Smokescreen Marriage

by Sara Craven

  ‘No, no.’ Ismene looked shocked. ‘Because there will be meetings soon with some of the other directors of our companies. Last time Victorine was so bored.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘She likes the money, you understand, but she is not interested in how it is made. Maybe this is why Papa encouraged her to go,’ she went on. ‘Or perhaps he is still not quite sure…’ She stopped, guiltily, her eyes flying to Kate’s suddenly frozen face. ‘But no—that is silly.’

  ‘Yes,’ Kate agreed quietly. ‘Very silly.’

  ‘And, of course, you will be Papa’s hostess—to prove to everyone that he and Mick are friends again.’ Ismene went on eagerly. ‘There has been much anxiety, you understand, and people have taken sides, which is not good. But everything will be better now.’

  ‘I hope so.’ Kate forced a smile. ‘Perhaps Victorine won’t come back.’

  ‘But she will.’ Ismene pulled a face. ‘Unless she finds a richer man than Papa.’

  Whatever the reasons for it, Kate couldn’t be sorry about Victorine’s absence, especially when days lengthened into weeks with no sign of her return.

  Not that she had time to brood about anything. Her new responsibilities had not been exaggerated, she discovered from the moment Yannis and Androula took her on the promised tour of the house.

  The Villa Dionysius was much larger than even her first impression had suggested—a positive labyrinth of passages, courtyards and rooms, and Kate saw all of it, down to the cellars, the food stores and the linen cupboards.

  ‘Each generation has added to the house,’ Yannis told her proudly. ‘And you and Kyrios Michalis will do the same—when the children come.’

  Kate bit back a smile. It was ridiculous, she thought, the way everyone was trying to prompt them into parenthood. And what a pity she couldn’t share the joke with Mick.

  She couldn’t help being nervous as the first of the promised guests began to arrive, but was able to draw on her training as a courier to give each of them a composed and smiling welcome, and make sure their comfort was catered for in every way.

  It was not an easy time. Not all the meetings went smoothly, and she was aware of tensions and undercurrents as people came and went. Both Mick and his father were grim and thoughtful at times.

  But at last, all the visitors departed, and Kate, their compliments still ringing in her ears, was able to draw breath.

  ‘You have done well, pedhi mou,’ Ari told her. He gave a satisfied smile. ‘In fact, it has all been most successful.’ He darted a glance at Mick. ‘And I am not quite ready for Yeronitsia, ne?’

  ‘Yeronitsia?’ Kate repeated puzzled.

  ‘A high rock near Ayios Thomas,’ Mick supplied unsmilingly. ‘From which, legend says, the old and useless used to be thrown. My father,’ he added, ‘likes to joke.’

  But Kate couldn’t feel it had been a joke. And a few days later, when Linda took her on a tour of the island, she mentioned it, while they were sitting drinking coffee on the waterfront at Fiscardo.

  Linda sighed. ‘You’re right, it’s not funny, but I guess it was inevitable. Ari was so pleased and proud when Mick joined the company, but less so as he began to find his own voice—formulate his own ideas.’

  She shrugged. ‘You can understand it. Ari was proud of what he’d achieved, and was wary of change—especially the kind of expansion Mick was advocating. Also,’ her smile was wry, ‘he was beginning to feel his age, and he resented this. He began to say that Mick was too young—too wild to step into his shoes. That the Theodakis corporation should not go to someone with such a high-profile social life. And for a time there, Mick supplied him with all the ammunition he needed,’ she added ruefully.

  ‘And, Ari likes to play games—to hint at his retirement in private, then deny it in public. But there’ve been signs that the board is getting restive—that support for Michael is growing. I—I hope Ari goes with dignity before he’s forced out. It would have broken Regina’s heart to know how far things had deteriorated between them,’ she added huskily.

  She didn’t speak Victorine’s name, but then she didn’t have to, Kate thought with a sudden chill.

  And one day soon the beautiful Creole would return.

  But, in the meantime, Kate could relax and enjoy herself. Already the Villa Dionysius was beginning to feel like home. The staff were so well-trained that the house almost ran itself, and this gave her the opportunity to explore the rest of the island, sometimes with Linda, but usually and joyfully in Mick’s company, making the most of its many beauties before the influx of tourists arrived.

  She loved hearing him talk about Kefalonia’s sometimes stormy history, and share his knowledge of the archaeological discoveries that had taken place over the years.

  She was thrilled by the various underground caves with their dark and secret lakes that he showed her, but shivered away from the village of Markopoulo after Mick told her that the Church of Our Lady there was visited each August by crowds of small snakes.

  ‘They crawl up to her icon,’ Mick said, amused at her horrified expression. ‘We look on them as good luck, especially as they stayed away during the last war, and in the earthquake year.’

  ‘I prefer miracles that don’t wriggle,’ Kate said with dignity. ‘I think I shall arrange to be somewhere else in August.’

  Remembering those lightly spoken words now, Kate bit her lip until she tasted blood. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so flippant about the island’s luck. Because hers had begun to run out not long afterwards.

  Ismene’s feud with her father over her wish to marry Petros had shown no signs of abating. Although she had been forbidden to see him, she continued to meet him in secret and, on several occasions, Kate had been her unwilling accomplice, driving her into Argostoli, the island’s capital, on vague shopping expeditions.

  Ismene had insisted on introducing them, and Kate had to admit that, apart from his lack of worldly goods, she couldn’t fault him. He was more serious in his manner than Ismene, but blessed with a quiet sense of humour. He was also good looking, and intelligent.

  ‘Papa says he is not good for me,’ Ismene said soberly as they drove home. ‘But, in truth, Katharina, he is much too good, and I know it. All the same, I will be a good and loving wife to him.’

  Kate found herself unexpectedly touched to the heart by this little speech. But when she mentioned it to Mick, he was angry.

  ‘I told you not to get involved,’ he reminded her coldly. ‘Now you are joining her in her deceit.’

  They almost had a row about it, and matters did not improve when Ismene mounted another tearful and highly vocal campaign to get her father to approve her engagement.

  Kate had not been altogether sorry when Mick had insisted on the move down to the peace of the beach house. It had already become one of her favourite places, and she had taken to swimming in the pool there every day anyway, now that the real summer heat had begun, but the sea was still cold.

  It was much smaller than the villa, with just two bedrooms, a large living room, as well as a kitchen and bathroom, but it was furnished with exquisite comfort, and it had the great advantage of seclusion. And the big platform at the front that Linda had mentioned was perfect for sunbathing.

  ‘A second honeymoon,’ Kate said dreamily on their first evening alone there.

  Mick raised his eyebrows. ‘And less chance for you to become embroiled in Ismene’s mischief, matia mou,’ he told her, pulling her into his arms.

  She was disappointed when she discovered that he was about to depart on visits to the Regina hotels on Corfu, Crete and Rhodes, and that she would not be going with him.

  ‘It’s pure routine. You’d be bored.’ He’d kissed her swiftly as he left for the airport. ‘Try not to let Ismene and Papa kill each other, and I’ll be back before you know it.’

  But she felt restless, edgy without him. The days were long, but the nights were longer, and his daily phone calls were only part consolation.

  She had to put up with sul
ks from Ismene too, when the younger girl discovered that Kate was not going to drive her to any more secret rendezvous.

  She began to spend more time at the beach house. Quite often she was joined there by Linda, and Ismene too when she regained her good humour, and Kate enjoyed preparing poolside lunches for them.

  Regina Theodakis had clearly been keen on reading as well as painting, and a large, crammed bookcase was one of the features of the living room. Kate found herself making new discoveries every day, as well as renewing her acquaintance with some old favourites.

  Mick had been gone almost two weeks, when Victorine returned. As soon as Kate walked into the villa she was aware of a subtle shift in the atmosphere. She didn’t really need Ismene’s whispered, ‘She’s back,’ to know what had happened.

  ‘And she’s in a really good mood—all smiles,’ Ismene went on disparagingly. ‘You should see the luggage she’s brought back. She must have bought the world. And she’s given me a present.’

  She extracted a silky top with shoestring straps and exquisite beading from a bag emblazoned with the name of a boutique from the exclusive Kolonaki Square in Athens, and held it up. ‘See?’

  Kate’s brows rose. ‘Very nice,’ she commented drily. ‘Perhaps she’s going on a charm offensive.’

  But her optimism was short-lived.

  ‘The sun has given you some colour, chère.’ Victorine was stretched out on a lounger on the terrace, wearing a miniscule string bikini, the expression in her eyes concealed behind designer sunglasses. ‘That shade of hair can make a woman look so washed out,’ she added disparagingly.

  ‘And good morning to you, too,’ Kate said coolly, pouring herself some fruit juice.

  ‘So you are not pregnant yet.’ Victorine began to apply a fresh layer of sun lotion to her arms. ‘Ari is very disappointed. It might be wise not to keep him waiting too long, or he might begin to wonder about this marriage of yours. Especially as Michalis has apparently become—restless again, and left you all alone here.’

  ‘Mick’s on a business trip,’ Kate said, resisting the urge to throw the fruit juice over her antagonist. ‘We don’t have to be joined at the hip every moment of the day.’

  ‘Or the night either.’ Smilingly, Victorine recapped the bottle. ‘You are very understanding to allow him these little diversions, chère. I hope your trust is rewarded. Michalis can be so wicked when he gets bored.’

  ‘Well, you should know,’ Kate said blandly, returning her glass to the tray, and walking off.

  But even the pleasure of having the last word couldn’t sweeten the little exchange for her.

  ‘I’ll keep out of the way,’ she thought, thanking her stars that she had a sanctuary, but, to her dismay, Ari made it clear that he expected her to be present at dinner that evening, and perform her usual duties, so she reluctantly obeyed.

  Victorine was in her element at dinner, her behaviour to Ari seductively possessive, as she regaled them with the latest film-world gossip, hinting at the lucrative contracts that were still being offered her.

  ‘But how could I be away for months at a time, cher, when even a few weeks is too much.’ Lips pouting, she put a caressing hand on Ari’s arm.

  Kate was just wondering what excuse she could make to avoid coffee in the saloni when the door of the dining room opened, and Mick walked in.

  Amid the exclamations of astonishment and welcome, Kate got shakily to her feet.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she whispered, as he reached her.

  ‘I wanted to surprise you, agapi mou.’ His arms went round her, drawing her to him. His mouth was warm on hers. ‘Have I succeeded?’

  ‘Shall I tell Androula to bring you some food, boy?’ Ari barked.

  ‘I had an early dinner in Athens with Iorgos. Now I just want to wash off the city grime, and relax a little.’ He smiled at Kate. ‘Come and run a bath for me, matia mou,’ he invited softly.

  As Kate went with him, blushing, to the door, she was suddenly aware of Victorine watching her, her eyes cold with derision, and something oddly like pity…

  ‘Was it a successful trip?’ Kate lay in the circle of Mick’s arms, as the scented water lapped round them.

  ‘The homecoming is better.’ He wound a long strand of her damp hair round his fingers and kissed it. ‘Maybe, I should go away more often.’

  ‘I disagree.’ She touched his face gently with her hand, then paused. ‘I didn’t know you were going to Athens.’

  ‘Nor did I, but it was unavoidable. A last-minute thing.’ He picked up the sponge and squeezed warm water over her shoulders. ‘So, what has been happening here? Has Ismene been behaving herself?’

  ‘I try not to ask.’ She bit her lip. ‘Victorine came back this morning.’

  ‘Leaving a trail of devastation in every design salon in Europe, no doubt.’

  Had she imagined the fractional hesitation before his dismissive reply.

  ‘She was shopping in Athens too,’ she ventured.

  ‘It’s a big city, agapi mou.’ He kissed the side of her neck. ‘Now, let’s dry ourselves. Our bed is waiting, and you can show me all over again how glad you are to see me.’

  And Kate forgot everything—even that strange, niggling doubt—in the passionate bliss of their reunion.

  But, with hindsight, she could have no doubt that Mick had been with Victorine in Athens. He’d brushed aside her tentative query, but he hadn’t denied it.

  And, however much she’d longed for his return, she couldn’t pretend it was all honey and roses in the days that followed.

  Within twenty-four hours, it was evident that relations between Ari and himself were strained, and Mick seemed to retire into a tight-lipped, preoccupied world of his own.

  More visiting executives came and went, and there was another endless stream of meetings. Kate struggled to fulfil her role as hostess, but found her smile beginning to crack after a while. She felt as if she was living on the edge of a volcano, but, when she tried to question Mick about what was going on, she found herself blocked.

  ‘But I want to help,’ she protested.

  ‘You are helping.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Be content.’

  But that was easier said than done.

  Even when they made love, Kate had the feeling that he’d retreated emotionally behind some barrier, and she had to search for him, reach out to him, in the joining of their bodies.

  But at least in the early afternoons she had him all to herself. They had gone down to the cove to swim at first, but then had found Victorine there, sunbathing in nothing but a thong. Mick ignored her stonily, but, when he found Ismene emulating her, he gave his sister a telling-off in cold, fierce Greek which reduced her to tears.

  After that, they had stayed up at the beach house, and Mick had given strict orders that their privacy there was not to be disturbed by anyone. Even Ismene did not dare to intrude on them.

  One hot and windless day, lying in the shelter of a poolside umbrella, Kate put down her book, and said, ‘When are we going to have a baby?’

  He was glancing frowningly through some papers. ‘Has my father been asking again?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘This time it’s all my own idea. Michael—can we at least talk about it—please?’

  His mouth tightened. ‘This is not a good time for me, pedhi mou.’ His voice was gentle but inflexible.

  She swallowed. ‘Then when can we have a discussion about our marriage—our future?’

  He was silent for a moment. ‘When I get back from America. We’ll talk then.’

  She sat up, staring at him. ‘You’re going to New York? When?’

  ‘Next week. I shall be gone about ten days—perhaps less.’

  She said breathlessly, ‘Take me with you.’

  ‘It’s a business trip, Katharina,’ he said. ‘I shall be in meetings twelve hours a day. We would never see each other.’

  ‘Mick—please. This is important to me.’

  ‘And you are
important here,’ he said drily. ‘I gather the household can’t function without you.’

  ‘That’s nonsense, and you know it.’ Her voice rose. ‘The house runs like clockwork.’

  ‘But you, agapi mou, wind the clock. My father is pleased with you.’

  She said huskily, ‘Is that why you’re abandoning me here—to keep him sweet? He already has someone to fill that role.’

  His tone was curt. ‘Be careful what you say.’

  ‘Michael.’ Her voice appealed. ‘I’m your wife. I want to be with you. Can’t you understand that?’

  ‘But you would not be with me,’ he said. ‘Because I should always be with other people.’ He picked up his papers again. ‘And I will soon be back.’

  She said raggedly, ‘This is why your mother used to stay here, isn’t it? Not because it had wonderful views she could paint, but because the villa was too big and too lonely, and your father was always away on business as well. Maybe she even persuaded herself she didn’t mind. But I do mind, Michael. I mind like hell.’

  ‘Is it really such a penance to stay here?’ He got to his feet angrily. ‘You live in comfort. The servants adore you. Ismene loves you as a sister in blood.’

  ‘And your ex-mistress thinks I’m a bad joke.’

  ‘Ah, Victorine,’ he said softly. ‘Somehow I knew the conversation would come round to her.’

  ‘You can’t pretend it’s a normal situation.’

  ‘But one we have to accept—for now, at least.’ There was finality in his tone.

  ‘Can you accept it?’ She was frightened now, but she pushed herself on. Letting her darkest thoughts out into the harsh sunlight. ‘Is that why we live down here, Michael—because you can’t bear to see her—to think of her with your father? Tell me—tell me the truth.’

  In spite of the intense heat, his glance chilled her. Silenced her. Made her heart flutter in panic.

  ‘You are being absurd, Katharina. Unless you wish to make me angry, do not speak of this again.’ He picked up his watch, and fastened it on to his wrist. ‘I am going to shower, and drive into Argostoli. At the risk of being accused of abandonment,’ he added cuttingly, ‘I am not going to invite you to come with me.’