Moon of Aphrodite (23 page)

head bent over that everlasting embroidery she had brought with her. Helen paused at

the trench windows and looked in at them. 'The family party,' she thought with a little

stifled sigh. 'And I'm the outsider.'

Michael Korialis glanced up and saw her. 'Come in, pedhi mou. Ariadne was looking for

you just a moment ago. She intends to drive into Kyritha. Do you wish to go with her?'

'Yes, I think I wil .' Helen advanced into the saloni, conscious that Soula had glanced up

and awarded her white sleeveless blouse and dark green cotton wrap-round skirt with

its enormous bow just over her left hip nought out of ten for chic and al ure. Soula

herself was wearing crepe-de-chine in pastel colours, with delicate spike-heeled

sandals. For someone who was actual y quite robustly built, she managed to exude an

air of helpless fragility, Helen thought, and gave herself a mental kick for being spiteful.

She forced herself to smile to the other girl. 'Would you like to come with us, Soula?

You've hardly seen the vil age.'

'What is to see?' Soula lifted a shoulder in a graceful shrug. 'It is a smal vil age. There

is nothing there of interest.'

'Perhaps you and Eleni are interested in different things,' said Damon. He had not

looked at Helen since she entered the room, and he did not look at her now. Al his

attention seemed concentrated on the chessboard
and
his next move.

He means Craig Lassiter, Helen thought, feeling an angry flush steal into her cheeks.

She said with a deliberate drawl, 'Actual y I
find Kyritha has a fascination al its own. But

I couldn't expect you to understand that.'

At that he did look up. 'On the contrary, I understand very wel ,' he said, and the

contempt in his eyes made her flinch. Muttering something about finding Madame

Stavros, Helen made her escape.

It appeared that the afternoon's jaunt was in search of some tapestry wool. Greek

women seemed to have a passion for fancy work of al kinds, and Kyritha boasted a

shop sel ing canvas, wools, embroidery silks, transfers, cushions and tablecloths. Helen

couldn't figure out where al the customers came from, but it seemed to do a roaring

trade. Every house on the island must be dripping with hand-embroidered table runners

and wal panels.

Madame Stavros's speciality was tapestry cushions, and she made up her own designs

and patterns, using beads and glitter threads to add extra life and colour. She had

offered to teach Helen, but she had declined, albeit reluctantly. She had this ridiculous

vision of herself and Soula spending the long summer evenings stabbing needles

through their respective patterns and wishing they were stabbing each other.

Kyritha was crowded, and Kostas had to park the car some distance from the shops.

The embroidery shop was packed out when they readied it and Madame Stavros made

a little face.

'I shal have a long wait, it seems. Perhaps I should leave it for another day. You wil be

bored, my dear child.'

'I can always go for a stroll,' said Helen. 'We can meet later at the kafenion.' She saw

the palpable hesitation, the indecision in Madame Stavros' face, and sighed. 'I haven't

any assignations planned.'

'I am sure you have not,' Madame assured her. 'Yon are a good child. But not everyone

is as good,' She gave a brisk shrug. 'Go along, then,’ she said. 'We wil meet in twenty

minutes.'

Helen wandered along the waterfront, dodging between the laughing, chattering groups

of holiday-makers, and avoiding the solemn row of smal boys edging the harbour wal

with their fishing rods. She could see Phaedra riding at her moorings, and the sight o£

her made her heart turn over. She had thought there could be nothing worse than the

humiliation she had suffered at Damon's hands on board Phaedra. Wel , she knew

differently now.

She was deliberately walking away from Craig's taverna, so it was sheer bad luck that

she should almost bump into him. She smothered a groan, Madame Stavros would Stil

be queueing for her tapestry wool, but Kostas would be around somewhere, and no one

would believe she hadn't planned this meeting.

He drawled, 'Surprise, surprise. I thought you were back in England.'

'Don't tel me the local grapevine has broken down,' Helen said sarcastical y.

'Oh, it's stil operating, but now it has the al -conquering Mr. Leandros paired off with

another lady.

He's a fast worker, I'l give him credit for that.' Suddenly he was brimming with

resentment, and she looked at him to surprise. 'Not two days after he saw us together,

I got a letter from his lawyers in Athens pushing the rent for the taverna through the

bloody roof. There's no way I can pay it, and he knows it. Business has never been that

wonderful. The Greeks can be very clannish, especial y on Phoros.'

Helen said hotly. 'But that's dreadful It's your living. What are you going to do?'

He shrugged. 'Get out and make a new start somewhere else, where his shadow

doesn't fal .'

She said, her voice shaking, 'I'm sorry, Craig. I'm real y sorry.'

He nodded. 'It'l teach me to be careful about the calibre of my future enemies. Perhaps

I'l
see you again before I leave.'

'Are you leaving soon?' she asked.

'Within
the next day or two.' He grimaced slightly. 'I suppose I should be flattered that

he thought me a risk. But he was way off target, wasn't he, Helen? I fancied you, but

you didn't fancy me.'

She flushed. 'This is hardly the time or place ...' she began, and he nodded again,

patting her arm.

'Be seeing you,' he said, and went on his way. She watched him go, and while she

couldn't summon up a great deal of regret, she felt burdened by guilt. She had

deliberately implied to Damon that Craig might be important to her, when she knew

perfectly wel there was not a grain of truth in it. If she had never spoken to Craig,

never shared his lunch on board the caique, he might stil have his taverna, she thought

remorseful y.

She was shocked to her heart's core at the pettiness of Damon's revenge. It was

unforgivable—like taking a sledgehammer to kil a fly. It would soon be time to meet

Madame Stavros, at the kafenion, and she hadn't the slightest desire for a cup of

coffee. She wanted to return to the
vil a and confront Damon with what he had done.

It was torture to have to sit under the awning of the kafenion and admire the tapestry

wool, and marvel at the exactness of the match, and some of her answers bordered on

the distrait, causing Madame Stavros to glance at her sharply.

She was so quiet on the homeward journey that Madame Stavros eventual y asked her

if she was il .

'A slight headache, that's al .'

Madame Stavros tutted, laying a cool and scented hand on Helen's forehead. 'When we

reach the vil a, you shal lie down and Josephina wil bring you some herb tea.'

Helen said with false brightness, 'That sounds wonderful.' She didn't want herb tea,

although some Dutch courage might not have come amiss. Either that or a copious

draught from Lethe-—the Waters of Forgetful-ness.

She wanted to be able to pul down a blind in her brain, wipe out the last few weeks as

if they had never been. She felt scarred emotional y, but the scars would fade in time.

Christopher might help—if he was stil waiting around, which she doubted. After al , she

had barely given him a thought since she left London. But if not him, there
would be

someone else.

She went straight to her room on reaching the vil a. The downstairs rooms were

deserted; everyone had gone up to change for dinner. Josephina appeared at once, and

insisted on helping Helen take off her blouse and skirt. Helen submitted to her

ministrations, and put on her white broderic anglaise housecoat, promising to wait

quietly on her bed until the promised herb tea was produced.

As soon as the coast was clear she slipped out of her room and ran on bare and silent

feet
to the
corridor where her grandfather's room was situated. Damon slept there too

—at least official y, Helen thought bitterly as she knocked quietly on the door.

He cal ed, 'Peraste.' He must have thought it was one of the servants.

Helen opened the door and went in. For a moment she thought her ears must have

deceived her, because the room was empty, and then he came out of the bathroom. He

had clearly just had a shower. His hair was wet, and his sole garment seemed to he a

towel ing bathrobe loosely belted round the middle.

He stopped dead when he saw Helen and his dark brows drew together in a frown.

'An unexpected pleasure, Eleni,' he said in a voice which conveyed not the slightest hint

of pleasure.

She swal owed. 'I have to talk to you,' she said rapidly. 'I heard today that you'd done a

rotten thing, and I have to tel you that you're wrong. I let you think I was interested in

Craig—to—to annoy you because I knew you didn't like him very much. But he means

nothing to me.'

'I am relieved to hear it.' He shrugged, his tone bored.

'Is that al you've got to say?'

'What more do you expect?'

'But doesn't it make any difference to you—to your attitude to Craig?'

'None at al .' He was silent for a moment, then he said quite gently, 'You Hatter

yourself, Eleni, if you imagine my actions over Lassiter were prompted by jealousy. I

was concerned that you might become involved with him, I admit, but my decision that

he must leave Phoros was taken long ago.'

Helen said, 'I don't understand
.'

'No, that is true. You have never understood. You let yourself believe that both

Michaelis and myself were blinded by prejudice over Lassiter.' His voice was even, but it

stung. 'And of course he was your countryman. It was perhaps natural that you should

wish to think wel of him, and badly of those vil ainous Greeks who see human life as an

entry on a balance sheet— or a clause in a contract.'

'I didn't know him wel enough to think wel or badly of him,' she said frankly. 'He was

pleasant to talk to, that was al . There was nothing else to it. You have to believe that.'

'I believe you. And I am glad of. it. You have been saved a great deal of misery.

Christina, of course, was not so fortunate.'

'Who is Christina?'

'His wife.'

'What?' It came out as a yelp. 'He's—married?'

Damon nodded. 'To a girl from Kyritha. How else do you suppose he acquired the

taverna? He did not know, of course, that Christina's family only rented it. He supposed

it belonged to them, and he saw it as a meal ticket for life. Her father was dead, and

her mother warned her about Lassiter, but she would not listen—for good reason. She

was pregnant.'

'He has a child as wel ,' Helen said slowly.

'No. The child died shortly after it was born.'

'How awful!'

'For Christina, yes. Lassiter knew little about it. He was off on a drinking and fishing trip

with one of his hippy friends. The funeral was over when he returned.'

Helen said, 'There was a girl at the taverna one day, sweeping the floor.'

'That is Christina. She was very pretty once. Now she works every hour of the day so

that he can spend the profits on drink and chasing other women.' He paused, then said

drily. 'It is as wel he is leaving Phoros, for his own sake. He has come very close to

being lynched by angry fathers in the past. The island can do without a man like that,

so I gave my lawyers certain instructions. They took longer to act on them than I had

expected, and unfortunately you met him. Kostas was very upset. Lassiter had tried to

seduce his sister, so his family had sent her to stay with an aunt on Hydra.'

'You mean Kostas thought Craig would try to seduce me?' She was going to say, 'Oh,

but that's ridiculous!' and then she remembered how she had felt on the caique.

'He has no love for either your grandfather or myself,' he said. 'He would probably have

found it very amusing to seduce you.'

'That's revolting,' she said shakily. .

'You would possibly have found it so,' Damon agreed. He picked up his watch from the

bed,
and fastened the gold bracelet round his wrist. 'Now if you wil excuse me, I would

like to dress.'

'Yes, of course.' She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. 'I—I'm sorry I said

what I did just now.'

His lips twisted sardonical y. 'You have said so many things, Eleni. One more makes

little difference, believe me.'

She did believe him. His eyes, his tone of voice, everything
about him proclaimed his

supreme indifference, and she wanted to fling herself at his feet and weep.

But instead she smiled and nodded brightly and said, 'Wel , I'l be going. I shan't be

down for dinner, I have a headache.'

'I have some aspirin, if you wish them.'

'No, no,' she said stil with that insane brightness. 'Josephina's going to dose me with

herbal tea. I shal be fine. Al I need is a good night's sleep.' She smiled, and got herself

out of the room somehow.