that much carried away, since you stopped when you wanted to.'
'Damn you!' he rasped, his next words seeming to be dragged from him reluctantly. 'It was a sudden pain over my eyes.'
'Your eyes!' At once forgetting her anger, she was all concern. Remorse shook her, as it did so often. 'Oh, darling.'
'Forget it!' Impatiently he shook off her anxious hand. 'Don't pretend to be concerned again. The pain's gone now, but this time I've reason to be grateful it came. You'd better get along to your own bed. I don't want you any longer in mine.'
Nothing could have been much plainer than that! Huddled over a cup of coffee next morning in the kitchen, Sandra reflected wearily while listening with one ear to Thyra's complaints about the lights. The generator was playing up, it seemed. Dinner, last evening, had been all but spoilt.
Dinner wasn't the only thing better forgotten. Sandra's eyes lustreless for want of sleep, regarded the woman's anxious face with apathy. 'I'll mention it to Mr. Freeman,' she promised.
'If it breaks down completely, madame, there could be much waste. Apart from the lights and cooking there is the deep freeze. Kyrios Stein used to overhaul it himself before his accident, I believe.'
Sandra frowned. Now he wasn't able to see that even the lights were working properly!'Is there no one else on the island with the — er — know-how?'
'I beg your pardon, madame?'
'I mean, isn't there anyone who knows about generators? What about Panos?'
'There's no one, madame,' Thyra shook her head. 'This is only a small island, a few fishermen, a few farms. We make enough for a modest living, but we have no electric light. Kyrios Stein did offer to install it free, but we haven't yet made up our minds.'
'Wouldn't it be useful?' Sandra asked, wanting to talk — anything to keep her mind off the previous night.
'Yes,' Thyra smiled, her pleasant face lighting up, 'we are not a backward people. On the islands, if you sometimes get this impression, it is only because we deliberately cling to the old-fashioned ways. Often we pretend to live more in the past than we actually do as the tourist likes to feel he is in another world. But the average Greek is as shrewd and well informed as anyone else.'
'I never thought otherwise,' Sandra smiled, as indeed she hadn't until meeting Stein's grandmother. It had been she who insisted that the old ways were still very much observed and Stein, strangely enough, who had supported her views. Sandra felt she might have been warned by her own grandmother who, because she had been forty when Sandra's father was born, had seemed quite an old lady to Sandra before she had died. Hadn't Gran spent hours regretting 'the things young people got up to nowadays' and trying to make Sandra live as she had done?
'I'll have a word with my husband,' she promised again, and was rewarded by another grateful smile.
She found him in the room where they usually worked, playing back the work they had done the day before, and he wasn't too tolerant about the generator.
'Every time the wind blows and there's a flicker, Thyra will panic. I'll look at it if I get a minute.'
He was in no mood, she could see, for further discussion on the subject, so she didn't insist he should do something right away. After last night she refused to be anxious that he might try to go out in the dark and put the thing right. That was up to him!
'Are you satisfied with yesterday's effort?' she asked, deliberately infusing into her voice a cool indifference which she sensed would annoy him. Desperately she tried not to take advantage of his blindness by gazing at him, allowing her eyes to eat him up.
'I'm not sure,' for once he didn't seem to notice her tone as his fingers flicked the recorder switch. 'I'm playing it back too soon, but you're late this morning.'
'I'm sorry,' she apologised briefly.
Unprepared for his curtness, she stepped back involuntarily when he spoke. 'Stop acting like a martyr, Sandra. You're not the only one who feels hard done by. In time you'll forget —if you
stay out of my bedroom.'
'I'll never go near it again, so you can stop worrying!' she exclaimed vehemently, conscious of a sudden frustrating desire to hit him. He made her sound like a tramp — and feel like one, too!
As if sensing her violent inclinations, he moved his tall body nearer. 'Would once do,' he jeered, 'or would you like to hit me twice? Such a pity I'm a blind man. It would be on your soft little conscience all day, wouldn't it?'
Not surprisingly Sandra lost control, swinging her hand with force. But with the swift intuition that made her so often wonder if he could see a little, his own hand lifted to catch hers.
'If you slap me I'll only slap back,' he grunted. 'Aren't you bruised enough this morning? I seem to recall...' Wrenching her arm free, she put the width of the room between them as she cut in, 'How dare you refer to that!' 'It might serve as a warning. In retrospect you might be inclined to regard our little fiasco in a rosier light.' His face hardened. 'Next time you might not get off so lightly.' Taking a grip of herself, Sandra managed to ignore this, picking up her pad in dignified silence. She knew when she was beaten and there could be little sense in antagonising him completely. Rustling some papers as she searched for a pen seemed to give him some indication that she intended to work.
She watched as he shrugged and walked back to his chair. 'I suppose we may as well make a start.'
'I'm ready when you are,' she agreed coldly, and hated him because of his cynical smile.
They did so much that day that long before evening she felt mentally exhausted. She felt even worse when Stein informed her that he was far from pleased with any of it. He went so far as to say he considered all the hours they had spent a waste of time and put the tape she had just recorded in the fire.
Tears of frustration in her eyes, she watched it burn, but that didn't hurt nearly so much as what came after.
Grimly turning away from the flames, he said, 'I don't think your coming here was such a good idea after all.'
Which seemed to cap her own conclusions that she was an allround failure. Almost she decided not to come down to dinner. It was only the thought of Thyra being hurt that brought her.
The meal, she felt, was a failure too, with Stein sitting silent throughout and drinking too much. While she tried to convince herself she hated him but was unable to remove her eyes for long from his dark, handsome face. When she asked to be excused soon afterwards he didn't so much as reply.
In her room, with sleeplessness again troubling her, the now established routine of going downstairs to make a cup of tea or coffee had to be gone through. It was while she was coming back, carrying her hot drink, that the lights failed.
Nearly at the top of the stairs she halted abruptly, quite unable to see where she was going. Her attention wholly on the impenetrable darkness, she forgot about the mug she clutched until it fell from her nervous hand with a resounding clatter as it bounced down the stone steps before shattering in a thousand pieces at the bottom.
Sandra's sharp cry of dismay was as much of reaction as anything else, and it rose to a terrified scream as every tense nerve in her head seemed to tighten excruciatingly. Her hand groping for the stair-rail encountered nothing, which gave her the odd impression of falling, and she screamed again before collapsing on to the stairs with a low moan. It was a long time since she had felt remotely like this. Not since she had first gone, as a small child, to live at The Elms, and Gran insisted she have no night-light, not even in so large a house. Desperately she tried to restrain a mounting hysteria. It was no use thinking of that now! It was only the generator which had broken down, there was nothing else to frighten her. Yet somehow the house seemed much more alarming in the dark. Everything creaked, there were sounds everywhere, not least that of the rising wind, shaking the old roof, sending spirals of cold air under the huge doors, up the old staircase to tease her bare feet.
'Sandra — is that you?'
She hadn't heard Stein coming, but the sound of his voice should have brought relief. Inste
ad, jumping up too quickly, she bumped into his hard body and another frantic cry escaped her
as she clutched him wildly. 'Stein!'
'Good heavens, girl!' His arms enclosed her tightly, protectively, but like the night before his voice was tinged with impatience, 'whatever is the matter? I heard you scream and you're shaking like a leaf!'
CHAPTER EIGHT IT seemed a long time before she could speak coherently, but she knew, it was only seconds. Was this how Stein had felt when he had first been blinded? Every day, every experience like this, brought her fresh understanding.
Yet, as her thoughts softened, his apparently took entirely the opposite direction. 'Sandra — what the hell! Don't you think I had enough last night without a continuation of your little games?'
A great cold encompassed her. So that was what he thought? Numbly she forced unwilling limbs to withdraw from his arms. 'It's the lights.'
'The lights?'
Much as she stiffened he didn't let her go. 'Thyra warned us about the generator.'
'Oh, that!' His terse sigh smote her cheek as he held her. 'I forgot all about it. But what on earth are you doing down here in this state?'
'I wasn't in this state until the lights went,' she quivered resentfully. 'I went down for a drink.'
'Was that it rolling down the stairs?'
'Yes.' Again she tried to ease away from him, aware that the fear which flooded her body was being rapidly replaced by an emotion of another kind, even more devastating.
'You certainly make a din! Your scream could have scared me out of my wits. So you couldn't sleep?'
'I'm sorry if I woke you.'
He neither denied nor confirmed it. 'Darkness doesn't bother me now. I've come to terms with it. That drink — was it hot?'
'Just tea.'
'But did it scald you!'
It seemed crazy to be standing there, talking in low, hurried voices, one against the other, as if each was afraid of pausing for breath. 'No. It only caught my arm. I don't think there's any damage.'
He sounded grim — she didn't know if he looked it. 'Sometimes I'm not sure what I'm going to do with you, Sandra. You run about in the night with practically nothing on, a source of constant disturbance.'
'I'm sorry!' He didn't say whom it was she disturbed but, if it were himself, it could only be in the purely impersonal sense. She would like to have moved completely away from him, but the darkness was such that she might never find him again. Below her the hall yawned like a bottomless pit, above the corridors twisted deviously. 'You don't wear much yourself,' she forced herself to take the offensive.
'I was in bed, remember.' He paused, his chin reflectively scrubbing the top of her head. 'If you're feeling better I'd like to get you some form of temporary light until morning. There's nothing much I can do about the generator until then.'
All the way to the kitchen Stein kept his arm around her and she didn't object, knowing she couldn't have found her way alone. He told her where to find matches, then lamps, but the latter, to her dismay, were empty and there was no kerosene.
'Damn!' Stein frowned, in the glow of the flickering match as, in a cellar, he surveyed the empty drum. 'I should have checked. I should have remembered that Panayiotis, the one who was drowned, used the lamps for his fishing. We had an arrangement and he always kept the tanks well filled.'
'What do we do now?' Sandra enquired, as they made their way back to the kitchens. 'Not even a candle, and I can't strike matches all night.'
'I'm afraid you'll just have to bear the darkness until it's time to get up,' he drawled. 'I'll get you a brandy as you might still be suffering from shock, but after that you're on your own.'
In the face of such harsh indifference she felt like screaming that he could keep his drink, but common sense prevailed. She might need it if she was to spend the rest of the night alone in that huge bedroom. Not that she ever kept a light on while she slept, but the comfort of knowing it was there prevented her from being afraid.
Feeling an irrational resentment at the way in which he managed in the dark, she swallowed her drink, without apology for choking as it went down.
'Half a glass of that,' Stein quipped dryly, taking the empty tumbler, 'should settle you better than tea.'
'Half a glass! Oh, well, perhaps he was right, but she suspected he was secretly laughing at her. Her legs did feel a little unsteady, but that was only because of her fright. There was still the darkness and loneliness upstairs to be faced.
Near the bottom of the stairs, coming down, she had been glad of the slippers Stein found for her, as a precaution against broken china, but somewhere one had fallen off. Now, as she trod on a sharp fragment, she cried out. 'Now what's wrong!'
'Nothing!' Her voice squeaked as she hopped. 'I've just stepped on something!'
'Where are the slippers I gave you?'
'They — I mean one of them fell off.'
'You shouldn't have such small feet.'
They were at it again, talking quickly, but while Stein's tone was steady and grim, Sandra's shook. 'That doesn't solve my immediate problem.' Bending down, she removed a piece of glass from her foot.
Before she could protest he swung her up in his arms, lifting her so easily she might have been thistledown. 'God give me patience!' he ground out. 'If I don't do something we'll never get anywhere, and obviously, you'd only lose more slippers.'
Cradled against his broad chest she felt completely safe, never wanting to leave it, although, for appearances' sake, she put up a small struggle.
'Behave yourself, or I'll lock you in the cellar. You're drunk.'
'I'm not!' But instead of taking offence she turned her face into the rough towelling of his robe, which could have been the finest silk, so comforting did it feel against her cheek. It was heaven to be so near him —the truth could no longer be suppressed. If only she could remain here forever!
She didn't want to be put down but, as if entirely unaware of her thoughts, Stein dropped her gently outside her door.
Shuddering in the opaque blackness around them, she wasn't too proud to keep hold of his arm. 'Stein, I can't stay there by myself. Couldn't we go back down and light a fire?'
He sighed so deeply she could almost see his mouth go tight. 'I've used the last of the logs. If you doubt it you can check yourself in the morning.'
'But.. '
'If you imagine I'm going outside to replenish the supply and spend hours getting a fire going, then you can think again!'
Her dwindling courage disappearing altogether, Sandra felt so scared she scarcely knew what she was saying. 'I just can't stay here alone with no light!'
'Really?' he drawled, his voice careless, though she could feel the muscles of his arm tensing. 'Then what do you suggest? I've
no wish to return to a cold drawing room to keep you company.'
Sandra, hesitated nervously, drawing a long steadying breath. In the face of such encouragement it wasn't easy to go on. 'There — there's a chair in your room.' As soon as she spoke her heartbeats sharpened, but she didn't know what else she could do. Surely it wasn't so outrageous? Wasn't she Stein's wife, and wasn't this a kind of emergency?
'Listen, Sandra,' he was suddenly savage, 'I don't know what sort of game you're playing, but don't expect me to join in! Did no one warn you I'm way past the age for casual frolics with girls who should know better? You could get more than you bargained for.'
'All I want is to be allowed to sit in your room!' Attempting to repudiate what he said, she added recklessly, 'I'm not trying to get you to go to bed with me! I'm just sorry, now, I ever asked!'
'But you did, didn't you, honey,' he sneered, 'and I'm not usually so slow on the uptake. Last night you thought you heard me yell for help, this evening the lights fail. Was it the generator, I wonder, or a dead bulb? Did you contrive this too, and maybe plan to wreck the generator if all else failed?'
Ruthlessly, as he stopped speaking, his hand went to the light switch and, to Sandra's amazement,
the whole passage lit up.
'So,' he exclaimed softly, 'it was just one cleverly removed bulb. The others are all working perfectly, are they not? Didn't you know I can make out a slight difference between this and complete darkness?'
Speechlessly, Sandra gazed around, her eyes wide with bewilderment, her face white. When she had gone down for a drink she had left her light on but tightly closed her door for fear Stein should accidentally discover what she was doing. Nor had she put on the lights here, for exactly the same reason, and because she had noticed, by the faint glow, that there was still one burning in the hall — one that Stein must have forgotten as he came up to bed. Hysterical
laughter bubbled in her throat. It had never occurred to her that it might only be a bulb!
She stared up at Stein, as if willing the honesty on her face to get through to him. 'I'm sorry, Stein, if that's what you really think of me! I see now I've been rather stupid, but I never thought. I simply presumed it was the generator, after what Thyra said. Do you really think I enjoyed groping around with you in the dark?'
'It almost came off.'
His voice was harsh with anger as he disregarded everything she said, and she shuddered. 'I don't understand, Stein. You don't actually believe I planned all this deliberately so as to spend the night in your room?'
'What else should I think? You have the same acting ability as your cousin.'
'I see.' Feeling shaken to the point of fainting, she turned to leave him. Never had anything seemed as bad as this!' I'll admit I was stupid not to have checked the lights, but I promise I won't trouble you again. Goodnight, Stein.'
'Oh no, you don't!' Savagely his hand caught her back. 'This time, Mrs. Freeman, you can finish what you so shamelessly and confidently began. It's time you learnt you can't go round playing with fire.'
'Stein, put me down!' As he hauled her to him she found sufficient breath to protest but, taking no notice, he lifted her in his arms again, striding with her to his own room.
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