Honeymoon with Death

by Honeymoon

  Teddy took her hand and pulled her along through the double wooden doors that stood open. Inside it was much cooler. Behind a reception desk a young woman with raven hair and brown eyes was writing something in a ledger. She looked up at them and smiled. “Good afternoon. Mr and Mrs Ramsforth?”

  Her English was accented but clear and Damaris nodded happily. “We’re here on our honeymoon.”

  The girl pointed at herself. “Medea. If you need anything, you ask for me, yes?”

  “Medea, like in the tragedy?” Teddy asked. “You must be a dangerous woman.”

  The girl flushed and giggled.

  Damaris stepped closer to Teddy. Everywhere he went women were immediately interested in him and Teddy didn’t mind flirting with them. At least, Damaris thought, it is only flirting and Teddy says he is just being polite. She didn’t want to become a jealous wife, but still…

  The girl turned the ledger around so Teddy could write their names and address in it.

  Damaris felt a rush of excitement that her address was no longer a C number, and that she lived on a real estate.

  Admittedly, the estate belonged to Teddy’s brother and his wife, and Teddy had no right to it, but he was about to set up his own business with a friend and once income from that would start to come in, they’d buy their own house. In Kensington maybe.

  Damaris couldn’t wait to take her place among the fashionable wives and go shopping at the best shops and visit tearooms for entire afternoons, not just taking a cup of tea and pining after the cakes that were too expensive for her budget but ordering everything she fancied and having the bill sent to her home address for her husband to take care of.

  The pen scratched across the paper, and Damaris let her gaze wander through the hall. To her right was a door leading into what looked to be the dining room with some tables decked out in white, and sunshine gliding in across the tiled floor. To her left was an archway leading into what had to be a patio or walled garden. She smelled the green and heard birds sing.

  Suddenly her mind projected two potted palms into the corridor leading to the patio and a boy figure hiding behind one of them. And a little girl’s voice was counting, “One, two, three, I’m coming to get you!” The memory was so vivid that she could feel the cold tiles under her bare feet and smell the earth in the outer garden. “I’m coming,” she had called.

  But not in English.

  Damaris shook her head. This was madness. She had never been here before. She had never seen potted palms in that corridor or played games with Greek children. Her lively imagination was dragging her along again. Like it did in her nightmares.

  She shivered a moment.

  Teddy gave the ledger and pen back to Medea and turned to her. “Shall we have a look at the suite?’

  “It’s in a separate building, through there.” Medea pointed into the corridor. “The open door at the end leads into a walled yard. You cross it and you see the suite’s entry.” She handed him a key.

  “Thank you.” Teddy frowned at Damaris. “What’s the matter, darling? You look pale.”

  “It’s nothing. I’m tired from the journey.”

  “Yes, of course. You must lie down a bit before dinner. Come on.” Teddy wrapped his arm around her and led her into the corridor.

  As she passed the point where she had envisioned the potted palms, a name whispered through her head. Cyril. The little boy’s name had been Cyril.

  But she didn’t know anyone called Cyril. Was the heat playing tricks on her mind? Maybe she should have drunk more water?

  They stepped into the bright sunshine of the walled garden. Blossoming plants spread an invigorating sweet scent, and butterflies danced away on the breeze. Right ahead was a heavy wooden door with gold painted leaves and grapes.

  Teddy pointed to it. “Our suite. How do you like it?”

  “I can only see the door.”

  “Well, it’s the most beautiful door I ever saw. Come on.” Teddy led her through the garden and then inserted the key in the lock. He pushed the door open. She wanted to step in but he halted her. “I have to carry you.”

  He swept her up in his arms and carried her across the threshold and into a room with a large four-poster bed. Heavy blue curtains hung down to the floor and the sheets were embroidered with blue patterns as well. On their pillows a small token was left for each of them: a bright white shell with a coin inside.

  “That’s for good luck,” Teddy said. “Keep them close to your heart and never lose them.”

  He set her down on her feet but held on to her, kissing her hair.

  Damaris looked around, at the carpet on the floor, the whitewashed walls, the narrow barred window, the door leading into the bathroom. It stood half-open, giving a glimpse of a gold-framed mirror and a large tub. She laughed out loud. “I could stay here for ever. It’s perfect.”

  She turned her head to Teddy. “Thank you for bringing me here. Thank you for turning my life around. Thank you, thank you.” She hugged his neck tightly.

  Teddy patted her back. It was almost like her outburst made him uncomfortable.

  For a brief moment Damaris wondered if he found her a little too intense at times. Odd maybe, even.

  Emotionally unstable?

  She let go of him. “I have to put my flowers into water. What time is dinner?”

  * * *

  Gideon Hawtree parked his car beside the hotel and rounded it quickly to help his wife from the passenger seat. She looked impeccable in a tight dark green dress with a white gauze shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her towering heels gave her already tall posture extra height. She tucked her purse under her arm and stood a moment with the carefree confidence that had attracted him to her from the first moment he had seen her.

  Robin never wondered what people thought about her. She was herself, something Gideon found irresistible. Raised in the shadow of a brilliant younger brother who had been heralded as the new Mozart, he had always ached to be someone else – to be like his brother… no, to be his brother. He had envied Hector for everything: Mother’s attention, Father’s admiration, the private tutors, the audiences at his performances. He had even envied him when he had been in his coffin: more beautiful than ever with the paleness of death upon his features, for ever young, a talent broken in the bud.

  Gideon had realised, too late, that Hector’s fame would be even greater now because people would attribute more to him than he might ever have been able to achieve. He could have turned out to be lazy, or later in life inclined to drinking or gambling, other excesses brilliant minds might indulge in to counterbalance having to be so perfect all of the time. But Hector had never had the chance to disappoint anyone. Before he could, he had died, establishing an image that would for ever be unblemished.

  Gideon clenched his hands into fists, then relaxed them consciously. He was far away from home, the estate with the tomb, the unspoken accusation in his mother’s eyes, the careful avoidance of the name. He was here on a gorgeous island with the woman he loved, the woman he had chosen in spite of his family’s warnings. Mother had said he’d never be able to satisfy her – well, he’d prove her wrong. He’d prove all of them wrong. They thought he’d never amount to anything. But he would soon show them differently.

  Robin’s eyes descended on him. “What are we waiting for?” She held out her arm to him, and obediently he slipped his through hers.

  Uncertainty gnawed at him, and the words came out before he could think them through. “What if we don’t look surprised enough? How can you look surprised if you knew all along what was coming?”

  How could you feign grief when you weren’t sad at all? If only he had been able to squeeze out a few tears at his brother’s funeral, his mother might not have thought he knew more about Hector’s sudden death. But tears didn’t appear when you wanted them to.

  And surprise?

  He felt like his voice would be too high-pitched and the slap of his hand on Teddy’s shoulder too loud. That ever
yone would look at him and see he was faking it.

  “Let me take the lead,” Robin said. “And don’t ramble.”

  Dread beat in his chest as he led her inside. The dining room was to their right and he wanted to turn into it. But Robin stopped him. She nodded up ahead. “They’re coming. Perfect timing.”

  Gideon watched as from the open doors that led into the walled garden a couple emerged. Teddy, tall and immaculate in his dinner jacket, and the girl by his side radiant in a dark red dress. They had never met her when they were in London. Robin had said it was better that way. Gideon hadn’t really understood but he hadn’t asked either: he couldn’t stand her to look at him as if he was the densest creature alive.

  “Teddy!” Robin’s cry was a mixture of surprise and delight. She waved a hand and stepped forward. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  Teddy halted and gawked. Gideon didn’t know a better word for the way his eyes bulged and his mouth fell open. It was way too much but of course Robin would like it. She liked whatever others did and only criticised Gideon.

  “What are you doing here?” Teddy said. “We’re honeymooning here, of course, but I thought you were in Paris. Gideon mentioned something like that to me last week. Some inventors’ conference?”

  Robin smiled widely. “Yes, but we travelled on to Athens and then a friend of a friend offered to lend us the key to his house here on the island for a few days. Total privacy. We couldn’t say no. What a delightful coincidence.”

  She turned to the girl. “Hello there. You must be Damaris. Teddy’s told us so much about you. You totally swept him off his feet. He couldn’t talk about anything else.”

  She leaned forward and kissed the girl on the cheeks as if they were old friends meeting up. Then she pointed at Gideon. “This is my husband, Gideon Hawtree.”

  Gideon shook the girl’s hand. He resisted the urge to shuffle his feet and kept his eyes straight on her. “Pleased to meet you. Like Robin says, Teddy was so full of you. First time I saw my friend truly in love.”

  The words came out easily and Robin gave him a quick look as if she couldn’t believe how well he was doing.

  Encouraged, Gideon smiled warmly while he held Damaris’s hand just that much longer. “It’s no small feat to conquer Teddy’s heart. Lots of ladies tried, but without success.”

  Damaris blushed as if she was pleased with his words.

  Robin said, a little too loudly, “Well, yes, we’re here to dine so…”

  “Oh, you must join us,” Teddy said. “I want to hear everything about that conference in Paris. Did you find an investor?”

  Gideon’s elation died a quick death. This wasn’t the topic he wanted to discuss, at least not now. Not so soon.

  Robin said, “That’s a long story. Shall we find a place first and order something to drink?” She took Damaris by the arm. “You must tell me where you bought this gorgeous dress. It looks so well on you.”

  The two women walked off, chattering.

  Teddy looked at Gideon. It seemed he wanted to say something, then thought better of it. In silence the men followed the women into the dining room.

  * * *

  Dinner was almost over, the ice-cream remains melting on the plates and the waiter bringing strong coffee in very small cups. Damaris felt tiredness creeping through her body, making her eyelids heavy. Robin’s laughter grated across her nerves and she wished the guests would take their leave so they could go to bed. She tried to recall whether she had met them at the wedding reception, but there had been so many people that their faces and names were a bit of a blur. All she could remember clearly was a sense of dread as she had realised how well known and well connected her new husband really was. She, an orphan with no money, marrying a man who invited half of London to his wedding reception.

  Teddy had laughed it off when she had mentioned the number of people present, and had said it was all his mother’s doing. “She enjoys big events,” he had added almost as an afterthought. “She can’t do it often. Not like she used to.”

  Damaris had no idea what he had referred to and she hadn’t really cared either, just warmed herself at the thought that it had been too much in Teddy’s opinion too and she needn’t worry about it.

  “We’d better leave,” Robin said and smiled at Damaris. “Our bride looks like she’s falling asleep.”

  Damaris flushed. “It was a very long day.”

  “Of course, of course.” Gideon had already stood up. “Thank you for inviting us to dine with you. It was a very pleasant evening.’

  “You must come and see our house,” Robin said. “I mean, it isn’t ours, of course, but we’d love to show it off. Such a gorgeous location.”

  “We’ll drop by soon,” Teddy said.

  Damaris hoped he was just being polite and didn’t really intend to go and visit his friends. She had hoped for time alone with him and it was enough of a shock to find friends of his staying at this very island. It wasn’t that large and didn’t seem to be a tourist attraction either.

  They walked the pair to the door of the hotel and waved, then turned to go to their room. Teddy halted in the walled garden. “I’ve forgotten my lighter. You go in, darling. I’ll only be a moment.” He gave her the key and walked away.

  Damaris turned to the door and inserted the key in the lock. It turned with a creaking sound. She was suddenly aware of the darkness of the walled garden behind her back with the plants like grasping fingers. The mosaic came back to her, laid out on the dock, the dark shells reaching for the woman’s ankles.

  She pushed the door open and ducked inside, shutting it quickly behind her back. Leaning against it, she listened to her ragged breathing. Silly girl. There’s nothing to be afraid of here.

  There was no electric light to turn on so she had to feel her way to the bed where there were oil lamps on the bedside tables. As she felt for the match box to light her lamp, for a moment she believed she felt something tickle against her hand. She gasped and then forced herself to strike a match and light the lamp.

  The flame broke to life, quivering on the air. She moved the match to the lamp. The hesitant light fell over the bedside table and…

  She dropped the match and screamed.

  * * *

  Teddy tossed his lighter in the air and caught it in his palm again. He was just about to step into the garden when he heard the piercing scream. He froze and stared as a figure came dashing through the garden and threw herself at him.

  Damaris shrieked, “The bouquet! It came alive!”

  Teddy hugged her to him. She was shaking all over. “Bouquet? Alive?’

  He pulled her back into the hotel’s lit lobby. At the reception desk an old man had taken the girl Medea’s place. He looked at them and asked something in Greek.

  Teddy called out in English, “A brandy, quickly. She’s had a shock.”

  When the man stared at him, seemingly not understanding, he made a drinking gesture with his hand. The man got up and shuffled off.

  Damaris was sobbing on his shoulder.

  “Calm down,” Teddy said. “What on earth happened?”

  “I came into the room. It was dark. I wanted to light the lamp beside the bed.” She gasped for breath and he took her with him and planted her on a broad wooden bench that stood against the wall.

  “Take it easy now. Tell me quietly.”

  “I wanted to light the lamp. I felt my way over. I picked up the matches. I felt something against my hand.” She shrieked and hid her face in her palms.

  Teddy patted her shoulder. “I’m here. You’re safe now. So you felt something against your hand, and then…?”

  “I lit the match and I saw them. The entire bouquet was full of beetles. Terrible black beetles. They were everywhere.” Damaris sobbed.

  “Beetles? I saw that bouquet up close. It was just flowers. There wasn’t a beetle in it. Let alone big ones.” Teddy eyed the shivering woman in his arms. Was she suffering from some kind of sunstroke? See
ing things that weren’t there?

  “You must have imagined it,” he said.

  “Imagined it?” Damaris’s eyes were wild. “I saw them! Dozens of them. It was horrible.”

  “Calm down now. I’m sure we can catch them.” Teddy held her against him and patted her back again. “I don’t mind beetles. I’ll catch them and then I’ll release them outside.”

  “Do you think they came in through that barred window? Why doesn’t it have glass in it? I don’t want to sleep in a room full of insects.”

  “I just said I’ll catch them and get rid of them.” Teddy rubbed her lower back. “It will be all right.”

  He felt slightly embarrassed at the idea that his new wife had acted so dramatically just because of a few beetles in the bedroom. But women also panicked when they saw a mouse, so he probably shouldn’t blame her.

  The old man came shuffling up to them and handed him a glass. Teddy looked at the colourless liquid inside. “What is it?”

  The man said something he couldn’t understand. Ruddy locals. Should speak some English if they want to work in a hotel.

  He took a sip himself. No taste. Water?

  He hadn’t asked for water. But the old man had probably just understood the drinking gesture. And women who were hysterical had to drink water, he recalled.

  He held out the glass to her.

  “What is that?” Damaris asked. Her eyes went a shade darker. “I don’t need a sedative. I’m not crazy.”

  * * *

  Damaris’s heart was still beating beneath her chest bone as if it wanted to force a way out of her chest. Those horrible black beetles crawling over the bouquet, the vase it stood in, the bedside table. She could just scream again thinking of it.

  And then that glass held out to her and the voice. Drink this.

  Not Teddy’s voice. Another’s. Drink this. It had had a strange taste and then the world had gone black.