‘No,’ Emily agreed, ‘I don’t suppose we are. Though I can think of more desirable reasons for marriage than for my virtue,’ she added dryly. ‘I’d rather be loved, truly loved for myself.’
‘You think Demis doesn’t love you?’ There was a glint in Chrisoula’s eyes that was very reminiscent of her brother. ‘Are you so difficult to love?’
This was not, Emily could see, the sort of conversation anyone should be having with a sixteen-year-old.
‘You must ask your brother that,’ she said repressively, and wondered why the Greek girl should be openly laughing at her.
‘I will tell him that you have doubts,’ Chrisoula teased her. ‘That will put him on his mettle, kuniatha mou. He has the reputation of being a very good lover!’
Emily shrugged her shoulders. ‘There are other things in life besides making love.’
‘Oh, Emily, how quaint you are! You are so shy about the most ordinary things! No wonder Demis fell in love with you.’ She sighed heavily. ‘You must be missing him very much?’
Well, there was no point in pretending about that, Emily decided. ‘Yes, I do,’ she said.
The insistent ring of the telephone bell tore apart the silence that had followed Emily’s words. The two girls looked at each other, both of them startled by the interruption.
‘Shall I answer it?’ Chrisoula offered.
Emily nodded her head. ‘It’s probably for you anyway.’ She watched the young girl cross the room, her carriage every bit as graceful as her brother’s, though far more feminine. There was no one else she knew who moved in quite the same way as Demis did. They lacked the quick thrust and the imperative, male authority with which he surveyed the world.
‘It’s for you,’ Chrisoula announced in flat tones.
Emily was taken aback. ‘It can’t be!’ she exclaimed.
Chrisoula held out the receiver to her. ‘It’s expensive telephoning from England,’ she reproved. ‘Don’t keep him waiting!’
Emily put the receiver to her ear. ‘Demis?’ she asked.
‘Were you expecting it to be someone else?’ his voice came back to her. ‘One of those who provide the variety you claim to like so much?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she claimed.
‘Good. For you have room for only one man in your life, agape. Has that young sister of mine left the room?’
Emily looked round the room, a little surprised to find that she was alone. ‘Yes.’
‘You sound afraid. What do you think I can do to you over the phone? I thought you would be braver with a thousand miles between us!’
‘I am quite indifferent to how far away you are! If I sound concerned, it’s because I’m naturally worried about my father—whom you won’t allow me to see—’
‘It’s best for you to be in Greece, until you get used to things as they are,’ he interrupted her. ‘Your father is feeling better and we shall soon conclude our business together. He agrees with me that it is too soon for you to visit him. You would do better to prepare yourself for my return, Emily.’
‘I shall never be a Greek wife, sitting at home, waiting to do my husband’s bidding! You can’t keep me here for ever.’
‘You are the woman of my house now. It was agreed between us when you promised to marry—’
‘I didn’t agree to anything of the kind!’ she exploded angrily.
‘Naturally you would not put it into words at that time. The agreement was between your father and myself that I should shoulder the responsibility for your future happiness.’
‘And when do I have my say?’ she inquired dangerously.
‘We shall ratify the agreement together, where a man and woman should, in each other’s arms.’
Emily felt weak at the knees. ‘Never! You promised—’
‘I promised you would not regret marrying me. Be practical, Emily, there is more to real life than the romantic notions you use as a wedge between us. Don’t you know how much I want you?’
‘As a woman, but not as a wife!’
‘My dear girl, is there any difference? No, don’t answer that now, but think, about it—think hard, think about yourself, and think about me too. It’s impossible to argue with you over such a distance. Tell me instead what you have been doing today?’
How could she answer that? Should she tell him about Keith? she wondered, but she knew he would only forbid her to go walking with him, and he had no right to command her in anything. Somehow she had to make this clear to him before it was too late. Too late for what, she didn’t bother to ask.
‘I managed to amuse myself,’ she said.
‘With Chrisoula?’
‘Some of the time,’ she compromised, trying not to sound guilty. ‘Barbara is coming home tomorrow,’ she added quickly.
‘Chrisoula is a safer friend for you, even if she is a bit younger,’ he remarked. ‘Don’t let Barbara push you into trouble because of the ceaseless war she wages with me.’
‘Why should she do that?’ Emily countered, beginning to think she had more in common with Barbara than she had thought.
He sounded amused. ‘Giorgios has let her get out of control, but I shan’t make that mistake with you, Emily mou, so be warned and don’t do anything foolish.’
Emily made a face at the receiver. ‘Giorgios sounds nice.’
‘He’s very nice, but he has his own wife. He’s not for you and he won’t understand if you go out of your way to flirt with him that you’re only getting at me, but I shall, and I shall act accordingly.’
‘No wonder even your sister dislikes you!’ Emily told him. ‘You’re so unbearably superior about everything and everyone! Why should Barbara be controlled by anyone? Can’t she make up her own mind about the way she wants to live?’
‘Only if it gave her any happiness. Wait until you’ve met her and then see if I’m not right. Meanwhile, dream of me tonight, my lovely Aphrodite, and I’ll be home with you as soon as I can arrange things here. Shall I give your love to your family?’
‘Yes, please do, to all of them.’ She held the receiver so tightly in her hand that her knuckles turned white. ‘And to Hermione too! She is there, I presume?’
There was an instant’s silence. ‘Jealous?’ her husband asked her.
‘Of you? You must be mad!’
‘You have no need to be jealous of Hermione, yineka. If you allow her to hurt you it will be your own fault.’
‘Oh? How do you work that out?’
‘She is not my wife,’ he said with an amused tolerance that infuriated her. ‘A happily married man has no need to seek the company of other women.’
‘Demis Kaladonis, I hate you! Do you know that?’
‘Emily Kaladonou, look into your heart again and then tell me that you hate me—if you can. Do you think I don’t know when a woman is interested in me as a man? I knew with you when I gave you my seat on the train. Why do you try so hard to deny it?’
‘Because I don’t like you!’
His tongue clicked against his teeth. ‘Never mind, I like you far too well to let you go. Don’t you wish we were close enough to kiss now? Alas! I must go and speak some more with your father. Pleasant dreams, Emily mou!’
Emily put the receiver back in its cradle. How dared he cut up her peace in this way, when she couldn’t even put him out of countenance by asking after Hermione? Well, he needn’t think she was going to sit around and wait for him to come back to her like some tame mouse he had put in a cage and forgotten while he had more interesting things to do and other mice to play with. This was a game for any number to play. He had Hermione, but she had Keith Forest. It was a pity the Englishman didn’t cut a more exotic figure, but he was easily managed and with very little encouragement she would have him eating out of her hand.
‘See how you like that, Demis Kaladonis!’ she addressed the silent telephone.
Emily could only wonder at her own ill-humour. The day was exactly right for walking, neither too hot nor too co
ld; and the scenery was all that could be desired even by those who were hardest to please. There was nothing wrong with Keith either. He knew exactly when to speak and when to be silent, he was able to tell her all about the place they were off to see, and he had supplied them with a picnic lunch that at another time would have made her hungry just to think about it.
No, the fault lay in herself. She had spent a sleepless night, working herself into a frenzy by inventing clever remarks by which she could have got the better of Demis on the telephone had she been more quick-witted, and had he fed her the right words for her to cap, thus putting him once and for all in his place.
Perhaps a restaurant wouldn’t satisfy her ambitions when she had it. Not that she had ever intended it to be the whole of her life. She had always planned to marry and have children, but her future husband had been a nebulous figure who would have had little impact on the main tenor of her life. He had been nothing at all like Demis Kaladonis—
‘You’re not listening, Emily,’ Keith complained.
‘I’m sorry,’ Emily said automatically.
‘I said, if Tiryns was already a stronghold of a king when Perseus founded Mycenae, how come Perseus was said to have ruled over both places?’
‘I expect he took Tiryns by force of arms. It must have been an enviable property in those days. Just look at those walls!’
The walls in question were of gigantic proportions. No wonder the ancient Greeks had thought them to have been built by that legendary race of beings, the Cyclops. Like most men they had been only too prepared to undervalue the technology and the ability of their own ancestors.
Emily trailed after Keith along one of the huge arched passageways, suppressing a strong desire to return to the sunshine away from the evocative atmosphere of oppressive disaster that clung to the massive rocks.
‘Wasn’t it from Tiryns that Herakles carried out the tasks that Eurystheus, the king of Mycenae, had imposed on him?’
‘Was it?’ Keith wasn’t much interested in a story he couldn’t believe in. For him, wars and rumours of wars were a much more satisfying subject to exercise his imagination on. ‘Think of it, that people who actually lived here fought alongside Agamemnon at Troy!’
‘I’ve never thought that Helen was worth all the fuss,’ Emily said dully. ‘Why ever didn’t they let her go—if that was what she wanted to do?’
Keith gave her a horrified glance. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Of course,’ she maintained. ‘You wouldn’t plunge your whole world into a war over some woman, would you?’
Keith stared at her, his mouth working. ‘I might. Things are different nowadays. I can think of some men who would, though. Perhaps they’re more possessive than I am.’
Emily’s eyes widened. ‘Do you think it’s a Greek characteristic?’ she demanded.
‘They’re more old-fashioned than we are in their attitudes towards women. Henry VIII may have executed two of his wives for being unfaithful to him, but I can’t imagine an Englishman doing that sort of thing today. It may be different here. Most of the Greeks I’ve met seem to think they own their wives, and a typical one would certainly have something to say if another man tried to take her away from him. I wouldn’t much fancy being the erring wife, come to that!’
Emily shivered. ‘I wouldn’t like any man to think he owned me.’
Keith shrugged, his attention wandering to the western staircase that led up to the ruins of the palace on the top of the mound. ‘Greek thinking is different from ours,’ he said. ‘One flesh and all that, you know. You can still see many peasant women helping their men in their work. If a man needs someone to hold a piece of wood he is sawing, who better to do it than his wife?’
‘Peasants, yes, but not other people, surely?’
Keith grasped her reluctant hand and pulled her up the staircase to the top with its tremendous view across the citrus orchards and towards the sea at Nauplia.
‘What’s your worry?’ he said. ‘You’re not thinking of marrying a Greek, are you?’ He caught her other hand and pulled her up hard against him. ‘Like should marry like, if you ask me. You’d be much safer with an Englishman.’ He smiled slowly. ‘Don’t you think so?’
Safer, perhaps, but it was too late for safety now. Emily released herself, veiling her eyes from his eager look.
‘I wasn’t thinking of myself at all,’ she said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Emily shrugged herself deeper into her coat as the chill wind from the sea made her shiver. Nauplia harbour was as black as ink and the only sound was the soft sucking noise of the miniature waves as the tethered boats rose and fell by the side of the wharf.
‘Trust Barbara to insist on sailing at night,’ Demetrios said with disgust. ‘What time is it now?’
Emily glanced down at her watch. ‘Almost midnight,’ she answered on a sigh. She was tired too. The walk to Tiryns had been a qualified success, but afterwards Keith had wanted her to go back with him to the room he had rented in the town and he had taken her refusal badly.
‘What do you want from me?’ he had asked her.
‘Someone to walk with,’ she had told him uneasily, and had not been entirely surprised by his mocking laughter. ‘Truly, I don’t know you well enough to— to—’
‘D’you think you’ll know me well enough by tomorrow?’
‘Keith, I don’t think you understand—’
‘Oh yes, I do, pet. You’re well on the way to becoming a tease, d’you know that? You’re too old, and you’ve been on your own for too long, to be as shy and as inexperienced as you pretend.’
‘Then we’d better not see each other again!’ she had flashed back at him. If she had had a fraction of Margaret’s confidence, she had thought bitterly, she would have had him eating out of her hand instead of allowing him to tear her into little strips for his amusement. ‘Why can’t we just go walking with each other—as friends?’ she had pleaded.
‘My dear girl, have a look in your mirror and you’ll see the answer to that! What have you got against the exchange of a few kisses?’
That had been the moment to tell him she was married, but she hadn’t done so. Instead, she had managed to look almost as uncomfortable as she had felt, and had said firmly, ‘I don’t feel like it.’
‘Okay. That’s all you had to say,’ he had answered. ‘I’ll be moving on then. Goodbye, Emily.’
She had stared at him, wide-eyed. ‘But I want to go to Corinth tomorrow. I thought you did too?’
His mouth had worked in the way it had when he was thinking. ‘I’ll think about it;’ he had said.
Even thinking about it now, Emily felt a vast impatience with the way she had handled the whole conversation. Why couldn’t they be friends? Why couldn’t they have had a nice, moderate relationship with no emphasis at all on the fact that they happened to belong to opposite sexes? Why all the screaming banner headlines, when the situation was merely that they were both English and were both at a loose end?
‘I haven’t much taste for romance,’ she had told him bluntly.
‘You’re telling me!’ he had retorted. Which had accentuated how different he was from Demis, she had thought, not without satisfaction. Demis treated her as though she were a romantic fool of the first water, with one eye on cloud nine and one on Mr. Demis Kaladonis, and her feet permanently several feet off the ground. He was the only person she knew who had ever seen her other than practical and everyday in her reactions to life.
She shivered again and exchanged glances in the darkness with her brother-in-law. ‘I wonder why they didn’t wait until tomorrow?’ she said.
Demetrios laughed without much humour. ‘You haven’t met Barbara yet! She’d have had poor old Giorgios heading for home at the first opportunity the moment she heard about you!’
‘But why? I’d still have been here tomorrow.’
‘Barbara will think she should have been here to meet you.’ Demetrios jumped from one foot to the other in an effort to
keep warm. ‘Didn’t Demis tell you about her?’
‘He didn’t really tell me about any of you.’
Demetrios grinned. ‘I guess he thought you could look after yourself. Chrisoula likes you well enough.’
‘I’m glad,’ she said simply. ‘How about you?’
He shrugged. ‘Demis always said he would never marry anyone but a Greek girl, so you were kind of unexpected. That’s not to say I don’t like you, but Demis is a jealous devil and I have no intention of getting on the wrong side of him. It’s bad enough having Barbara putting his back up all the time.’
‘Deliberately?’ Emily asked.
His laughter was caustic. ‘Of course deliberately! She won’t allow he has any authority as head of the family—’
‘Why should he have? She’s married, isn’t she? And of age?’
‘Giorgios doesn’t pretend to have any control over her, so being married doesn’t count.’ She was glad that in the darkness she could not be sure of his expression. ‘Giorgios isn’t at all like Demis,’ he said dryly. ‘He doesn’t mind submitting to petticoat rule—that’s most of Barbara’s problem, if you ask me. If Giorgios would only stand up to her she’d be as sweet as honey.’
Emily hunched up her shoulders, turning her back on him. ‘You’re more like your brother than I thought. Men don’t have to rule the roost, you know. Sometimes we women like to take a turn at having our own way!’
Demetrios patted her kindly on the shoulder. ‘I shall love to see you telling Demis what to do—about anything important,’ he added. ‘If you ask me—’