don't want to, which doesn't make much sense to me. Surely you want your freedom?'

  'Sometime, yes, but when I agreed to marry Adam, I didn't expect to be free in a few weeks.'

  'How long, then?' he asked, and a frown came suddenly to Jill's wide brow.

  'I can't wish death on anyone,' she said sharply. 'That would be inhuman.'

  A sigh escaped him, and he sat in brooding silence for fully sixty seconds. 'I didn't expect my feelings for you to develop as quickly as this, Jill, but they have. I love you to distraction, and the thought of having to wait indefinitely is already unbearable, so what I shall feel like when it's time for me to leave here, I don't know.'

  'We still have three weeks,' she reminded him, forcing a smile to her lips. 'Let's make up our minds to enjoy our time together.'

  He smiled then, and brushed her lips with his own. 'All right, darling. Forgive me for troubling you like this. I do understand, but I'm impatient, too, because I can't imagine life without you.'

  Chapter Eight

  It was only three days later that Adam said, his eyes deliberately avoiding those of his wife, 'Mother wants to go to Athens, so I'm taking her in the yacht. She won't fly-but you know that.' A small pause before she heard him add, 'You will have to come, too, Jill. You do understand why?' She shot him an accusing glance. 'Must I? What about Gilbert?' Adam's eyes narrowed. 'Surely my mother is of greater importance than Gilbert? After all, he knows you're married—'

  'I told you, Adam, that he knows everything—that our marriage means nothing.'

  'He knows everything?' repeated Adam slowly, a stress on the last word.

  Jill coloured. 'No, not everything,' she returned quietly. Adam stared down into her pale face. 'Tell him why you have to come with me. He'll understand.'

  'And if he doesn't?' she flashed, anger rising at Adam's indifferent manner.

  'Then it's just too bad.' Adam lifted a hand to stifle a yawn, and Jill's anger grew. 'Your first duty is to me, with whom you made a bargain—'

  'Which you didn't honour!' she flashed.

  'Shall we keep to the point, Jill? As I said, your first duty is to me. You promised never to do anything that might upset my mother, and therefore, you must be ready to make sacrifices.'

  'It seems strange that your mother wants to go to Athens.'

  'It's not strange at all. She came for our wedding.'

  'That was different. She's not well, and she's old. I should have thought she'd rather stay at home.'

  'We'll be away for about four days,' Adam said, ignoring her words: 'Mother wants to visit some friends, so we shall be in the city for at least two n
ights, but probably three.' Jill looked away, a feeling of defeat and desolation sweeping over her. She was sorry for Gilbert, of course; it didn't seem fair to leave him alone again so soon. But most of all she was afraid, afraid that after another few days in her husband's company she would never be able to live without him, never be able to hide her true feelings from him.

  'I don't think you ought to have agreed to take your mother to Athens at this time,' she said with a sigh. 'We could have taken her later, when Gilbert has left.'

  'It so happens that she wants to go now. I was going on business anyway, and so she decided to come along, too.' Jill looked suspiciously at him, wondering if he had arranged it deliberately just to keep her away from Gilbert. 'When are we to go?' she asked after a long silence during which she sought for some way she could avoid going with him. 'Tomorrow.'

  Her eyes widened. 'Tomorrow? You haven't given me much warning!'

  'My business is urgent,' replied Adam in hard and lofty tones, 'as it very often is. I travel regularly between here and the capital, as you very well know.'

  She looked at him, suspicion still in her eyes. But she could read nothing in the dark mask of his face, the cold impersonal look in his eyes.

  'I'll tell Gilbert today, then,' she said. 'It's a shame that he's being left on his own like this, because it was in order to be with me that he changed his original plans.' Adam said nothing; he was not in the least interested, and as soon as breakfast was over he left her with the reminder that they would be leaving very early the following morning.

  The tang of the sea, the smooth progress of the yacht over the aquamarine waters, the luxurious loungers on the sun deck-all these could have contributed to a situation that was heavenly if only Adam had cared, if he were here beside her, relaxing in the sunshine. But he was in one of the cabins, working, while his mother was lying down, saying she was tired as a result of not sleeping the night before.

  Jill had been worried about her, and watching Adam's face when his mother announced her intention of lying down, knew that he was worried too.

  Jill sipped an iced lemonade through a straw; the drink had been brought to her by Petros, whose whole manner was apologetic. Jill had not forgiven him, though, and he received no response to the smile he gave her on placing the glass of lemonade in front of her. Georgios was at the wheel, singing a Greek song that was sweeping the country at the present time.

  Inevitably, Jill's thoughts returned repeatedly to Gilbert's reaction to the information that, once again, he would have to be left on his own. He had been more angry than Jill would ever have expected him to be, and he had been determined at first to go to Adam and discuss the position with him, explaining that the affair between him and Jill was serious. It had taken all Jill's efforts at persuasion to stop him, and in fact she was in tears before he finally gave in. She didn't want to think about how Adam would react if Gilbert did confront him, or of how such a confrontation would affect her. She loved her husband, and wanted to stay with him for as long as she could. And she knew she could never have a future with Gilbert after having loved Adam.

  He would have to accept her as a friend or not at all. She knew that a future with Gilbert would be safe and secure, but it was a future she wouldn't have and didn't want. But she wished she knew what her future would be, for as she had told herself many times before, there was no future for her with her husband.

  Tears suddenly filmed her eyes at this reminder, which came to her so very often, and she was brushing them away when Adam appeared, his eyes narrowing instantly, his voice hard and cold as he said, 'Crying for Gilbert, are you?' She shook her head abstractedly, her whole being affected by the sheer perfection of the picture he made-the burnt-sienna skin tightly drawn over high cheekbones, the fine, nobly chiselled jaw and chin, the mouth, sensuous, with the lower lip protruding slightly beyond the top one. She looked at his dark hands, muscular and sensitive, like a surgeon's or a pianist's.

  'No,' she answered, 'I'm not crying for Gilbert at all.' He sat down on the spare lounger. 'Why the tears, then?' His eyes swept her near-naked figure, taking in the gleaming honey-tan, the slender limbs and tiny waist, the firm high breasts half-revealed by the scantiness of the bikini she was wearing. 'No one cries for nothing.'

  'I wasn't really crying,' she denied, yet unconsciously brushed a hand over her eyes again.

  'You'd obviously rather be with him, though.' Adam's voice carried an odd sort of ring which

  Jill wished she could understand. He seemed to be probing, deeply intent on the answer she would give. And because she could not produce the truthful answer, she said yes, she would rather be with Gilbert.

  'He's in love with me,' she added, and in her voice there lay defiance, because she was suddenly terribly afraid that her husband, with his keen perception, might just guess that she had foolishly fallen in love with him. She was not willing to suffer such humiliation, and so she added, still with that same element of defiance, 'He was very angry at my having to leave him, and I agreed with him that it was wrong of you to dictate to me.'

  'Did I dictate?' Low the tone, and somehow dangerous. Jill felt tingles along her spine; she didn't care for Adam's expression any more than she cared for his voice. 'Yes,' she replied at length, 'you did. You always do,' she added, just for good measure.

  'You do happen to be my wife,' he told her harshly. 'And while you are, you'll adhere to my wishes!'

  Jill flashed him a glance, her mouth tight. 'You didn't tell me that when you were trying to persuade me to marry you!'

  'I'm not intending to quarrel with you,' gritted her husband. 'Just keep in mind that my wishes come before anyone else's.'

  'Including my own?' She was quivering with anger, her eyes darting to the door through which Mrs. Doxaros would come if she decided she had had sufficient rest. Jill had no wish for her mother-in-law to witness this little scene, for it would upset her dreadfully.

  'Including your own!' snapped Adam, and left her.

  Her angry eyes followed his tall figure as he went over to talk to Petros, giving him some instructions. A short while later lunch was served in the saloon, but Mrs. Doxaros remained in her cabin.

  'She isn't well, Adam.' Jill looked anxiously at him, all her anger forgotten. 'I'm worried about her.'

  'So am I—' This was said tersely, with a most odd inflection in his voice. 'Perhaps I ought not to have pandered to her and let her come with me.'

  Jill looked intently at him but said nothing. If his mother had not come, then there would have been no need for Jill to come either. Had he arranged it, as she suspected, in order to keep her away from Gilbert? If so, and anything happened to his mother, he wasn't going to feel very happy about it, that was for sure.

  Lunch was a silent meal, but to their relief, Mrs. Doxaros appeared soon after it was over and was persuaded to have some sandwiches and coffee.

  'Are you sure you're not ill?' Adam's eyes were searching, his voice edged with concern. 'You're pale ...' His voice trailed off as she shook her head.

  'I'm not ill, Adam,' she said in Greek. 'You fuss too much, dear.' He smiled then, and Jill caught her breath at the tenderness of his face. If only he would look at her like that! Wishful thinking again; the sooner she stopped it, the better off she would be.

  The yacht reached Piraeus at five o'clock that afternoon; Adam had a hired car waiting, and they were driven to the flat, where, later, they dined and Mrs. Doxaros went to bed early. 'How about an hour or two in the city?' Adam inquired of his wife. 'The night's young yet.'

  Jill nodded her agreement at once, for she loved Athens, being familiar with the streets and buildings and, of course, the fantastic antiquities, of which there were many in addition to the beauty and impressiveness of the Acropolis. 'Your mother will be all right, won't she?' Adam had a middle-aged couple living permanently at the flat, which was one of the largest in the tall, luxurious block overlooking Syntagma Square, where the former Royal Palace was also situated. This couple, Charo
n and Rita Tom-basis, looked after the flat, and so it was always ready whenever Adam wanted to stay there.

  'Of course.' Adam was in a white safari suit, tall, distinguished, full of self-confidence and faintly arrogant, his dark eyes moving from Jill's face to her figure, taking in the slender lines beneath the pure silk trouser suit she wore, the delicate curves of waist and hips. 'You're very beautiful,' he said unexpectedly, and kissed her… She coloured, lowering her long curling lashes to hide her expression.

  'Thank you, Adam,' she murmured shyly, and heard a low laugh escape him.

  'Very prim all at once,' he remarked, but that was all. His manner had changed with an abruptness that shocked her. He seemed to frown, to be admonishing himself for something. As on several similar occasions recently, Jill would have given much to read his thoughts.

  After descending in the lift, they were soon crossing the square, so well-known to Jill with its luxury hotels, its outdoor cafes, its newspaper kiosks and shoeshine boys. It was always a noisy city, with police whistles heard all the time as traffic and people were controlled. High on its sacred rock was the Parthenon, and other famous buildings, all illuminated as the spectacle of the Son et Lumiere was being presented for the tourists. 'I love it best at sunset,' Jill said as they strolled along. 'The mountains turn to a fantastic transparent purple and it seems to radiate right over the waters of the gulf.'

  'Yes, you're quite right, it does. You can notice it, too, on the peak of the island of Aegina.'

  'There's no city in the world like Athens,' she declared enthusiastically, and Adam turned his head, a curious expression in his eyes.

  'It's just struck me how little I know about you. How did you come to be in Athens in the first place?' She told him, slanting him an upward glance, puzzled by his manner, his interest after all this time. Right at the start he had said that it wasn't necessary for them to go into details about the past; their marriage was just a business deal which was temporary, and when it was dissolved they would probably never see each other again.