Rachel Lindsay - The Taming of Laura

by Rachel Lindsay

  "Don't you ever hanker after flying?" she asked Celia.

  "I did to begin with but not any more. I suppose I must be a domesticated female at heart. I love shopping and keeping house and waiting for Tim to come home. Marriage is a wonderful institution, Laura. You should try it some———— " She stopped, her face flooding with colour, "I'm sorry. I keep forgetting about you and…"

  "Don't apologise, darling. And for heaven's sake don't be afraid to mention Nikolaos' name." Laura stood up. "We can't pretend my marriage never happened and we'd be stupid to try."

  "I know." Celia picked up a bundle of socks and began to sort them. "What's happening between you and that husband of yours?"

  "I should imagine we'll get divorced. I'm sure he'll be able to expedite it in all the circumstances."

  "I'm sure he will," Celia said dryly. "Any man who can fall out of love with you as quickly as he did—"

  "Don't say that," Laura interrupted. "How do you know that I wasn't the one to fall out of love? Surely you remember the doubts I had on my wedding day?"

  "Of course I remember. And I think I know why you had them. In my opinion you loved Nikolaos so much that you were afraid of the power he was going to have over you. That of course is the drawback to marrying a man like him. You could never lead a life of your own."

  "A woman in love with Nikolaos would never want to lead a life of her own," Laura said softly. "She'd be glad to give up her freedom because she would get so much in return. She'd always have the knowledge that his strength was behind her and that his tenderness and love would be given to no one else."

  There was a long silence broken by Celia collecting all the socks into a pile and angrily dumping them into her workbasket. "Well, all I can say is that it's a pity it ended the way it did, and my advice to you is to stop carrying the torch for him. Oh, I know you put on a great big act and pretend you're happy, but you're not the same person any more. You're empty inside."

  "You're letting your imagination run away with you," Laura answered. "After all, it's only four months since we parted. Give me time to get over him."

  But as she lay in bed that night she wondered if she would ever be able to think of Nikolaos without her very bones melting. Life stretched bleakly ahead of her; days filled with work, with people and with travel, yet none of them satisfying. "What a fool I was," she cried. "What a stupid fool I was."

  When she went down to breakfast in the morning Celia was already sitting in the kitchen munching some toast and reading the morning papers. "Have a look at this," she said, and held out the front page.

  Laura took it and stared down at a picture of Melissa and Philip Burrows walking arm in arm through Hyde Park. Quickly she read the caption: "The engagement is announced today of Melissa Dimar, cousin of Nikolaos Dimar, the shipping tycoon, and Dr. Philip Burrows, Registrar of St. Millicent's Hospital. Miss Dimar contracted polio last autumn and was a patient in St. Millicent's. 'But I knew Philip a long time before,' she admitted, 'and we hope to be married very shortly'."

  "Well?" Celia said. "I thought you told me your husband had positively refused to give his consent."

  "I don't understand it. It isn't like him to change his mind."

  "Maybe he's learning he isn't a hundred per cent right a hundred per cent of the time."

  Without answering, Laura poured herself a cup of tea, remembering the last time she had talked to Nikolaos about his cousin.

  "Marriage to a foreigner will not work out," he had said. "Besides, even though she loves him now she'll forget him in the arms of another man. You have made me a cynic about love, Laura. I don't believe in it any more."

  Yet Melissa's engagement to Philip proved that he had gone back on everything he had said. Was it because Irene had taught him what love really meant?

  Abruptly she pushed away her cup, suddenly determined to clarify the situation between herself and Nikolaos. She must know what he intended to do about the future and how long it would be before she could count herself really free. Her mind reverted to Melissa and she felt a surge of gladness at the girl's happiness and a sudden, unexpected desire to see her. Yet this would be embarrassing for them both. The only thing she could do was to write and congratulate her and later that morning she did so, wasting many sheets of paper before she eventually penned a note which did not give away too much of her own personal feelings.

  "I did not get in touch with you before because I knew you would be upset at my leaving your cousin. However, I was so delighted to read of your engagement to Philip that I simply had to write and congratulate you."

  Although she did not expect an immediate reply, Laura could not help looking forward to every post, but the end of the week came and she reported for duty again without having heard from the Greek girl.

  'Not that I blame her,' she thought as she prepared lunch in the galley of the T.M.A. Stratocruiser. 'From her point of view I treated Nikolaos shamefully — although now that he's with Irene she must surely realise that the blame wasn't all mine.'

  Laura did not return to England for ten days, spending her slip-over in Beirut. The heat was so intense that she did not leave the grounds of the hotel but spent the days resting in a hammock and the evenings lying on her bed, the windows wide open and the mosquito nets seeming to block off the very air itself. By the time she reached London she was completely enervated. Working hard during the day, unable to sleep at night, there was no doubt that unless she took herself in hand she would become ill. Her headaches were becoming more and more frequent and she pressed her hand on her eyes and thought longingly of her flat and being able to close the door on everyone.

  Dejected, she got off the bus and walked down the road. Outside her lodgings a Sunbeam Rapier was parked, the hood down, the leopardskin upholstery attracting the attention of a group of children. Wondering who owned such a car in this neighbourhood, Laura mounted the steps to her flat. On the top landing a slim back turned at her approach and with an exclamation of surprise she recognized Melissa.

  "Laura!" The girl ran forward. "It's so good to see you after all this time. Every day I telephoned the airport to see if you were back." She gave Laura a push. "Open the door and ask me in."

  "I'm sorry," Laura stammered. "I never expected to see you." She led the way into the sitting-room. "Will you have a drink?"

  "No thanks, but I'll have a cigarette."

  Laura handed her one and took one herself. There was an indefinable change in the Greek girl and it did not take her long to realise what it was. The old Melissa had been unhappy and worried; this one was radiant, glowing with confidence in the bliss of a secure love.

  "You look wonderful," Laura said huskily.

  "Thank you. I wish I could say the same about you. You're so thin, darling. You look as if a breath of wind would blow you away."

  Laura shrugged. "I'm on the Middle East route and I always lose weight in the heat. But don't let's talk about me, I want to hear all your news. How's Philip?"

  "Wonderful. We're getting married next week. I don't know what made—" she hesitated and then, as if realising that the word had to be spoken, took a breath and said, "I don't know what made Nikolaos change his mind —but he did! Suddenly, without any warning, he went to see Philip at the hospital. He took him out for lunch, told him he would give his consent to my marrying him and did he want to be set up in Harley Street?" She giggled. "Trust my cousin to suggest a thing like that! You can imagine what Philip said in reply! Anyway, they came to some understanding so everything's worked out fine." She spread out her hands. "But it's you I'm worried about."

  "Whatever for?" Laura took off her jacket and undid the first few buttons of her blouse. Seeing her reflection in the mirror, she knew what Melissa meant. In the last ten days she had grown thinner and her hair, usually so glossy and full of life, clung damply to her head. "For goodness' sake don't worry about me," she said firmly. "I'm perfectly all right."

  "You don't look it. In fact, you look almost as ill as Niko
laos."

  "Nikolaos ill?" Laura swung round, pretence forgotten in her fear. "What's the matter with him? Why didn't you tell me before?"

  Melissa stared, a strange expression on her face. "I never said he was ill. Only that he looked ill. I don't know what went wrong between you, Laura, but… I hate to see you like this. Isn't there something I can do, some way—"

  "No," Laura said harshly, "there isn't. And I don't want to talk about it. I should never have married him and all I want now is to give him his freedom."

  "My cousin will never be free of you." Melissa stubbed out her cigarette. "He'll never forget you, either. These last few months he's been impossible." She threw up her hands. "I've never known anyone work the way he does. All day and half the night. Backwards and forwards to America and South America. At one time he used to delegate some of the responsibility to the other people but since you left him he's taken it all on his own shoulders. He can't go on like this without cracking up. Andreas begged him to come and see you but he wouldn't. In fact he's forbidden us to mention your name."

  Laura listened with growing amazement. "I don't understand. Why should Nikolaos be upset because I left him? He hated me."

  "You mean you hated him?"

  "I didn't!" Laura turned away, fighting for control. After a moment she turned round, her face composed again. "How is Irene?"

  "Irene? Why bring her into it?"

  "For heaven's sake don't pretend you don't know what I mean!" Laura said sharply. "Nikolaos loves her."

  "You're mad! Really, Laura, if you wanted to leave no one could stop you, but don't put the blame on anyone except yourself."

  "I'm tired of blaming myself! The fault wasn't all mine—it was Nikolaos' as well. I admit I was wrong to marry him. From the beginning it was a complete farce —you might as well know that now. But he didn't show me much understanding either. If he'd been kinder, more patient…" She beat one hand against the other, the pretence at calm long since dissolved. "I didn't realise until too late that I was falling in love with him. It was something that grew gradually and by the time I recognised it, I had lost him." She walked over to the mantelpiece and stared down at the empty grate. Behind her the springs of the armchair creaked as Melissa moved.

  "Why didn't you tell Nikolaos the way you felt?"

  "I intended to the day he got back from America. I— I went down to meet him at the airport but his plane was delayed and I returned home." Laura's voice was high, shaking. "Irene was there and—oh, what's the use of talking? You obviously don't know the whole situation."

  "I obviously don't," Melissa said. "But I'm going to' find out. Tell me about it."

  "Why? So that you can go back and make him laugh?" The moment Laura said the words, she regretted them. "I'm sorry. I'd no right to say that."

  "Don't apologise," the Greek girl said gently. "Just tell me what happened."

  "Very well." In a quiet voice, Laura told of her return from the airport four months ago to find Irene Ridgeway waiting for her. Only when she referred to the tie-pin did her voice momentarily break. "So you see I did what I thought best. I'd made Nikolaos unhappy and the only way I could help him was to let him make a new life with Irene."

  There was a long silence broken only when Melissa flung her arms into the air and began to talk excitedly in Greek. She stopped as suddenly as she had begun. "I'm sorry, Laura. I forgot you do not understand and when I am excited I———— " She smiled. "Thank God you told me this. If you hadn't…" She came over and caught Laura's arm. "If Nikolaos and Irene love one another, can you tell me why she went off to the Argentine and he is trying to work himself to death?"

  "I—I—don't understand," Laura stammered.

  "But it's so simple! I don't care what story she concocted when she showed you the tie-pin. All I do know is that Nikolaos is not in love with her. Maybe he was when he was a boy, but now he's a man and he loves you."

  "He doesn't! It's not true."

  "Then why has he been behaving the way he has, and why did Irene rush off to South America? Nikolaos wouldn't talk about it but Andreas told me that when he called at the flat one evening he heard them having a dreadful row."

  Laura was trembling so much she could not stand. With every fibre of her being she longed to believe what Melissa was saying, but there were too many questions in her mind still unanswered. "If Nikolaos loved me all the time, why didn't he give me some hint? Why did he act as if he hated me?"

  "Pride," Melissa said simply. "The same pride that made you run away without talking to him first. But now you've wasted enough time. There is nothing to stop you going back to him."

  "It's impossible!"

  "Why? You love each other, Laura, for heaven's sake don't be so obstinate!"

  "Why didn't he come to me?"

  "How could you expect him to? On your own admission you threw his love back in his face."

  Laura buried her head in her hands. Tears she had held at bay for so long flowed down her cheeks, bringing with them relief from the torment of the last few months.

  For a long while Melissa let her cry, then she sat down beside her and took her by the shoulders. "Darling, stop it. You're wasting time and you've already wasted far too much. Let me take you back to Nikolaos."

  "No! It isn't as easy as that. I must have time to think about it." Laura lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed. "How do I know he won't refuse to talk to me?"

  "You've got to take that chance. Go back, Laura, go back."

  For the rest of the day Melissa's words beat in Laura's brain, driving her out into the streets, to the shops, to the cinema. But always the thought of Nikolaos was with her, his face dark and stern before her eyes, his voice cutting and icy in her ears. To go back and have him refuse her would be the final humiliation; yet not to go back would be even worse. Love for him outweighed her pride and feverishly she hailed a taxi.

  Entering the block of flats in Park Lane she felt as if she were stepping back into the past, a feeling heightened by the sight of Bingham when he opened the door for her.

  "Is my husband home?" she said abruptly, ignoring the expression of surprise on his face.

  "No, Mrs. Dimar. But I'm expecting him. If you'll come in, I'll telephone and "

  "No, don't do that. I'll wait." She stepped past him into the hall. Everything was as she had remembered it: the thick carpets, the paintings, the large bowl of flowers on the table, their scent filling her nostrils.

  "Can I get you anything, Madam?"

  "No thank you."

  She walked into the drawing-room. Here too nothing had changed: the tapestried sofas, the Aubusson carpet and mellow golden lights dispelling the looming purple dusk. She wandered on to the terrace and sat down in a hammock, but she was too restless to remain in one place for long and she got up again and walked over to the french windows, stopping as she heard the front door open. Bingham was not in view and she knew that Nikolaos was unaware of her presence. Through the half- open door she saw him drop his hat and brief-case on a chair and then come into the room. He walked over to a table, his hand automatically going out to a jade cigarette box. In the light from a nearby standard lamp she saw that if the intervening months had changed her, they had also left their mark on him, for his face was noticeably thinner, the lines either side of his mouth more deeply carved into his skin and his temples, once flecked with grey, now quite silver.

  "Oh my darling," she murmured.

  Startled, he half turned and saw her. "Laura," he said huskily. He rubbed his hand across his eyes and took a step forward. "It is Laura, isn't it?"

  "Yes." She came into the room, trembling so much she could hardly walk. "I'm sorry to come without letting you know but ———— "

  "What do you want?" His voice was harsh, his hand pressing so hard on his cigarette that it began to disintegrate. "What do you want?" he repeated.

  "I came to tell you that I'm sorry for running away and to…" She hesitated, and then realising that she had to make the f
irst move, said: "And to ask if you'll take me back."

  "Are you finding your freedom irksome?"

  "I don't have any freedom," she said shakily. "I can never be free of you."

  "Don't tell me I've given you a guilt complex?" He walked over to a table and lifted the whisky decanter. "Can I give you a drink before you go?"

  Tears filled her eyes as she stared at his back. How stupid she had been to think that he would forgive her. She had hurt him once and he was determined not to let her do so again. It was better for her to go. She moved across the carpet and only as she walked past the sofa did she turn for one last look at him. He was pouring himself a whisky, but his hands were shaking so much that the bottle top rattled against the rim of the glass.

  Suddenly she could bear it no longer and without thinking she ran over and took it from his hands. "Nikolaos, I love you. I don't care if you throw me out but I've got to tell you I love you."

  "Is this a new game you're playing?" he asked jerkily. "I warn you, Laura, I'm in no mood to ———— "

  "But I mean it! I've loved you for a long time and—"

  "Then why did you run away?"

  "Because of Irene."

  He stared at her for a moment then taking her by the shoulders, pulled her roughly forward until she was in the full glare of a lamp. "You're not lying to me, are you, Laura? This isn't some plot you've thought up out of the kindness of your heart? Because you needn't offer to come back out of pity. I've managed to make my life apart from you. It hasn't been easy but ————- "

  "Don't!" She put her hands on his chest, feeling him tremble violently. "Will you listen to me for a moment?"

  He nodded and she turned her face into the side of his jacket and started to speak, the words rushing out incoherently as she told him everything Irene had said. Even after she had finished speaking she remained leaning against him and only when he put his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up did she look into his eyes and see them glittering with tears.