by Anne Hampson
‘It was Jenny—’ Serra stopped, afraid of what she had let slip.
‘Jenny?’ frowningly.
A pause and then a reluctant,
‘Jenny wrote advising me to stay here a little while longer. I thought it was because she had decided you were happier without me,’ she added, even though she now guessed at the reason for her sister-in-law’s advice. Dirk had required a little more time to get round to admitting the truth—that he could not live without his wife.
‘So Jenny had a hand in it after all,’ he mused, a tiny glint in his eye. ‘And I thought I was doing it all myself.’
‘You’re not vexed?’ she faltered, twisting her head to look into his face.
‘No, my darling, I’m not vexed. Jenny knew better than I, apparently,’ and the glint was replaced by an expression of infinite tenderness. ‘Everyone’s happy. You—because I see the love in your eyes, me, because I have my lovely wife, and Jenny because her brother s all nicely reformed.’
Serra leant her head against her husband s shoulder and his cheek pressed lovingly on her brow. A hush fell on the sacred sanctuary. The sun was dropping rapidly and soon these, the world’s loveliest buildings, would be ‘violet-crowned’. But for this fleeting twilight interlude the vivid colours of crimson and flame prevailed. Clouds blazed above the hallowed site, and far away Mount Lykabettus melted into their fiery depths. With the passing moments the earth continued to turn, beckoning the sun to another hemisphere, and gradually the purple shadows closed in on the couple sitting, quite alone, on the steps of the temple.
‘My darling—’ The words were whispered, for the hush was holy and profound. ‘Are you getting cold?’ Dirk drew her closer as he spoke, and tilting her chin he touched her lips with his.
‘No, I’m not getting cold, but I suppose we should be going.’ A deep and contented sigh fell on the silent air. ‘I’m so happy I could cry.’
‘My love, I hope you won’t do any such thing.’
She laughed instead and a gentle hand urged her to her feet. Dirk held her in his arms, looking down at her with tender emotion, and faintly shaking his head, as if unable to believe he had been so long accepting the fact that his wife held more attraction for him than all the other girls put together.
‘My love—’ He bent to kiss her and she responded, with shy hesitancy at first, until his ardour awakened the new emotion and she surrendered her lips, so that he was aware of her love, and her desire. ‘We’ll have a honeymoon, beginning tonight!’ His voice was hoarse yet filled with a wealth of tenderness too and happiness and gratitude surged through Serra’s whole body. ‘Shall we spend the entire time here, or would you like to go to Beirut again?’
Her eyes sparkled.
‘I’d very much like to go again,’ she answered eagerly.
His eyes suddenly kindled with amusement as recollection swept in. She read his thoughts and a tinkling laugh fell like sweet music on the silent sanctuary.
‘I’ll have you to take care of me this time,’ she reminded him with a hint of mischief.
‘This time ... and for always,’ and he tucked her arm in his and they moved in the purple dusky silence towards the Propylaea. Overhead the stars were beginning to light the vast vault of the sky, and behind them the great temple and its pagan gods were wrapped in slumber.