South of Mandraki

by Anne Hampson

  discovered, somehow, that Daros’s grandfather had threatened Toni, and therefore his marriage could have stemmed from nothing more than necessity. Olivia would naturally feel optimistic about entering into competition with Toni - should Daros be willing to forgive whatever wrong had been done to him by his former fiancee.

  Competition....Why should such a word come into her thoughts? There could be no competition between Olivia and herself. That arrogant, domineering foreigner in there was Olivia’s for the taking — and the best of luck to her!

  But a most odd little sensation was creeping over Toni, a sensation she could not define, and one which kept her awake, tossing and turning, far into the night.

  Her last thoughts were, however, of Charitos Leonti, and the outing they had arranged over the telephone. Toni had wanted to take the children, but Leonti had finally managed to persuade her that she needed a rest from them.

  ‘Surely there are servants who can look after them,’ Leonti had suggested. ‘What about the housekeeper? Won’t she have them for half a day? After all, they’re not babies.’

  ‘Very well, I’ll come without them. They’ll be all right with Maria, as you say.’

  ‘Good. We’ll drive to into Rhodes, have lunch and after that you can do some shopping if you like. Then I’ll show you round the city.’

  Shopping! Toni hadn’t a drachma to her name!

  ‘I’ll not waste time shopping, Leonti. I’d rather go sightseeing.’

  And so it was arranged, with Toni experiencing slight pangs of guilt at leaving the children, yet on the other hand eagerly looking forward to an afternoon in Charitos’s company.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AFTER lunching at the Grand Hotel they wandered towards the old city, with its walls built by the Knights Crusaders and its strange Turkish architecture where the houses displayed latticed harem alcoves which seemed to peer with a kind of guilty inquisitiveness into the narrow twisting lanes below.

  As they entered through the magnificent Sea Gate the sudden change of scene was reminiscent of that in a pantomime. In a few steps the West was left behind and an Oriental city appeared before their eyes.

  ‘How fantastic!’ exclaimed Toni. ‘Everything’s so peaceful

  — all cobbled and medieval, and mosques and minarets!’

  Charitos laughed at her way of describing it; the moment was an intimate one and he slipped an arm through hers.

  ‘The trees and the funny little lanes,’ he added, entering into her mood. ‘The arched houses that seem to be supporting one another.’

  ‘And the sense of isolation - and a sort of fear.’

  ‘Old influences remain. For a long period the Greeks had to be out of the Old Town by eight each evening.’

  ‘They were afraid of the Turks?’

  ‘No, the Turks were afraid of them. We haven’t always been as kind and gentle as we are now,’ he added with a laugh.

  Kind and gentle? That wasn’t how she would describe one particular Greek. Could he, though, have inherited some of his vices from his English father? Possible... but highly improbable. The English weren’t at all like that, she decided loyally.

  ‘How about something to drink?’ suggested Charitos after a while. ‘This sun makes one thirsty.’

  They sat near a mosque, under the shade of a huge plane tree. Toni’s eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed; it was her first trip beyond Lindos and she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Charitos ordered from the sallow Turk who came from the cafe, and then he just sat back in his chair and fixed his eyes with admiration on his companion.

  ‘Why,’ he said at last, ‘does your husband let you come out like this?’

  ‘Should my husband be able to stop me?’ she queried, bristling at the way the question was phrased.

  ‘I would - were you my wife. ’

  ‘Then I’d defy you.’

  ‘Is that what you’re doing now? - defying your husband?’

  ‘He doesn’t know I’m out.’

  ‘You didn’t tell him where you were going?’

  ‘He wasn’t in, so of course I couldn’t mention that I was going out, could I?’

  He laughed and Toni caught her breath. How handsome he was - and in a nice sort of way. His mouth was full and soft, his eyes a lighter brown than usual in a Greek, and they too were soft and held a hint of humour in their depths.

  ‘Supposing he had been in - would you have told him you were going out with me?’

  A moment of thought and then,

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  He came forward in his chair.

  ‘You puzzle me, Toni. How long did you say you’d been married?’

  ‘About ten weeks.’

  ‘And you don't mind going out with another man.’ He shook his head. ‘I know the English women are free, as it were, but -well, aren’t you in love with your husband?’

  She looked straight at him and considered his question.

  ‘If I said I was, would you believe me? she queried at last. ‘Frankly, no. You’ve never struck me as being the starry-eyed bride one expects a newly-married English girl to be. Now the Greek girls ... they rarely appear as starry-eyed brides.’ ‘Because of course they don’t marry for love.’

  ‘Exactly. They marry because their parents advise them to.’ ‘After the parents have decided upon a husband for their daughter.’

  ‘Usually.’ He paused and then, ‘But you, Toni. Tell me, why aren’t you in love?’

  ‘I’ve not admitted that I’m not in love.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you have! Answer my question, Toni; it’s important that I know a little more about you.’

  Her heart gave a sudden jerk. Should she confide in him? He could be trusted, she felt sure ... and there was a good reason why he wanted to know more about her. Toni had only to look into his eyes to learn that.

  ‘Our marriage was necessary. Neither of us is in love.’ ‘Necessary?’

  She hesitated, but all at once made up her mind.

  ‘Daros’s grandfather was going to kill me—’

  ‘Kill you! ’

  ‘It was the vendetta. I lived in Crete at the time.’ She went on to explain, watching his changing expression when at last she said there would eventually be an annulment.

  ‘So in time you’ll be free?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Yes, Charitos, one day I’ll be free.’ She smiled at the cafe owner as he brought the drinks to their table; his brown teeth were revealed as he also smiled.

  ‘You are a tourist, madam?’ he asked, showing the whites of his eyes as he glanced at her companion.

  ‘No, I live here.’

  ‘In Rodos?’

  ‘In Lindos.’

  ‘Ah ... that is beautiful, yes?’

  ‘Very beautiful.’

  The man smiled again and moved on to another table nearby. Silence fell between Charitos and Toni as they sipped their drinks. Charitos was deep in thought; Toni watched him for a while and then her eyes wandered.

  Men were entering the mosque, discarding their shoes at the entrance. Just across the square on the other side, an open door revealed a floor covered with a black and white pebble mosaic in an ancient pattern, and from a small house closer to came the appetizing smell of Greek cooking. Bouzouki music blared forth from the record shop where a crowd of tourists stood and listened, wondering whether to buy.

  Toni sighed contentedly; this was a Rhodes she had never seen and she was grateful to Charitos for bringing her. For the journey was fairly long and as she had no money she would never have been able to make it on her own. The thought of money brought the three children to mind. She would have liked to take them something back, but of course that was impossible. How much did she owe her husband? She shook her head. She didn’t know, and she hadn’t the least desire to know. It was a large sum which would take months to repay.

  ‘Shall we go?’ Charitos spoke at last and Toni nodded. They strolled on through the city where evidence of the
past lingered at every corner, where the very atmosphere seemed drenched with the austere culture of those courageous knights, where the cascading bougainvillea clothed the walls and covered the proud crest of some great medieval magistrate whose glittering sword had been drawn against the hated infidel. It was truly a city of the past.

  A short walk brought them to the Street of the Knights. Tourists were there in their hundreds, lagging behind weary guides or staring with mild interest at the house of the Knight Villaragout, or the Spanish Quarters or the Quarters of the Knights of Provence.

  Toni and Charitos looked at one another and laughed.

  ‘What do they get out of it?’ she exclaimed, staring rather pityingly at the small group close by. ‘I’m not satisfied. I’m going right inside one of these illustrious houses!’

  ‘In?’ her companion stared at her. ‘They’re all occupied.

  You can’t go in.’

  ‘If I know your people, Charitos, there’ll be more than one tenant who’ll welcome me into their home.’

  The street itself was little changed since those far-off days when the Knights had lived there. The houses were close together, the fronts unpretentious except for the arms and insignia of the famous families who had, centuries ago, occupied them. On going down a back street and coming to the rear of the houses Toni made the discovery that the houses had been vast, with grand stone staircases and magnificent inner courts. Today they were occupied by ordinary people, who appeared to treat them with great reverence, as if ever sensible of living in an atmosphere of a glorious and historic past.

  ‘Look at the washing! What would the Knights think!’

  ‘I expect the Knights had to change their clothes,’ commented Charitos with a laugh.

  ‘Yes, but it does look incongruous - lines of nappies and -and things.’

  ‘Babies are not exactly new inventions. And I expect the Knights’ ladies had the - er — things, though definitely more voluminous.’ Toni laughed with him and then said what was the betting that she gained entry into one of those splendid houses. ‘I don’t think I’ll risk my money, not with that look of grim determination on your face,’ decided Charitos with a shake of his head.

  ‘Poli kala,’ ventured Toni to an old woman sitting on a doorstep, clad all in black. She smiled and Toni raised admiring eyes to the flower-strewn arched balcony above her head. ‘Para poli kala!’ she said with great emphasis on the first word.

  ‘Not going to work,’ said Charitos with a hint of good-humoured malice. ‘Even though you have said her house is more than very good.’

  The old woman stood up and after the smallest hesitation made an inviting sweep of her hand.

  Toni looked at her companion and laughed delightedly. ‘Efharisto poli ... thank you very much indeed.’ The woman left them to make their way through her home. After touring the downstairs rooms, which were still just as the Knight had had them, with not the least adornment on the massive sandstone blocks which made the walls, Toni went outside again and asked permission to go upstairs. A nod and a smile and off she went, Charitos following, his good-natured face creased with laughter.

  ‘Now why are these stairs so wide?’ she murmured with a frown.

  ‘The horses ascended them - when the necessity arose,’ Charitos reminded her.

  ‘Of course they did! Just imagine, Charitos, the Knights riding home after their victories, and their beautiful ladies waiting for them.’

  ‘My, you are a romantic, aren’t you?’ Without warning he drew her close and kissed her. ‘A romantic ... and a loveless marriage. How every unfair!’

  She stood on the top of the great staircase, blushing hotly, Charitos’s kiss still warm on her lips.

  A romantic? Practical and prosaic, she would have described herself ... at one time. But now ...

  ‘You shouldn’t have, Charitos. I’m - I’m married.’

  ‘In name? And both of you intending to dissolve the marriage immediately the opportunity arrives. No, my dear Toni, you are not married.’

  ‘Charitos ...’

  ‘Darling?’ He had released her and stepped back, but he moved close again. Toni extended a restraining hand and shook her head vigorously.

  ‘I feel — somehow - ashamed. Why is that?’

  ‘You have no need to feel ashamed. You’re quite free—’

  ‘But I’m not, Charitos!’

  ‘Was it your fault you had to marry? Did either of you enter into it with any intention of trying to make a go of it? From what you’ve said Daros doesn’t even have respect for you—’ ‘Did I give that impression? I didn’t mean to.’ Yes, she still felt ashamed, and somehow disloyal. Yet what loyalty did she owe to Daros? Not a scrap.

  ‘Toni darling, I love you - and I’m fairly optimistic about your feelings for me. We must wait, and although for me it will be difficult I’m quite resigned. I’ll not trouble you, Toni, but do let me kiss you now and then.’

  ‘We must go,’ she murmured evasively. ‘The old woman will wonder what we’re doing.’ All her pleasure at being in this Gothic mansion had faded; she walked down the broad stone steps with lagging feet. Why should she feel like this? She had wanted the friendship with Charitos to develop, had considered herself free to accept love should it come her way. It wasn’t as if Daros meant anything to her. She disliked him intensely, as he disliked her. They were totally unsuited and in any case there had never been any question of the marriage being permanent - as Charitos had just remarked. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me,’ she quivered, speaking her thoughts aloud.

  Her hand was taken in a comforting clasp.

  ‘You’ve a troublesome conscience, Toni. Why, I do not know, and yet it’s commendable in a way. However, with a little thought you’ll find there’s no foundation for this feeling of guilt. You’re free, my dear, free - do you understand?’ They had reached the place where the old woman sat; she smiled and inclined her head when Toni thanked her again. They walked on, her hand still clasped in his, and he asked her where she wanted to go next.

  ‘We were going to the Palace,’ she reminded him halfheartedly.

  ‘And now you’re not interested?’

  Toni managed a wan smile.

  ‘I’m being silly, I know. But I must have more time, Charitos.’

  ‘Of course you shall have time.’ He gave her hand a little squeeze. ‘Everything will come right in the end; I’m not worried about that. And now,’ he added briskly, ‘let’s forget it and enjoy ourselves!’

  They merely walked along the promenade of the New Town, which was also the port of Mandraki. Its picturesque windmills were turning slowly, and it was somewhere here that, according to legend, stood the Colossos of Rhodes, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. In the harbour were many

  brightly- coloured boats flying flags of various countries. They were mainly pleasure craft, luxurious small cruisers owned by some of the world’s wealthiest men.

  ‘Would you like to sit down?’ Charitos stopped by a seat, canopied and most discreetly set in a great cluster of hibiscus bushes.

  ‘What is the matter with me?’ Toni spoke impatiently, looking at her companion for an answer,

  He hesitated a while and then,

  ‘Do you... care for me, Toni?’

  She fixed her gaze on the distant row of palms, waving gently in the breeze.

  ‘I don’t know, Charitos. I really don’t know.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have come out with me if you hadn’t liked me a little.’

  ‘I like you a lot,’ she was able to answer truthfully, and he seemed quite satisfied with that.

  ‘We’ll leave the rest to take its natural course, then.’

  She turned to him, her eyes shaded with gratitude.

  ‘You’re kind to me, Charitos. I think your name suits you admirably.’

  ‘Come,’ he said after a while, ‘I shall buy you a present.’

  ‘No, Charitos—’

  ‘Yes, Toni.’

&nbs
p; She laughed then and as they rose she tucked her arm in his. After all, why shouldn’t he buy her a present if it gave him pleasure?

  As they walked round the shops what remained of her

  dejection evaporated. She felt gay again and when he asked her what she would like she uttered without thinking,

  ‘Some of my favourite make-up, please, Charitos.’ He turned his head and looked at her, his eyes kindling strangely. But all he said was,

  ‘Of course you shall have your make-up.’

  Toni bit her lip. She had asked for what was to her a near necessity, but she now realized that make-up was naturally one of the things she would buy for herself, had she the money. . . . Did Charitos suspect she was without? Embarrassment welled up within her and she would have done anything to take back her words.

  With the present bought, Charitos then said he wished to get something for his mother’s birthday.

  ‘She’s mad on rings,’ he added, ‘so we’ll try the jewellers on this row first. You can help me choose.’ Unconsciously, as they examined the rings put before them, Toni twisted her own ring. It was gold, with a flawless diamond surrounded by rubies. Her grandmother’s engagement ring, and left to Toni in her will, it was one of Toni’s greatest treasures, and she gave the assistant a glowing smile when he remarked on its beauty. A few moments later the owner of the shop appeared and the assistant drew his attention to the ring. He took hold of Toni’s hand, looking long at the ring before saying with a hint of eagerness, ‘You would like to sell your ring, madam?’

  ‘Certainly not.’ She pulled her hand from his and gave her attention to the velvet-covered tray on the counter.

  Do you like this one, Toni?’ Charitos passed her a ring.

  ‘For me, I like this one better - but you know what your mother likes.’ She picked up a ring and gazed intently at it, but she knew the owner of the shop was still looking at her hand.