by Anne Mather
Her thoughts were thankfully interrupted as Nikos returned to the room together with an elderly woman whom Dallas judged to be in her early sixties. She was tall and stately, dressed in a Crimplene suit of violet, a triple string of pearls, which Dallas supposed were real, about her throat. Her hair was wound on top of her head in a coronet of plaits and she had very piercing grey eyes. They were not so dark as her son’s and in their depths Dallas could read no animosity. She breathed a little more easily while Nikos performed the introductions.
‘Nikos tells me you have been travelling since early this morning,’ she said in faultless English, after Nikos had finished his introductions. ‘No doubt you are hot and tired. I will have you shown straight to your rooms, and we will serve you with a little English tea so that you may rest until dinner time.’
‘Thank you.’ Dallas managed a smile.
‘The circumstances of your visit with us may be unconventional,’ Madame Stavros continued, ‘but you must make yourselves at home here, and try to enjoy your stay. The weather as you can see is perfect, and there is no reason why you should not treat this in the nature of a holiday. I have allotted you your own villa, in the grounds, and as they are self-contained it will not be necessary for you to come to the house for anything should you not desire to do so.’
Dallas felt that this was a little more what she had expected. The iron hand in the velvet glove. They were being politely manoeuvred into a villa in the grounds; a compact self-sufficient building, from which they would not be encouraged to stray. She glanced at Jane, but Jane was merely beginning to feel the strain of the introductions, and felt she would be glad of a chance to lie down and relax, alone with Dallas.
‘The girls are expected to eat with us, Mama,’ remarked Nikos quietly in his mother’s ear. ‘Alex’s instructions, yes?’ His mother compressed her lips momentarily. ‘Of course,’ she said, a little stiffly. ‘There is no reason why they should not do so. I merely thought I should explain that should they desire to remain in their own accommodation, arrangements can be made. . . .’
‘I think we understand you, Madame,’ said Dallas abruptly. ‘Don’t imagine we have any desire to intrude upon your lives here. We would much rather have stayed in England. Unfortunately, your son made that almost impossible. . . .’
‘Yes, so I did,’ remarked a coolly amused voice.
Dallas swung round sharply to find Alexander Stavros leaning lazily against the arched doorway which led into the hall. He was dressed in close-fitting cream pants, and a navy blue knitted nylon sweater, unbuttoned at the neck so that the beginnings of the dark mat of hairs on his chest could be seen. With his dark hair slightly damp and tousled as though he had been swimming, and the dark growth of a beard along his jawline, he looked considerably different from the immaculately dressed businessman that Dallas remembered seeing in London. He was infinitely more attractive this way; more approachable and consequently much more dangerous.
‘Alex!’ His mother swung round too. ‘I didn’t know you were back. ’
‘Obviously not,’ he remarked, straightening, and walking slowly towards them. ‘I thought I made my instructions perfectly clear. You may have your way, and accommodate the girls in a villa in the grounds as I feel that this is what they themselves would want, but, Mama, you will not try to shelve the responsibility for them as though they were not here. Do I make myself understood?’
His indolent manner did not in any way lessen the effect of his words and Madame Stavros looked slightly disturbed. ‘You know
as well as I do, Alex----- ’ she began, only to be silenced by the
expression he wore. Then she lapsed into Greek, completely excluding Dallas and Jane from comprehension of what was transpiring.
Alexander Stavros listened to her thoughtfully for a moment, lighting a cheroot from a gold case which he had withdrawn from the pocket of his trousers. Then he shrugged, and smiled rather sardonically, and turning to Dallas said:
‘You had a good journey? My brother looked after you?’ His eyes turned to Jane as Dallas politely affirmed, and he enquired after her health, his dark eyes straying momentarily over the slender width of her young body. Then he looked at Dallas again, and there was challenge in his eyes as he said: ‘You will both come for dinner at nine o’clock. The servants will be on hand to give you any information you require. But now it is growing late and you must both wish to rest after your journey. Yanni! ’
The peremptory tone of his voice brought a young man in white uniform to his side, and he issued instructions in Greek at which the young man nodded, and affirmed that he would carry out.
The girls wished their hostess au revoir, and accompanied Yanni outside again and across the width of luscious green turf to one of the whitewashed chalets among the trees some distance from the house. Dallas was too engrossed with her own thoughts to pay much attention to her surroundings, and the undercurrents of emotion at the house had disturbed her not a little. But once there she recovered and took a delight in exploring the small dwelling which was to be their home for the next few months.
Yanni showed them around. There was a small lounge which could also be used as a dining-room, two bedrooms, each luxuriously furnished with double beds, and a bathroom with a step-in bath and shower, done out in the palest of pastel greens. It really was a miniature house, and Jane was enchanted and forgot for a moment the animosity they had experienced.
‘It’s marvellous!’ she exclaimed. ‘Tell me, Yanni, do you speak English?’
Yanni smiled, his dark-skinned face beaming. ‘A little,’ he said. ‘If you speak slow, yes?’
Jane smiled also. ‘Then tell us about arrangements here. Dinner is at nine, so Mr. Stavros said. What time is breakfast?’
‘Any time you like,’ said Yanni carefully. ‘There is no time set, you understand. Lunch is at two.’
Dallas removed the jacket of her suit. She was feeling uncomfortably warm and was looking forward to a cooling shower in that delightful bathroom.
‘Perhaps Mr. Stavros will give us more details tonight,’ she said, trying not to sound concerned when she said Alexander Stavros’s name.
Jane looked at her. ‘He looked different,’ she said thoughtfully. Then she remembered Yanni. ‘All right, Yanni, you can go. What do we do to get in touch with you again?’
‘The bell,’ murmured Yanni politely, indicating a button on the wall beside the french windows. ‘Adio, Miss Collins, Miss Jane.’ He withdrew, and Jane walked through to one of the bedrooms and flung herself lazily on the bed. Dallas followed her rather more slowly. Jane looked up as she entered.
‘What did you think?’ she asked bluntly.
Dallas shrugged. ‘It’s like I expected. They don’t really want us here. And why should they?’
‘I do happen to be having Paris’s baby,’ said Jane resentfully. ‘I’m sorry, but he was as much to blame as anyone.’
‘I know, darling.’ Dallas lifted her shoulders in a helpless movement. ‘But we can’t expect them to fall over themselves to look after us. I half wish Mr. Stavros hadn’t come in like that. I had no desire to eat in company with the rest of the family and their guests. Heavens, I’d rather they forgot we were here.’
Jane made a moue. ‘Well, I don’t,’ she said swiftly. ‘After all, we’ll never have a chance like this to see how the other half lives ever again, will we?’
Dallas unfastened her hair from the french pleat and ran her fingers through its thick silkiness. ‘Well, anyway, we’re not going to have a choice. I just wish I knew what I was going to wear.’ ‘Why? You brought several suitable dresses,’ exclaimed Jane. ‘After all, we can’t be expected to look like they do. We’re only the poor semi-relations.’
Dallas smiled. ‘All right. But now I’m going to have a shower. I feel absolutely sticky.’
Jane nodded. ‘I’ll have a rest, then. It’s early yet. I’m quite looking forward to this evening, though. And to return to my point, didn’t you think Alexander S
tavros looked different?’
Dallas walked to the door, ignoring the way the blood pounded through her veins at the mention of his name. ‘He ... well, he’s grown a beard,’ she said lightly.
‘Not only that. He seemed much younger, somehow. Gosh, he must be as old, if not older than Charles, and yet ... ’
‘Please.’ Dallas glanced round. ‘Let’s not discuss Charles, shall we? I’m going for my shower.’
‘All right.’ Jane frowned, and then, shrugging, rolled over and closed her eyes. Dallas looked at her for a moment, and then withdrew. She was about to get under the shower when she heard someone knock and enter the chalet. ‘Who is it?’ she called
curiously.
‘Me,’ returned a young voice, and opening the door cautiously, Dallas peered round.
A boy of about eighteen was standing with a tray on which was a teapot, and all the necessary china for afternoon tea. He grinned, and she knew at once that he must be another of Alexander Stavros’s brothers.
‘I’m Andrea,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Shall I leave these here, or would you rather I took them away and came back later with some
more?’
‘Oh no! ’ Dallas hesitated. ‘That is ... just leave, them, I’ll see to it all after you’ve gone.’
‘I’m sorry I intruded,’ he replied coolly, not disturbed by her obvious embarrassment. ‘I did not realise you were bathing. My brother will be most annoyed.’ But he didn’t seem at all worried, and Dallas had to smile too. Andrea was like Nikos, and Nikos she could understand without any difficulty.
‘Thank you, anyway,’ she said, as Jane’s bedroom door opened.
‘I heard voices ... ’ began Jane, and then stopped as though turned to stone. Her cheeks went very white, and Dallas thought she was going to faint. ‘Who ... who are you?’ she asked faintly, of Andrea.
Andrea’s eyes were gently appraising. ‘I am Andrea Stavros. You must be Jane, am I right?’
‘Andrea. Oh, I see... ’ Jane supported herself against the doorpost, and Dallas wished she had not undressed so prematurely.
‘And now, I must go,’ said Andrea. ‘I have delayed your sister’s bath long enough. I will see you both at dinner this evening. Adio.’
After he had gone, Dallas wrapped a towel sarong-wise around her slim body and emerged from the bathroom.
Jane had sank down on to a low chair, and Dallas said quietly: ‘I gather he was like Paris.’
‘Like him!’ Jane shook her head in bewilderment. ‘It was Paris’s double.’
‘I guessed as much,’ said Dallas, walking across to the table where Andrea had placed the tray. ‘Here, have some tea. It will make you feel better. ’
Jane sighed. ‘However will I be able to get used to living with someone who looks so much like Paris?’ she asked wearily.
Dallas shrugged. ‘Think how hard it must have been for Stavros himself. After all, the resemblance must have struck him just as strongly.’
Jane looked at her sister. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I guess I was just feeling sorry for myself. ’
Dallas sipped her tea thoughtfully. With every incident that occurred she became more and more convinced that they should never have come.
Dallas dressed for dinner at the house that evening with not a little trepidation. From her own calculations she surmised that there would be at least twelve people at the dinner-table, not counting Stephanos, and Myron, too, should he be on the island. This was a formidable number to someone who was completely unused to mixing freely.
Dallas had grown used to Charles, and Mrs. Jennings, and they seldom had company.
Eventually she put on a french navy dress, made of broderie anglaise, which had a scooped-out neckline, short sleeves, and a fully flared skirt which seemed absurdly short. Jane had insisted that her clothes be brought a little more up to date if they were to mix with high society and Dallas, in her indifferent mood, had reluctantly agreed. But now she was not so sure.
When she emerged from her bedroom it was to find Jane standing by the open french doors, waiting for her. She looked slim and ethereal in white chiffon, both girls having spent money on this kind of attire, which while being attractive, had made rather a hole in their savings. However, as one dress would have to last for many nights, Dallas thought perhaps that the expense had been justified. Both dresses would stand frequent wearing.
Jane looked critically at her sister. ‘You look nice,’ she conceded at last, ‘but I do wish you wouldn’t continually wear your hair up. You look so much more attractive with it down.’
Dallas shrugged and lifted the beaded evening bag she had placed on a chair. ‘I’m not particularly conscious of wanting to look attractive,’ she said tolerantly. ‘I admit I don’t want to look a mess when there are to be so many critical eyes upon us, but conversely, I see no reason to make any attempt to consider myself attractive. These people are not our people, Jane. I would have thought you would be more conscious of this than I am. ’
‘Why?’ Jane faced her sister curiously. ‘Because of the baby?’
‘Of course. Look, Jane, don’t start an argument. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.’
Jane grimaced. ‘Dallas darling, you can’t close your eyes and ears while you’re here, you know. People are people, no matter how rich or powerful they may seem. They have the same desires and hates, and their bodies require the same satisfactions.’
‘Am I to understand that you still find this kind of life desirable?’
‘Oh, Dallas!’ Jane gave an exclamation. ‘Stop trying to act like an ostrich and bury your head in the sand! You know perfectly well that “this kind of life” as you call it is infinitely desirable. However, I no longer have any illusions about it, if that’s what you mean. I wouldn’t be fool enough to behave stupidly a second time. But that doesn’t stop me from appreciating the side-benefits.’
Dallas walked to the door. ‘I think we ought to be going,’ she said. ‘It’s already ten minutes to nine. We don’t want to be late.’
Jane smiled. ‘No, that would never do,’ she agreed, rather mockingly.
As they crossed the grass towards the floodlit forecourt of the villa, she gripped Dallas’s arm for a moment, and said:
‘I rather think, darling, that you’re the one who’s going to find life rather complicated here.’
Dallas stared at her uncomprehendingly, and Jane’s eyes widened.
‘Don’t you agree? I mean, Alexander Stavros does seem to ... how shall I put i t . . . amuse himself by talking to you and watching the sparks fly. Don’t ask me how I know. I can just sense it the atmosphere between you two is electric!’
‘I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous!’ exclaimed Dallas angrily, sure now that Jane was merely taunting her for her own amusement. At times Jane could be very cruel. She was glad when they emerged into the lights, and their intimate conversation ceased.
Nikos came to greet them as they entered the hall and were announced by the white-coated manservant. Resplendent in a white dinner jacket, he smiled benevolently at the two girls, and after complimenting them both on their appearance, he led them into the room, and introduced them to the other guests and members of the family who were standing about in the lounge having drinks before dinner.
The only member of the Stavros family present whom, they had not as yet met was Paula Stavros. She was a little older than Nikos, but not yet married, although a magnificent emerald glittered on the third finger of her left hand. She greeted the girls warmly, and Dallas took an immediate liking to her. Tall and slim, her fairness was in vivid contrast to the other members of the family, and Dallas wondered how two such opposites in colouring and looks could be brother and sister.
They were introduced to Paul and Vyria Sharef, and it was during this introduction that Dallas became aware of Alexander Stavros watching her through half-closed lids, while a deliciously voluptuous brunette, Dahlia Sharef, obviously was trying to gain his undivided attention. Tonight, in a dark
dinner jacket, with a scarlet cummerbund about his narrow waist, he looked faintly oriental, the line of his beard alienating his appearance entirely. Dallas looked sharply away, but in a moment was forced to acknowledge him again when she was introduced to Dahlia.
Dahlia, in a clinging sheath of black satin, barely glanced at Dallas before continuing to speak caressingly to Alexander Stavros, in their own language.
Dallas became aware that she was alone with Nikos, and looked round for Jane, only to find her with Andrea Stavros, his dark head bent close to her, listening attentively to what she was saying. Dallas, a little disturbed, sighed, and looked up at Nikos thoughtfully.
‘You would like another drink?’ he asked, indicating the half-empty glass of ouzo in her hand.
Dallas shook her head. At his persistence she had accepted the locally popular aperitif, but it was rather more potent than she had thought and she did not want to feel heady, so she refused politely.
Madame Stavros was with Vyria Sharef now, and as their eyes turned in Jane’s direction, Dallas wondered what their conversation might be. It was natural that they should find the two girls food for discussion, but Dallas hoped they did not condemn Jane for something that was only half her fault.
A waiter informed them that dinner was served, and they all crossed the wide hall to another long room, set with a polished refectory table that glittered with silver and china, candelabra providing the only illumination. Several centrepieces of flower-arrangement perfumed the already warm night air, and Dallas thought it was rather fantastic to remember who she was and where she was after the comparative uniformity of their lives. This was like one of those advertisements for high living which she had seen on the television back home, and quite honestly, despite her jumpy nerves and churning stomach, it all seemed quite unreal.