Beneath the Cypress Tree

by Margaret Pemberton

  Knowing that she’d had no previous full-on love affairs, Kate’s capacity for sexual enjoyment had both surprised and delighted him. Just thinking about her uninhibited responsiveness to him in bed sent a wild rush of blood to his groin. When it came to sex, Kate made him happier than any other woman he’d ever known. For the first time in his life he was in a relationship that seriously mattered to him; and tramping remote areas of Crete with Christos, sleeping at night in whatever modest accommodation could be found and which was, as often as not, a hay loft or bare boards was no compensation for being in his brass-headed feather bed with a gloriously naked Kate.

  ‘There!’ Christos pointed to a small whitewashed stone house standing a little higher than the other houses of the village. ‘That is the ex-governor’s house.’

  The only way it stood out from other village houses was that its walls weren’t sagging and its roof wasn’t badly in need of repair.

  Looking at it, Lewis hoped their trek up the valley was going to prove worthwhile. Many local chieftains he’d met were engaged in feuds with other local chieftains, sometimes in feuds that had gone on for generations, and the idea that if they wanted to be an effective fighting force they needed to work together and maintain close lines of communication with each other was alien to them.

  As they entered a steep-stepped street, a pack of dogs hurtled towards them, barking aggressively. To protect his lower limbs from this kind of greeting he had taken to wearing thick Cretan vraka breeches tucked into high leather boots. So far it was protection that had served him well. He braced himself for the canine onslaught, fiercely hoping that his luck was going to continue.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  20 MAY 1941

  Sholto was on his way from the British Vice-Consulate to a meeting with Brigadier Chappel of the 14th Infantry Brigade. A month ago Germany had launched a blitzkrieg attack on Greece, forcing the British, Australian, New Zealand and Greek forces who had been fighting the Italians into a retreat. Exhausted and battle-weary, they had been evacuated to Crete, adding to the large number of British troops already there.

  Not long afterwards daylight air attacks on Suda Bay had begun, and now Heraklion was also on the receiving end of bombing raids. Yesterday evening the planned evacuation to Cairo of unnecessary personnel had taken place. The Squire had fought hard against being included under the heading of ‘unnecessary personnel’, but it was a battle with officialdom that he had lost. Together with his mother and a clutch of British women and children that had included Kate, Daphne, Caspian and Caspian’s nanny, he had left from Heraklion harbour aboard a Royal Navy destroyer. That Daphne’s friend Ella and her baby son hadn’t left with them had been a huge disappointment to him, but both he and Lewis had failed to change her mind about staying behind.

  ‘Of course I’m not leaving,’ she had said defiantly, her eyes flashing fire. ‘I’m married to a Cretan. Crete is my home – and Crete is where I’m staying.’

  As he and Lewis had driven away from Archanes, Lewis had said, ‘Her decision doesn’t come as the slightest surprise, Sholto. It’s a miracle to me that Kate agreed to leave. There was a hell of a row, before she saw reason.’

  The natural affinity between the two men, coupled with the fact of Daphne and Kate’s close friendship, had meant they had been on Christian-name terms with each other ever since the end of their first meeting.

  As Sholto swerved at high speed out of the village and on to the road leading back to Heraklion, he’d said drily, ‘I expected a similar tussle with Daphne, but because she had Caspian’s safety to think of, and because I told her in no uncertain terms the kind of hell that would be unleashed when the invasion started, she saw sense for once, thank God.’

  Now, no longer having to worry about his wife’s safety, or his son’s, Sholto’s entire attention was focused on what Military Intelligence had told them was to be an almost immediate invasion by air.

  Brigade Headquarters was a cave strategically placed between Heraklion and its aerodrome, and he entered it to find its gloomy interior thick with uniformed officers, all clustering around a table covered with a large-scale map of the city and the area around it.

  ‘Glad you’ve made the meeting,’ Chappel said to him. ‘We need the consulate to be fully in the picture, with regard to troop strength and displacements.’

  Room was made for Sholto at the table.

  ‘Infantry is made up of five battalions, two of them Australian, plus two Greek regiments, the city garrison and a Royal Army Medical Corps field ambulance unit.’ He gave a nod of recognition to a captain wearing the RAMC’s distinctive blue beret. ‘The Australians, 2nd Battalion Black Watch and 2nd Battalion Yorks and Lancs have been assigned the task of defending the aerodrome.’ He tapped the map with a long cane. ‘Of the two hills dominating the aerodrome area, the 2nd Battalion Leicesters are positioned on the hill immediately above the aerodrome, the 2nd Battalion Black Watch on the hill to the east of it.’

  Sholto frowned. ‘And Heraklion itself?’

  ‘The Greek regiments and the Greek garrison will defend the city. Our main priority is the aerodrome. The entire defence of the region depends on our maintaining control of it.’

  As he was speaking, Lewis and Christos entered the cave. Lewis was wearing his uniform of a captain in Military Intelligence and there was a pistol on his hip. It was Christos, though, who attracted Brigadier Chappel’s – and everyone else’s – attention.

  His sweeping moustachios with their curly upturned ends were worthy of a demon king. Wide black vraka breeches were tucked into knee-high leather boots. A shabby black waistcoat was worn over an even shabbier black shirt; his thick mop of curly hair was constrained by a black tasselled headcloth; a deadly-looking Cretan knife was tucked through the folds of his waist sash; and a rifle was slung over his shoulder and ammunition bandoliers criss-crossed his chest.

  ‘Captain Sinclair, SOE,’ Lewis said briefly to Chappel. ‘How can I and the guerrilla groups I’ve organized best be of help?’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ With difficulty Chappel dragged his eyes away from Christos. ‘I was told to expect you. I was just putting Vice-Consul Hertford into the picture as to present troop displacements, which are that British and Australian battalions will defend the aerodrome and the hills overlooking it, and Greek troops will defend the city.’

  Across the table Sholto’s eyes met Lewis’s. Both knew what the other was thinking. It wouldn’t only be Greek troops defending the city. Heraklion’s citizens knew the ground in a way troops from the mainland didn’t. Coupled with the inbuilt Cretan instinct for banditry, and with every adult male possessing a hunting rifle, the entire city would be armed and fighting in its defence.

  ‘The two Greek regiments are stationed on both sides of the town’s city walls,’ Brigadier Chappel continued, indicating on the map the wall’s four huge bastions and three main entrance gates. ‘It’s with the Greek regiments, Captain Sinclair, that I think your groups can best be useful.’

  He put his cane down, turning away from the table so that he was facing everyone. ‘Our major difficulty is going to be lack of reliable communication with General Freyberg’s HQ at Canea. Field telephones are proving erratic, due to wires being run too loosely, and so far today there has been no wireless communication as to what may or may not be happening in the Maleme airfield and Suda Bay region. One last thing: the Villa Ariadne, a large house situated inland three and a half miles away, has been commandeered as a field hospital.’ He looked towards the RAMC officer. ‘Captain Jowett, before you leave I’d like a word with you concerning the arrangements made there.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Sam flushed slightly at being so conspicuously singled out.

  ‘Then that is all, gentlemen. Morale is high. Troop dispositions are in place. Twelve anti-aircraft guns are dug into pits around the airfield. Twelve field guns are ranged on it. Two tanks are in place at either end of it, and six light tanks are ready to move to wherever they might be needed. Our
Prime Minister has promised the Greek government that Britain will look after Crete. It is a promise that will be kept.’

  As the majority of the officers in the cave began making their way to its entrance, a motorcycle messenger hurried into it, making a beeline for Sholto, who was in deep conversation with Lewis.

  ‘Excuse me, Lord Hertford. An urgent message, sir.’

  The envelope he handed Sholto bore the distinctive crest of the consulate. Sholto ripped it open. A split second later, his face ashen, he thrust the message towards Lewis.

  It was brief and to the point:

  Lady Hertford and Miss Katherine Shelton not aboard when destroyer docked Alexandria.

  ‘Christ Almighty!’ Lewis felt as if he’d been hit by a sledgehammer. ‘Then they’re not in Cairo. So where the hell are they?’

  It was a question born of deep shock. Even as he said it, he knew where they were. They were still on Crete.

  Sholto said hoarsely, ‘There’s no mention of Caspian. Where the hell is my son?’ And then, as it was a question Lewis couldn’t possibly answer, he sprinted for his vehicle.

  Lewis swung round on Christos. ‘Are Kate and Daphne at Archanes with Ella?’

  Christos vehemently shook his head.

  Lewis ran towards his truck, Christos hard behind him. Daphne and Kate hadn’t spent the night in Archanes and, as he had spent last night at Kalamata, he knew they hadn’t spent the night there, either. So where were they?

  As he jumped into the truck and Christos scrambled into the passenger seat, he was angrier than he had ever been before in his life. That Daphne was capable of deceiving Sholto into believing she had left aboard the destroyer didn’t surprise him. He’d long ago realized Daphne was capable of anything. But that Kate could have been capable of such deception absolutely took his breath away. Daphne may have thought there would be other chances of evacuation, but Kate knew differently. Kate knew that anyone now on Crete would be on it until the battle was fought and won. Or until the island, bathed in blood, was lost.

  He gunned the engine, swinging out on to the road leading into Heraklion. Presumably Kate would be facing him sometime during the day, to let him know she hadn’t boarded the destroyer, but he was damned if he was going to wait for her to do so.

  As Kate and Daphne hadn’t spent the night at Archanes, the next most obvious place for them to have spent it was with Kostas and Eleni and, once in Heraklion, Lewis was going to drive straight out of it in the direction of Knossos. It was only when he was in Heraklion, heading for the Canea Gate that opened on to the Knossos road, that he realized shock and anger had addled his brain.

  Kate may have spent the night at the Kourakis home at Knossos, but it was now late morning and she would be doing what she’d spent the last two days doing. She would be helping the Archaeological Museum staff transfer all its precious artefacts – including those found at Kalamata and the cave – into the cellars for safety.

  Narrowly avoiding an open-sided lorry crammed with soldiers of the Black Watch, an army car flying a pennant – its passenger presumably Brigadier Chappel – and a donkey pulling a cart piled high with cabbages, he veered into Xanthoudidou Street and swerved to a halt outside the museum.

  ‘Stay with the truck,’ he said to Christos as he jumped from it, ‘otherwise it will be commandeered.’

  Grim-faced, Lewis sprinted into the museum. Frenzied work was taking place, with cabinets being unlocked, emptied and their contents transferred into large straw-filled crates. As well known at the museum as if he was a member of staff, he wasn’t given a second glance. He couldn’t see Kate and headed for the steps leading to the building’s cellars.

  They were nearly as thronged with staff and volunteers as the upstairs rooms had been. He eased his way between people, looking for Kate’s distinctive bob of sleek black hair. She was nowhere to be seen. He was just about to head off back to the truck when the member of staff who usually patrolled the Proto-palatial room paused in what he was doing, saying, ‘If you’re looking for Miss Shelton, she’s in the far end cellar.’

  Lewis nodded his thanks and, side-stepping several half-filled crates, made his way down a stone-floored passageway.

  She was on her knees, packing boxes of sherds into a large steel container. To his great relief, he saw she was working without help. It meant there wouldn’t be an audience to the ugly scene they were about to have.

  He strode in on her, saying in white-hot fury, ‘Why the hell are you still here, Kate?’ Only with difficulty did he prevent himself from hauling her to her feet and shaking her until her teeth rattled. ‘Sailors aboard that destroyer risked their lives in order to take you, Daphne, other British women and children and unnecessary personnel to safety – and you throw the risks they’ve taken in their faces! For absolutely no good reason you deceive everyone into thinking that you’ve boarded and . . .’

  ‘We did board.’

  ‘You didn’t bloody well sail!’

  He’d always had a temper, but was usually in control of it. This time he was filled with so much exasperation, and so much anxiety for her safety, that he felt like banging his head against the wall.

  ‘I want an explanation,’ he demanded savagely. ‘And it had better be good!’

  She rose to her feet, brushing packing straw from her skirt with an unsteady hand. ‘Although you don’t seem to think I can be of use, you’re wrong, Lewis. I can. How many English Greek speakers are there on Crete? Barely any. Because I speak Greek, I can act as an army interpreter. When I’ve finished what I’m doing, I’m going to Brigade Headquarters.’

  It was a response that failed to lower Lewis’s anger level. ‘And so, when we had our traumatic goodbye scene, you knew it was all a farce? When you boarded, you knew you were going to disembark almost immediately? It wasn’t something Daphne talked you into at the last moment?’

  ‘When we said goodbye, it wasn’t a farce. I knew that once fighting on the island began, I might never see you again; that you might be killed.’ Her voice wobbled. ‘And it wasn’t something Daphne talked me into. Our decisions to stay behind were arrived at separately.’

  ‘And what was Daphne’s reason?’ he asked with sarcasm. ‘Unlike you, she hasn’t lived on Crete for years and doesn’t have fluent Greek. What good is Oxford classical Greek going to be to the army?’

  ‘She hasn’t stayed behind because of her knowledge of classical Greek. She’s stayed behind because she’s a member of the St John Ambulance Brigade and she became a member so that, when the time came, she could do useful war work. And the time for her to be useful is here and now.’

  Lewis breathed in hard. ‘And where is she? And where is Caspian?’

  ‘Daphne is at the Villa Ariadne. Caspian is in Cairo. He sailed in the care of his nanny and Mrs Hutchinson, and Mrs Hutchinson will by now have handed him into the care of Lady Vanessa Dane. Lady Vanessa is a very good friend of Daphne’s.’

  Their eyes held; his so dark with anger and exasperation they were nearly black; hers unrepentant at the decision she had made, but full of growing panic at his reaction to it.

  He said curtly, ‘As Daphne didn’t have the decency to make sure Sholto knew Caspian had sailed, I’m going to find him and put his mind at rest.’

  He swung on his heel and she said urgently, appalled that he was leaving when he was still so angry with her, ‘We didn’t realize news would have got back to you so quickly about our not being aboard! I would have told you before today was over, and Daphne would have told Sholto.’

  Without turning round, not trusting himself to do so in case, at the sight of her anguished face, he abandoned anger and took her in his arms, he said curtly, ‘It wouldn’t have altered the deceit, Kate. Or the reason for it.’

  He strode out of the cellar, every line of his body taut with tension, and she fought the almost overwhelming desire to run after him and tell him she was sorry and that she wished she’d stayed aboard the destroyer.

  She didn’t, though
, because it would have been a lie said in the hope of making things right between them and, much as she wanted to do that, she wasn’t going to lie to do it. Staying behind to give what assistance she could to the army, however small that assistance might prove to be, had been the right thing to do. But her heart had never felt so heavy and she knew that if her action ended her relationship with Lewis, the heaviness would be so great her heart would break.

  ‘I’ve been to Archanes!’ Sholto said as Lewis strode into his office. ‘They aren’t with Ella. I’ve phoned every hotel in the damned city and they aren’t in any of them.’ From behind his desk he slammed a telephone receiver down on its rest.

  ‘Kate is at the museum. Daphne is at the Villa Ariadne, and Caspian is in Cairo.’

  ‘On his own?’

  All Sholto’s aristocratic sophistication abandoned him. He jackknifed to his feet, looking as if he was about to have a heart attack.

  ‘Daphne gave him into Mrs Hutchinson’s care and she will, by now, have handed him into the care of one of Daphne’s friends, Vanessa Dane.’

  As he spoke, mayhem broke out in nearby rooms and the door banged open with such force it nearly came off its hinges.

  ‘The Jerries dropped paras in their thousands on Maleme airfield this morning,’ a fresh-faced young man shouted. ‘Christ knows why it’s taken so long for us to get the message, but the invasion has started!’

  The door slammed after him. Sholto said, ‘I’m going to the Villa Ariadne.’ He yanked a drawer open, snatching up a revolver. ‘With luck I’ll be back before the balloon goes up.’

  Together they raced from the building, Lewis sprinting in the direction of the truck, Sholto in the direction of his car.