A Kiss From Satan

by Anne Hampson

  ‘We haven’t any.’

  Gale nodded briefly, then wanted to know how they had met.

  ‘It was the most unromantic thing!’ Mrs. Davis’s voice was light again, and she laughed to herself, musing privately for a fleeting moment. ‘I came out of the supermarket loaded - had two of their carriers because I’d left my big basket on the bus, in an absent-minded moment. Well, you know how unreliable those bags are, and not one gave way, but both. All my shopping spread over the pavement! Everyone looking, so you can imagine how I felt?’ Gale nodded and had to smile. So shy, her mother! This must have been the most embarrassing moment in her life. ‘Some of the things rolled away into the gutter - like the scouring powder, which was in a drum. Then I’d bought vegetables and there were onions and tomatoes all rolling about.’ She stopped and they both laughed together as they had not laughed for a long while.

  ‘Go on,’ urged Gale when she had recovered. ‘This Jack came along, of course.’

  ‘He stopped his car, but by that time all sorts of people were running about, picking things up. But I’d nowhere to put them. Jack promptly took over the situation, bringing out a large cardboard box from the car and telling the people to put the things into it. He then said he’d better take me home, which he did, and stayed for a cup of tea. The next day he called to see how I was—’

  ‘To see how you were?’ echoed Gale, puzzled. ‘Were you hurt at all?’ She could not recall her mother ever having anything wrong with her - not physically, that was.

  ‘It was just an excuse! Surely you can see that. It became a regular thing for him to call, but after a few weeks I began to get worried about the neighbours. You know how women can put the wrong construction on things. Also, I felt guilty about the whole thing, and in addition I was getting far too fond of him — it’s easy, Gale, when you’ve been starved of your husband’s love for so long.’ She stopped and glanced appealingly at her daughter.

  ‘I understand, Mother,’ Gale said softly, and her mother continued, telling her of the struggle and the decision to tell Jack he must not come again.

  ‘I meant it to be a final break, but we could not, Gale, we just could not. Jack agreed that he mustn’t keep coming to the house, but suggested we meet outside.

  This I flatly refused to do - but you already know that.’ ‘You obviously kept in touch, though.’ Gale was beginning to revise her opinion of the man, who sounded sincere after all.

  ‘Yes. We used to phone each other.’

  ‘Each other? How could he phone you?’

  ‘I used to be in the kiosk at a given time and he’d ring me there. He had an idea I hadn’t much money and as he wanted to talk for a long time he said he’d rather phone me. However, I did phone him on occasions — in between his calls, just if I happened to get depressed.’ She stopped and a small silence fell between them as each became absorbed in thought.

  ‘This state of affairs must have gone on a long time,’ commented Gale at last, and her mother nodded.

  ‘Until you - I mean. ...’ She allowed her voice to trail away and a blush rose to her cheeks. How pretty she was, thought Gale. Love had done this ... real love, not the shallow thing called desire on which her own marriage was based. These two had existed on spiritual love alone for three whole years....

  ‘Until I stayed at the lodge with Julius,’ Gale finished for her, and the blush deepened and her mother looked away, as if unable to meet her daughter’s eyes. These eyes narrowed. Gale was thinking about her conviction that her mother had been playing a part - that there was something dominating the whole business of her marriage, something mysterious and inexplicable.

  ‘Yes, until you did that.’ The words seemed forced from her as Mrs. Davis continued to avoid her daughter’s gaze. ‘I felt justified in living my own life after that.’

  ‘And so you met regularly?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Gale in a thoughtful sort of way, ‘do you still believe I slept with Julius—?’

  ‘Gale dear, please don’t use these modern expressions!’ her mother cut in, and Gale just had to laugh.

  ‘What’s so modern about that? You’re fifty years behind the times, my pet. You haven’t answered my question?’ she added in an altered tone.

  ‘I -I don’t - don’t know - exactly.’

  ‘You don’t?’ Gale willed her mother to face her, but failed. ‘Surely you know your own daughter?’

  Her mother seemed lost for words; Gale was suddenly convinced that whatever she said her mother would not say the words Gale wanted her to. And this only added to the mystery. As the silence continued Gale changed the subject, reverting to Jack and asking if she could meet him.

  ‘I was going to suggest that,’ came the ready agreement. ‘He’s been wanting to meet you and Edward, but of course I’d never let him see Edward, who is so like me in that he dislikes these modern ways.’ She stopped and gave a deprecating shrug in response to the amusement which had come swiftly to her daughter’s eyes. ‘You know what I mean?’ she added at least.

  ‘Of course, darling, but do go on.’

  ‘I’ll phone him this evening and we’ll arrange to have dinner somewhere. He’ll be so delighted at the idea of meeting you. He’s even suggested he and I

  come out to Patmos for a holiday, just so he could meet you - and Julius, of course,’ Mrs. Davis added as an afterthought.

  ‘You go out to dinner with him regularly?’ Gale asked, reflecting on this change in her mother’s life and deciding she fully agreed with it.

  ‘Yes, ever since we -I— Oh, dear, I’m not at all tactful.’

  ‘Ever since the episode - shall we call it whenever reference to it is necessary?’

  ‘You’re laughing at me, dear, and that isn’t at all like you, or kind!’

  ‘It isn’t at all like you — or kind - to brand me a nogood,’ Gale couldn’t help flashing back, but once again was denied the satisfaction of reading her mother’s expression. ‘I’ve only three days at most,’ Gale reminded her, deciding there was no point in pursuing a subject which was unlikely to show profit. ‘I want to be back before Julius.’

  ‘Yes, of course, dear. We’ll go out tomorrow evening.’

  ‘Jack won’t have anything else to do?’

  A smile of confidence resulted from that question.

  ‘If he had he’d cancel it,’ came the answer, in tones possessing not the faintest thread of doubt.

  ‘You certainly sound very confident of him, and happy.’

  ‘I am happy - but of course not completely by any means. I’m grateful, though, to fate for sending Jack to me. He’s making life bearable.’ Gale listened and her eyes shadowed, but not for her mother this time. It was for herself she felt sympathy; she had lost so much in marrying for the reason she had married. She saw this now; she saw and admitted that spiritual love coupled with a deep mental attraction was the real foundation of marriage. Physical love was important - very important -but it must be cemented by the other two emotions, otherwise all must inevitably collapse.

  Noticing this rather melancholy mood of preoccupation, Mrs. Davis suddenly asked, deep anxiety portrayed in her low attractive voice, ‘Gale dearest - you are happy with Julius? You must be!’ The exclamation came impulsively, as if actually tom from her, and Gale’s head shot up and her expression was baffled while yet inquiring too.

  ‘I’m happy - yes,’ but without any marked enthusiasm, and to her amazement she actually saw her mother’s eyes film over. She spoke, seeming to forget Gale’s presence as she said,

  ‘He loves you— You must be happy! Oh, if you’re not, after what I did! It would be too awful — I’d never forgive myself for - for—’ She broke off. Gale’s eyes and ears were alert. She had the unshakeable conviction that she had been as close as she would ever be to solving the mystery of the events preceding her marriage.

  ‘Go on, Mother,’ she encouraged softly, but it was too late. Mrs. Davis with a swift recovery shook
her head and fell silent for a space. But presently she became deeply troubled again and asked, this time looking deeply into Gale’s eyes,

  ‘You love him now? I know you didn’t at first, but you’ve learned to since? Say you have, my dearest Gale, for otherwise I can never be happy again as long as I live.’

  ‘I’ve learned to love him since our marriage,’ returned Gale, intent only on assuaging his mother’s conscience ... but it was with a sort of stunned disbelief that the truth hit her.

  She had meant what she said,

  The cosy little inn, set among a small grove of trees, and yet unblemished by the modernizing stampede of the brewers, was as homely as any cottage kitchen. A fire burned in the big black grate; crazy beams ran along an even crazier ceiling and disappeared into higgledy-piggledy walls. There was even a ‘salt oven’ which delighted everyone who saw it. Wall lights provided the only illumination - soft amber and intimate. Flowers grew in pots everywhere and soft strains of a waltz pervaded the small dining-room from some concealed instrument or box.

  ‘Your usual table is reserved, madam.’ The smiling waiter gestured towards the bar. ‘You’ll be having a drink first?’

  ‘Of course.’ Not a great deal of confidence in the tones, but enough to make Gale gasp. What a change had come over her mother! Love did more than put a glow in one’s eyes, it seemed.

  They were seated by the fire when suddenly Mrs. Davis’s eyes lit up.

  ‘That’s his car outside. I know the sound of the engine.’

  Gale’s eyes went automatically to the window; dusk was falling and all she saw was the tall figure alight from the massive car and, closing the door, Jack locked it and strode away, out of sight round the side of the building, making for the entrance through which Gale and her mother had entered shortly before. Fleetingly Gale’s thoughts went to her father; she could not help visualizing his expression were he to walk in and see his wife sitting there, flushed and lovely, waiting for her man friend to come into view.

  A few seconds later Gale was looking up into the young, handsome face - a face so different from that of her father, whose dissolute pleasures over a long period had inevitably left their mark. This man was clean-living. There were no lines upon the firm bronzed skin, no nauseating odours of stale alcohol and nicotine emanating from his clothes. On the contrary there was the healthy smell of newly-laundered linen and the less commonplace one of after-shave lotion. His hair shone and so did his even white teeth; his grey worsted suit was immaculate and so were his suede shoes. He was an estate agent, her mother had told her, having his own business with branches in more than a dozen large towns.

  ‘I’m very happy indeed to meet you, Gale.’ He smiled as he spoke, and it was not difficult to see how he had come to win her mother’s heart. His tones were low and cultured, his grip on her hand firm and friendly.

  ‘That certainly goes for Gale, too,’ Mrs. Davis could not help inserting on noting her daughter’s expression.

  ‘I don’t know?’ He looked down at Gale and waited a moment before adding, ‘Gale should be allowed to speak for herself, my dear.’

  ‘This is a pleasure,’ she murmured with a smile. He saw that she was exceedingly relieved and laughed as he sat down beside her mother, beckoning for the waiter.

  ‘I’m approved, I take it?’ There was in his eyes the sort of satirical challenge Gale might have seen in those of her husband, had he been asking a similar question. Gale instantly gathered that although he hoped for her approval he certainly had no intention of begging for it. No wonder her mother had fallen for him! He had just about everything, even to that certain degree of arrogance that is an essential facet of supreme masculinity.

  Gale just had to say,

  ‘Is my approval really important?’ She found she was experiencing a certain awkwardness as she did not know what to call him.

  ‘Your mother would be troubled if you decided you didn’t like me.’

  She shook her head, voicing the spontaneous thought that came directly upon this statement.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly dislike you.’

  Faintly he inclined his head; the dark brown hair caught the light from the back of the bar, and it shone with bronze glints and the merest suggestion of a grey strand here and there.

  ‘Thank you, Gale. I can most sincerely say the same about you. I’d heard all about you, of course—’ He broke off and smiled affectionately at her mother. ‘Yes, I’ve heard all about both you and your brother. Two of the best children in the world—’

  ‘Jack, dear!’

  ‘All right, I shan’t embarrass either of you further.’ His drink had come; he pressed them to have another, but they refused and both picked up their glasses as Jack said, very serious all at once, ‘Let us drink to the future ... and to our happiness.’ Gale put the glass to her lips, but she was suddenly too full to drink. Where was this elusive thing called happiness? It could be snatched and caught - but it so often slipped away before it was safely ensnared ... and it mocked as it escaped. What happiness was there for the three sitting here, in this intimate room in an old-world inn hidden away, the trysting-place where lovers could at least hope to meet with some degree of safety. In dreamy musings Gale saw these two, meeting here in their secret place which somehow they had found - and perhaps others like them had also found it. Dimly-lit, discreetly-screened tables - just five in all. It might have been designed exclusively for clandestine meetings.

  ‘You’re a long way off', Gale.’ Jack’s voice brought her back and she smiled at him across the table. The firelight caught her lovely features in its mellow saffron glow and she saw the gleam of appreciation enter his eyes. ‘Where were you? Back in Greece with your husband?’

  She swallowed, wondering just how much her mother had told him. Nothing, she decided on reflection. He would have wanted to know why she was here all alone, though, and her mother would have told him over the phone that Julius was in Munich on business and so Gale had seized the opportunity of coming home.

  ‘In a way, yes.’ It was a white lie and she felt her colour rise faintly. ‘I was thinking about - happiness.’

  A small silence fell and Gale sought her mother’s eyes. They were shadowed, but not too much so. She was grateful for what she had - grateful and even satisfied. Gale shifted her gaze to the man who was so attractive that it seemed impossible he hadn’t been ensnared before now. Many women must have been attracted to him, as they were to Julius. But he had not philandered. ... The thought that her husband had philandered hurt abominably and she tried to thrust away that admission of yesterday, tried to tell herself it was not true. She had not fallen in love with her husband — she wouldn’t be so utterly foolish. Hadn’t she vowed never to put herself in so vulnerable a position a second time? And hadn’t she remained immune for over five years?

  Bitterness flooded over her as the truth prevailed, crushing these feeble protests and forcing her to face up to reality. She had fallen in love with Julius ... and had been let down for a second time. She deserved all she got!

  Two days after the cosy little dinner Gale was back in

  Patmos, waiting for Julius’s return. He had informed Apollo earlier that he would be arriving about six in the evening and this information was conveyed to Gale the moment she stepped into the villa. She had thanked Apollo, and then by subtle questioning had managed to elicit from him the further information that Daphne was also away from home. And now Gale was waiting, pale but resolved, to impart her own information - to her husband. She would tell him at once that the marriage was at an end. He could have Daphne, could spend all his time in Paris with her if he wished. Gale would convince him she didn’t care.

  He came by taxi from the harbour; she watched its slow approach as it covered the last length of drive and came to a standstill close to where she stood, on the patio, in the swiftly-fading twilight. With his customary elegant grace Julius alighted, paid the driver, left him to deal with the luggage, with the help of Apollo who ha
d come from the side of the villa, and, taking the steps three at a time, he stood close to his wife, looking down into her pale face with an expression of sardonic amusement.

  ‘Miss me, my dear?’

  Her eyes blazed, seeming to light up her whole countenance.

  ‘Why should I?’ she countered, keeping a hold on that fury that threatened to burst into an all-consuming conflagration. ‘Did you have an enjoyable time in Munich?’

  ‘I didn’t go for enjoyment, you know that.’ He was puzzled and frowning. His voice took on an edge of crispness as he said, ‘What’s wrong with you? I expected an eager welcome and what do I get? A wife with a face like a thundercloud. You did miss me now just you own to it.’

  Her fists clenched. Temper raged, but it was bitter pain and disillusionment that caused the tears to form behind her eyes. How attractive he was, even now, with that distinctive hair and the lines of perfection forming dark and arrogant features. Hollows beneath the high cheekbones gave an added leanness to his face; his eyes seemed darker than ever — almost black. With a sudden flood of shame she admitted she wanted nothing more than to feel his arms about her ... his hand on her heart....

  Thoughts like this gave colour to her face and his frown deepened at this swift and incomprehensible change.

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Julius,’ she managed with well-feigned lightness. ‘I too have been away. I went home.’

  ‘You did?’ He shrugged. ‘So you didn’t miss me, after all?’

  ‘Quite right,’ with a sort of acid sweetness, ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘I see.’ He appeared to be set back somewhat by this news and she thought, ‘It would almost seem he went away specifically to test me, to discover whether or not I would miss him.’

  But of course that was not the reason for his going away. He had a very different reason altogether.

  ‘Mother sends her regards,’ she said, watching him closely. His face was an unreadable mask and all he said was,