Where the Gods Dwell

by Celia Scott

  When they reached their destination she phoned the villa from Vasily's stuffy little office to say she would not be coming back that night. She thought the maid she spoke to said that neither the Kiria nor the Kirios would be home until late, but she was too anguished to take it in. It didn't matter anyway. He had told her to 'get away', and she would not spend another night under his roof.

  She plodded upstairs to Susan's room, putting one foot automatically in front of the other. She had discovered that if she made every movement very deliberately, paying strict attention to the minutest details… such as opening and closing her purse, or dialling the numbers on the phone… she could hang on to her self-control. By focusing all her attention on these instinctive actions the floodgates of emotion were kept closed.

  To her relief Susan was out, but her room-mate, a rather phlegmatic British girl, was there and lent Lorna the sleeping-bag she asked for without a moment's hesitation. Lorna put its rolled bulk under her arm and set off for Maria's little house.

  Her self-control wobbled perilously when Irene shot out of the house to greet her. The touch of those thin arms hugging her waist made her falter for a minute, but she blinked hard and forced her lips into the semblance of a smile.

  She managed to summon enough Greek to ask if she could stay overnight, and although Maria looked puzzled she didn't ask any awkward questions. Lorna hoped she might think that there had been an influx of visitors at the villa and her room was needed, although that seemed an unlikely explanation.

  The books were brought out and Lorna was given her Greek lesson, but she was a poor pupil this evening and Maria cut the lesson short. A half loaf of bread was produced, and some cheese, and for politeness' sake Lorna forced herself to eat some, but it was hard to swallow, for her throat felt as if she wore an iron collar round it, and she was relieved that Maria did not press her to take more.

  When their meagre supper had been cleared away, and a shade of violet twilight tinted the evening, they went to bed. The sleeping-bag was laid on the floor of Irene's room, and once that young lady had been persuaded to crawl out of it and into her own little bed, they settled down for the night.

  Lorna was convinced she wouldn't sleep a wink, for in spite of the deliberation of her movements, her mind was racing along on two levels. One to deal with the hurt Jason had dealt her, and the other to decide what to do about her immediate future.

  The first thing she had to do was to move out of the villa. She had no idea where she would go, there was no room for her at the taverna, and she couldn't impose on Maria indefinitely. But something would have to be worked out. Then she remembered the dark-room! That would have to stay where it was. And that meant she would have to keep going up to Jason's house all the time… and she couldn't bear that. And neither presumably could he! Hadn't he told her… brutally… 'get away from here'. Well, she would do what he commanded. Tomorrow she would give in her notice to Professor Spanakis and leave. She would plead illness, or a sudden emergency at home. She would leave the dig. Leave Crete. Drop the projected book, and fly home to Canada to lick her wounds. There she would pick up the shattered pieces of her life.

  This train of thought brought the scalding tears to her eyes, but with a monumental effort she controlled them, staring hard into the dark and willing herself not to give way. Time enough for tears when she was back home. A whole lifetime.

  She slept after a while. That same self-control that kept despair at bay also worked to induce sleep. She woke at dawn with a blind sense of loss and the echo of a dream where Jason had again thrust her away from him, and she knew that in spite of her iron will this kind of awakening would be habitual until the pain had dulled.

  Hastily she dressed and washed at the stone sink. She forced herself to eat a rusk and drink a glass of water, then she made for the taverna. She would drink a cup of coffee before tackling Professor Spanakis and handing in her notice. For with the daylight she was more convinced than ever that it was impossible to stay in the same country, let alone the same village, as Jason.

  As luck would have it the Professor's assistant, a pleasant middle-aged Greek named Katerina, was sitting under the plane tree having her breakfast. She was alone, and after fetching herself a cup of coffee from the kitchen Lorna joined her.

  She explained that she had had some bad news… which in a way was the truth since Jason's sudden hatred was the worst sort of news in the world… and that she would have to leave immediately. She gave Katerina the name of a photographer she knew of in Iraklion that she thought would replace her, and soothed her conscience with the knowledge that at least she wasn't leaving them in the lurch.

  Katerina said how sorry they would be to lose Lorna, but she didn't try to persuade her to stay. One look at the Canadian girl's clenched face was enough to convince her that something disastrous had occurred.

  'Do you wish to make the arrangements to leave this morning?' Katerina asked, and numbly Lorna said she did. 'Then I will tell you the news Professor Spanakis intends to announce to the team when they assemble on the site,' she said, 'you will want to know I am sure. Perhaps it will bring a little pleasure into your day.'

  Lorna was so ferociously unhappy she doubted anything could give her pleasure, but out of politeness she tried to look interested.

  'You will be glad to learn that the seal stones and the terracotta head have been recovered, and the culprit has been apprehended.' She glowed triumphantly. 'Is that not splendid news?'

  'It certainly is,' Lorna agreed. 'Who was the thief?'

  The woman's face clouded. 'That is not such good news,' she said, 'for it brings sorrow to the family who have been so kind to us.'

  Instantly alert Lorna asked, 'You mean… the Peritakis family?'

  Katerina nodded. 'The thief was Nikos Peritakis.'

  The moment Katerina had uttered his name Lorna wondered how she could have been so blind. Why! he must have been disposing of the seal stones the weekend of Kosti's party. That was why he never made it! She remembered him on the Monday morning, hung-over and unshaven, waving his drachma-stuffed wallet at her. Boasting that he had money now. How could she have been so dim! But her attention had been focused on Jason and the problems of love. The puzzle of the missing seal stones was the last thing on her mind.

  Well, that riddle had been solved, and she was relieved the stolen artifacts were recovered. But what a blow for Jason and his mother. Her heart ached, not only for herself, but for them too. She would have given anything to have been able to comfort Jason. Try to make him see that she understood and sympathised. But she was sure any attempt at consolation on her part would not be welcome, and that the sooner she left the island—and his life—the happier he would be.

  With a heart as heavy as an iron bar she left Katerina and walked through the orange grove to the villa to pack and let Madam Peritakis know that she was leaving. She had no doubt that if Jason was there he would stay out of her way. He'd made it pretty clear that he didn't want any further confrontations with her.

  She crept into the house and up to her room where she hurriedly threw her clothes into the two suitcases she'd brought with her from Canada. Shoving a few toilet articles and a change of underwear into an overnight bag, she put on jeans and shirt and went in search of Madam Peritakis. She found her in the little garden-room watering plants. She was wearing a housecoat. Her face was lined with fatigue and her eyelids were puffy and reddened. Lorna guessed she had been crying.

  'Ah! My dear! I was worried about you,' she said, putting down her watering-can. 'You were not at breakfast and then the servants told me you had not been home.' She looked at Lorna searchingly. 'Is something wrong?'

  'Yes. I… I have to go… back to Canada.' She lowered her eyes.

  'Your family! Something has happened?' Jason's mother asked sharply.

  Lorna found that she could not produce the excuse that there was 'trouble at home'. She was a bad liar at the best of times, and besides Madam Peritakis had been so kind to
her, she deserved better. But she couldn't tell her the real reason either, so she said, 'My family's fine… but…' Her voice broke. 'I… I can't stay here. Please accept that and don't ask me to explain.'

  'It will be very lonely when you are gone.' The older woman looked bereft, and Lorna knew she was reeling from one piece of unpleasant news after another.

  'I know about Nikos,' Lorna said, 'I'm so sorry.'

  'It is a terrible grief to us,' she spoke slowly. 'Our name is disgraced.' Her eyes held Lorna's. 'Is it because of this that you wish to leave us?'

  'Because of Nikos? Of course not! It makes no difference to the way I feel about you or…' she choked, 'or… any of you. How could it?'

  'Oh! It might to some,' said Madam Peritakis, 'but I did not think it would to you.' She seated herself on a cane sofa. 'Come and sit with me, Lorna.' And when Lorna had perched herself beside her, she said, 'Will you be coming back?'

  'No. I… I can't come back.' Her voice grew shaky again. 'I've given in my notice… I'm flying home at once.'

  'I had hoped that you were beginning to think of this as your home,' Jason's mother said gently.

  'I did… I do…' Lorna muttered and then gave up because the treacherous tears had flooded her eyes and she didn't trust herself to speak any more.

  Madam Peritakis put her arm around the girl's slender shoulders. 'There, there child!' she comforted. 'It will be all right.'

  'You've been so kind… I'll never forget you.' She tried to smile through a mist of tears.

  Madam Peritakis said suddenly, 'Lorna I wish you to do something for me.'

  'Of course.' Lorna found a tissue in the pocket of her jeans and wiped her eyes.

  'I wish you to take a walk up the mountain.'

  Lorna opened her tear-stained eyes wide. 'You want me to take a walk?' she echoed. 'Now!'

  'Yes… Up the mountain… I want you to go as far as the plateau. There is a small waterfall. It is about an hour's walk…'

  'But I'm all packed and…'

  'I want you to… to… to take a photograph of it for me,' Madam Peritakis went on in a sudden rush. 'I have been meaning to ask you to do this thing for some time. But… since you are leaving us so soon… there will be no other opportunity.' She bit her lips hesitantly, like an actress who has just delivered a bad reading.

  'Of course I will, Madam,' Lorna answered. She was not too happy about this unexpected commission. A walk in the mountains… Jason's mountains… was the last thing she wanted to do. But she was under an obligation. It would have been ungracious to refuse. 'I'll go now,' she said, 'the light should be just right in about an hour.'

  'Have you ever been up there?' Madam Peritakis asked.

  'No, I haven't.' She had always followed the swift glassy curve of the stream down into the valley.

  'It is one of my favourite places in the world. Up where the gods dwell.'

  'Where the gods dwell?'

  'It is said that the gods live high up in the mountains.' She patted Lorna's hand. 'When you get there ask them to be kind to you. Who knows—they may be listening.' She rose to her feet. 'And now you had better go, or… or you will miss the light,' she finished dismissively.

  Within minutes Lorna was climbing the path Madam Peritakis had pointed out. But this exploration held no delights for her. She hardly noticed the sweet smell of thyme, and the stony fields of yellow flowers waving in the sunshine. The chattering of the shallow river seemed to be saying… goodbye… goodbye … So that Lorna—who hated all goodbyes—was overwhelmed with sadness.

  She plodded on for some time, her legs like lead. Then the track, which had wound steadily upwards for about a mile, twisted round an outcrop of jagged rock. She clambered around this barrier and was suddenly on the plateau.

  Even in her numbed misery the beauty of the place made her gasp. It was bigger than she had imagined. A wide field protected on all sides by the mountain and backed by a smooth wall of rock that soared up into the clouds. The stream tumbled down over this escarpment in a steep waterfall. It was dwindled now by the summer's heat, but she could imagine the rushing torrents of springtime. There was a clear pool of sweet water at the base, rimmed with silvery sand. Some black-green cypresses grew around this oasis, and the air smelt of resin. Far away she could hear the muffled din of goat bells.

  She stood for a long time in this heavenly spot whose beauty pierced her heart, then she unslung her camera and went to work.

  When she had finished she removed her battered sun-hat and crouched by the pool to splash her hot face, then cupping her hands she drank from the falls. The ice-cold water tasted sharply of minerals within the rock.

  Refreshed she stood up and tilted her head back to look at the savage peaks above. The idea of the gods living up here didn't seem so fantastic when you were surrounded by this awesome scenery, and she said aloud:

  'Dear Greek gods, please make Jason love me again. Please make him love me.' She knew she was being childish, but she would have tried anything to win him back. Voodoo… black magic… the lot!

  She bent to pick up her hat and stood dusting sand from the brim. Then she gave a little sudden cry and dropped it. For, like an answer to her prayer, he was standing by the outcrop of rock where the path joined the plateau.

  'The gods cannot help you, Lorna,' he said quietly, and she wondered how he could be so cruel.

  'I know that.' Her voice was quivering with shock. 'I know that you hate me. I didn't know you were there, or…'

  'The gods cannot help you because I have never stopped loving you.' He took a step towards her. 'Hate you! My darling…oh! my darling, I love you with all my heart.'

  'It didn't sound like it when you sent me away.' She still flinched at the memory.

  'That was because you had walked into a trap. A trap set for Nikos… When you came up that street I nearly died.' He came and stood before her and she was shocked at the lines of strain on his handsome face.

  'Why didn't you tell me it was a trap? I thought you never wanted to see me again,' she choked, her eyes swimming with tears.

  'Lorna! Agapi mou, don't cry.' He made to take her into his arms, but she avoided him. She had to have a fuller explanation before she surrendered.

  He ran his hand through his sleek black hair so that it fell untidily over his brow. 'That little street was alive with police,' he said, 'they were hidden in every shop in the vicinity.'

  She gazed at him steadily, her eyes still brimming. 'But why there?

  'I was waiting in a place where stolen goods can be sold,' he explained. 'We had reason to believe Nikos would try to dispose of the terracotta there. But when you arrived… mou Theos!' His face grew haggard at the memory. 'I was terrified that the police would think you were in partnership with Nikos. I was desperate to get you out of danger.'

  'But why didn't you tell me of this trap beforehand?' Lorna said. 'Didn't you trust me to keep a secret?'

  'I would trust you with my life, Lorna,' his eyes were a steady flame, 'but I had promised the inspector I would not tell anyone. We were acting on a… how is it? On a… hunch only. My mother knew of our suspicions, but even she knew nothing of our plans.'

  Lorna's first reaction was to protest that by not taking her into his confidence he was shutting her out of his life again, but she had learnt her bitter lesson, and instead she kept silent and waited for him to go on with his story.

  'A little while after you had gone, as I had dreaded, Nikos arrived. He went into the shop and attempted to sell the little head, and we caught him red-handed as you say.' His face clouded. 'I did not enjoy that moment. Nikos broke down completely when he saw me. He confessed to stealing and selling the seal stones in the same way… indeed the shop owner produced them in an attempt to lessen the charges against himself.' He sighed deeply. 'I suspected Nikos from the first,' he said. 'I wish to God I had been mistaken.'

  'Where is Nikos now?' Lorna asked.

  'After he had been taken to the police station… mou Theos! Tha
t was dreadful Lorna. He cried like a woman and begged me to save him… and I was powerless.' His mouth tensed, and she could sense the pain in him. 'I contacted my mother at her meeting and got her to come to Rethimnon with our lawyer. I paid bail and then, after much discussion long into the night, Nikos agreed to await trial at the monastery near our village. Perhaps the good brothers will be able to help him to find courage.'

  He took her unresisting hand in his and at his touch she gave a sob and burst into tears. With a cry he gathered her into his arms, stroking her hair, murmuring brokenly in his own tongue, kissing away her tears that now fell unchecked.

  'Agapi mou it is all right… do not cry… it is all right now.'

  'I've… I've been so unhappy…' she gulped.

  'I, too, my darling.' He smoothed a strand of hair away from her wet cheek. 'I am nothing without you, Lorna,' he said, 'last night, when we returned home and I could not find you…' He held her tighter and she put her arms round his waist and clung to him. 'Where did you run to?'

  'I stayed with Maria.' She snuggled closer. 'I couldn't stay at the villa. Not after you'd told me to go away.'

  'I did not mean from me,' he groaned, and she kissed his warm cheek.

  'I know that now,' she whispered.

  He pulled her down to sit next to him on the warm sand. 'Thank God I found you here,' he said. 'I was nearly mad with despair.'

  'How did you know where to look?' She remembered her impassioned plea and giggled, glancing over his head to the high mountain tops. 'The gods must have been listening after all.'

  'They had a little help from my mother,' he smiled.

  'Your mother?'

  'She knew I had gone again to find news of you and she phoned the taverna to say I would find you here at the plateau.'

  'She wanted a photograph… she said.' Lorna chuckled, remembering that sudden brusque request.