South from Sounion Page 9

  "Tomorrow is Good Friday," she reminded him.

  "The Orthodox Church doesn't always celebrate Easter at the same time as the Roman and Protestant Churches," put in Nicholas. "Sometimes the dates coincide, but this year Easter in Greece is later than in England."

  Kyria Katina put her head round the door, and said something which Lucia guessed was a request for them to take their places at the table because dinner was nearly ready.

  The studio was an all-purpose room, with two large sofas and several chairs grouped round the wide stone hearth at one end, and a dining area at the other end. Nicholas drew out the chair on which Cathy was to sit, and Yannis attended to Lucia.

  "You'll find that Greek food is like English food," said Nicholas, as he took his own place at the head of the table. "When it's badly cooked, it's abominable. But well cooked, it's very good. Tonight we're having moussaka, which is a kind of shepherd's pie. Would you care to try some retsina, Lucia? Or would you rather have ordinary wine?"

  Lucia knew that resinated wine was an acquired taste, but she was curious to try it.

  "I'd like some retsina, please," she said.

  "I thought you would," he said, in a tone she could not interpret. To her sister, he added, "You had better have ordinary wine, Cathy. I'm sure you wouldn't like retsina. Most English people say it tastes like turpentine."

  Kyria Katina's moussaka was delicious. The basis of the dish was minced meat, with aubergines, tomatoes, and onions. The topping was a rich sauce sprinkled with grated cheese. The only person who did not tuck in with relish was Cathy. But whether this was because she did not like the dish, or because her tummy was still unsettled, Lucia could not tell.

  "Well, what do you think of it?" Nicholas asked, when she had taken her first sip of retsina.

  Lucia drank a little more. The flavour was quite unlike anything she had tasted before. "I'm not sure yet," she said cautiously.

  "You needn't be polite," he said dryly. "We shan't be offended if you don't like it. Very few non-Greeks do. Leave it, and have some of the other wine."

  "No, I would rather have this, thank you." She turned to his aunt, and said, in Greek, "This is excellent, Kyria" - indicating the moussaka.

  The Greek woman beamed and, as soon as Lucia had finished her first helping, urged her to have some more. The meal ended with fruit, and Greek coffee. Afterwards, Lucia asked, through Nicholas, if she could help his aunt to clear the table, and wash the dishes. But when this offer had been translated to her, Kyria Katina looked quite shocked, and replied that Lucia must rest after her long journey.

  "Come - we will go up to the roof garden, and watch the sea by moonlight," said Yannis, taking her by the hand, and leading her from the room.

  They reached the roof by way of an outside staircase.

  "It is cooler now. Perhaps you should have a coat," he suggested, as they leaned against the parapet, and looked down at the glittering sea.

  "It's not cold. It's a lovely night," said Lucia, drawing in a deep breath of the clean, salty air.

  He put his arm round her, and stroked her bare arm. "You feel warm. I like this scent you wear. What is it called?"

  "It's Blue Grass toilet water." She tried to move casually away.

  But his hand tightened on her arm, and held her still. He sniffed the nape of her neck. "Mm ... it's very good," he murmured. And then he kissed her, behind the ear.

  Somewhat to her surprise, Lucia was neither annoyed nor embarrassed. To be honest, she found it rather enjoyable. But when Yannis then turned her round, with the evident intention of kissing her on the mouth, she held him off, and said mildly, "No, Yannis - please don't."

  "Why not?" he asked, looking perplexed. "You like me, don't you?"

  "Yes, I like you," she began. "But—"

  "And you are not betrothed?"

  "No."

  "Then why do you say I must not kiss you?"

  "This time yesterday, we hadn't met," she reminded him.

  "I wanted to kiss you last night," he said, smiling down at her. "If it would give us both pleasure, why must we wait?"

  It was a question for which she had no ready answer, apart from the conventional one she had already given. To deny that she would enjoy being kissed would be pure hypocrisy, for even having his arms round her was a nice feeling. And although it was less than twenty-four hours since she had first set eyes on him, already she felt that she knew him quite well - and that there was much to like about him, quite apart from his physical magnificence.

  Taking her hesitation for acquiescence, Yannis slid his right arm more firmly round her and, with his left hand, gently caressed her upturned face.

  But, at the very moment when she would have to resist, or be kissed, she suddenly realized that they no longer had the roof to themselves. A few yards away, by the staircase, Nicholas was standing, watching them.

  Her indrawn breath, and the pressure of her hands against his chest, made Yannis laugh and say softly, "Don't be shy, beautiful Lucia."

  In spite of his low tone, Nicholas heard what he said.

  "You're mistaken, Yannis," he remarked, strolling towards them. "Lucia isn't shy. It's merely that she doesn't approve of light-hearted kisses. Isn't that so, Lucia?"

  She did not answer. But Yannis, entirely unabashed by his cousin's intrusion, kept his arm round her waist, and said good-humouredly, "I didn't hear you come up, Nico. Where is Miss Cathy?"

  "She's still rather off colour, so I advised her to have an early night"

  "I - 1 think I will, too, if you don't mind?" Lucia said quickly. "Goodnight, Yannis. Goodnight" - to Nicholas.

  She had been in her room for only a few moments when the connecting door opened, and Cathy came in.

  "A fine holiday this is going to be," she said petulantly. "There's nothing to do on this island. It's like the back of beyond."

  "Well, it's no use complaining to me," Lucia said, rather tersely. "You're the one who wanted to come."

  "There's no need to bite my head off. What are you ratty about?"

  "Nothing. I'm tired, that's all. Go to bed, Cathy. We both need a good night's rest."

  "Oh, all right... if that's the mood you're in." Huffily, Cathy withdrew.

  Lucia bit her lip. She had not meant to snap at her sister. But after what had happened on the roof, her emotions were in too much confusion for her to bear the younger girl's grumbles with patience.

  Cathy was not the only one for whom, in more senses than one, it had been an exacting day.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Very early the next morning, before anyone else was astir, Lucia slipped out of the house to go for a walk.

  In spite of her disturbed state of mind the previous night, she had fallen asleep within minutes of turning out the light, and had slept soundly until four o'clock. Then something had woken her, and she had been unable to doze off again.

  She had not gone far from the house when she heard a whistle. Turning, she was annoyed to see Nicholas coming up the hillside after her.

  Fortunately, he was too far away to see the vexation on her face, and by the time he caught up with her, she had masked it.

  "Good morning. You're up early," he said, as he reached her. "You didn't find your bed uncomfortable, I hope?"

  "No, quite the reverse," she said politely. "I don't know why I woke so early. But my father said this was the best time of day on the islands, so I thought I'd come out and explore. I didn't know anyone else was about yet."

  "The others won't be up for an hour or so, but I always rise early at Marina. You don't mind if I join you, I hope? I want to have a talk with you." And with this somewhat daunting statement, he fell into step beside her.

  Presently, when they had been walking in silence for about ten minutes, Lucia asked, "Are there any classical sites on Marina?"

  "No, none," he told her. "But there are the remains of a temple on one of the small islands you can see from the house. The place is uninhabited, but we sometimes go over for
picnics. We might spend a day there next week. There's not much left of the temple - just some paving, and a couple of pillars. But we'll be spending the last two days of your holiday in Athens, so you'll have a chance to see the Parthenon."

  "That reminds me - we owe you some money," said Lucia.

  He raised his eyebrows. "What for?"

  "For our room at the hotel in Athens the night before last. When I asked for the bill, they said it had already been paid." '

  "Certainly - you were there as my guests."

  "Oh, but that isn't right. You must let us know what we owe you."

  "Why?" he asked, with a glint of amusement. "If you can accept my hospitality here, why not in Athens?"

  "Well... it's not the same," she objected awkwardly. "The hotel was obviously an expensive one. We can't possibly allow you to pay for it."

  "Since I was responsible for your staying there, and I'm also rather better off than you are, it's proper that I should pay for it," he answered reasonably. Then he grinned, his dark eyes mocking her. "You're too punctilious, 'beautiful Lucia'."

  When Yannis called her that, she could take it lightly. But when Nicholas echoed his cousin, even to tease her, a strange little tremor ran through her. Deciding to take the offensive, she said, with attempted nonchalance, "Is that what you want to talk about? To warn me not to take Yannis seriously?"

  "I can't imagine that you would," he replied, with a shrug.

  Instead of being appeased by this answer, Lucia found it rather annoying. "I don't know why not," she said airily. "I should think most women would be attracted to Yannis. He's not only very good-looking, but seems to be a nice person too."

  "He's also a Greek," he said dryly.

  "What has that to do with it?"

  Nicholas looked amused again. "In Greece, love is one thing, and marriage is another. Greek men may be hot- blooded, but they aren't romantic in the English sense. Here, the girl with the best marriage prospects is the one with the largest dowry, not the one with the prettiest face. And Greeks very rarely marry foreigners. They believe in the proverb - 'A homemade shoe, even if it's patched, is the best'."

  Lucia made no comment on this but, a little further on, she said, "What did you want to talk about?"

  "Let's sit down for ten minutes, shall we?"

  They had reached a place, high on the headland, where the ground levelled out, and there was a stretch of rough grass and wild flowers, and two or three ancient olive trees.

  "What do you think of the children?" he asked, when they had settled themselves.

  Lucia was wearing a cornflower shirt, and paler blue trousers which allowed her to sit with; her arms round her updrawn knees. "They seem charming," she said, looking towards the far headland on the other side of the bay.

  Her father had told her about the extraordinary purity of the light in the Aegean, especially in the early hours of the day. This morning, she saw for herself what he had meant. It was as if, all her life, she had been seeing the world through a dusty window. Now the glass had been washed and polished, and the colours and shapes of the landscape were so rich and distinct that the expression "to feast the eyes" took on a new meaning for her.

  "It was about the children that I wanted to talk," said Nicholas, lighting a cigarette. "I feel it's advisable for you to know the reason they're here without their parents - just in case they mention anything to you. They aren't supposed to know about it, of course, but I'm fairly certain Francesca does, and possibly Stephen too." He paused, his black brows contracted. "The fact is that my sister and her husband are on the brink of parting company."

  "I see," said Lucia quietly. "Yes - I think Francesca does know." When he gave her an interrogative glance, she explained, "I asked her yesterday if her parents were here, and I thought then there was a rather unhappy look on her face when she said her father was at home, and her mother was in Paris."

  Nicholas drew on his cigarette. "My God, what fools people can be!" he exclaimed, with a rasp in his voice. "They've had a darned good marriage for fifteen years. Now, between them, they're going to wreck their own lives, and the children's as well."

  The exasperation in his face and voice surprised Lucia. If she had ever considered the matter, she would have supposed that his attitude to the break-up of a marriage would be one of cynical indifference.

  She said, "Well, if people can't get on together, it's sometimes better for the children if they do separate. I have a child in my class whose parents fight like cat and dog. The poor little boy has no security at all."

  "Yes, that may be so in some instances," Nicholas agreed, rather impatiently. "But this is not a case of basic incompatibility. Until quite recently, Sofia and Richard were happy enough. They're making a mountain out of a molehill."

  Naturally, Lucia was curious to know the cause of the rift. But she hesitated to ask in case he should think she was prying.

  He fell silent for some minutes, and it was while he was in this state of frowning abstraction that she caught herself thinking what a well-cut, generous mouth he had, and how broad and strong his shoulders were. These were not the kind of thoughts she wanted to have about him, and it vexed her that she should so easily succumb to them when, in more important respects, she was inclined to dislike and mistrust him.

  "The trouble with women is that they can never accept the defects of people's qualities," he said.

  For once he was not trying to nettle her. Indeed, Lucia felt that he might have forgotten she was there, and was thinking aloud.

  "What do you mean?" she asked.

  He glanced at her then, but still with a rather absent expression. "Sofia was brought up by another branch of the family," he said. "She looks and thinks like an Englishwoman. There's very little Greek blood in her. She's a capable, strong-minded girl, with a talent for organization. I wouldn't call her domineering. She's never had to fight to get her own way because Richard is an easy-going type who doesn't mind her managing things. But when a man lets his wife wear the trousers, she ought to realize that he's likely to be easily led by other people."

  He paused, looking at a tiny, flying insect which had alighted on his darkly-tanned forearm. After a moment, he blew it away, and went on, "Unfortunately, Sofia's discovered that my brother-in-law had been involved with one of the secretaries in his office. It's over now, and it never amounted to much. But for one damn-fool lapse, she's seriously considering leaving him."

  Lucia studied the toes of her gay scarlet denim holiday shoes. "What do you mean by 'it never amounted to much'?"

  Nicholas crushed out his cigarette. "Richard was never serious about the girl. It was she who made all the running."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because I met her once, and she tried to entangle me," he said dryly. He gave her a sardonic smile. "There are predatory females too, you know."

  "Perhaps that is what your sister can't forgive," suggested Lucia. "Perhaps she feels more humiliated because your brother-in-law didn't really care about the girl. I think, if I were married, I could forgive my husband for falling in love with someone else-but not for a casual affair."

  "If you made him happy, he wouldn't need anyone else."

  "You mean if a man goes off the rails, it's not his fault, it's his wife's," she said, rather acidly. "I suppose you think your sister ought to overlook the whole thing."

  "No - but I think it would be a pity to disrupt five lives for the sake of pride," he answered mildly.

  "Surely it's more than a matter of pride?" she retorted, trying not to show her indignation. "How would you feel if you were married, and your wife was unfaithful to you? Would you swallow your pride, and forgive her for 'one foolish lapse'?"

  "Certainly not!" he said promptly. "But that's an entirely different matter."

  "I don't see why. It doesn't seem different to me."

  The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "How you do resent any suggestion that women are not men's equals!"

  Her colour rose. "I
happen to think they are. You don't, I gather?"

  "I know they are not," he said blandly. "But that isn't to say I regard women as inferior."

  "Well, that's handsome of you," she said, with a sting in her voice.

  He grinned. "My dear girl, you may be inexperienced, but you're not ignorant. In theory, I daresay you're a good deal wiser than Cathy. You know as well as I do that a woman's emotional make-up is quite different from a man's. Equality doesn't come into it."

  She said, with her face averted, "You mean a man can make love to someone without it meaning anything special, but most women can't do that."

  "Exactly," he said. "For a woman there is always some degree of commitment. For a man - very often none at all."

  Lucia got to her feet, and dusted the seat of her pants. Then, digging her hands into her pockets, she said, "I'm not sure I believe in that premise. It's a very convenient one, of course."

  With one lithe movement, he was on his feet beside her. "It's not a premise, it's an indisputable fact." His eyes narrowed and glinted. "I'll prove it to you, if you like."

  She backed a pace, her heart thumping. "Prove it? What do you mean?"

  He smiled. "If I kissed you, you wouldn't forget it. You'd remember it all your life."

  His effrontery took her breath away. Then her chin came up, and she said, her voice not quite steady, "While you'd forget it in five minutes?"

  "Ah, that I can't say till I've tried it. Perhaps... perhaps not. You might surprise me, 'beautiful Lucia'."

  "It hasn't occurred to you, I suppose, that I might not want you to kiss me - that I might remember it as something unpleasant which once happened to me?"

  His white teeth showed for an instant. "That's another thing about women. They're almost never honest with themselves. You'd enjoy being kissed as much as I'd enjoy kissing you. Why not be truthful, and admit it?"

  "Because it doesn't happen to be true," she informed him hotly.

  He lifted a sceptical eyebrow. "If it isn't, there must be something wrong with you. Any girl of your age who has never been made love to should be getting pretty impatient, I'd say."