Waves of Fire

by Anne Hampson

  ‘My orders were that I be called were I needed. Fortunately I woke and decided to get up and take a look at him. You’d gone by this time - too drunk to remain, I suppose!’

  ‘No!’ Dr. Reeves shouted the word, startling his daughter so that she actually jumped. ‘I wasn’t drunk... You can’t prove it.’

  ‘I can - and have - proved that the wrong drug was administered on your instructions, and had I not decided to get up when I did the patient would have died

  — died, after all my work!’ He paused and it seemed to Shani that his anger was mingled with conceit. Andreas Manou was said to possess a certain arrogance and conceit, but because of his incredible skill these were excused. ‘How will you answer the charge?’ Charge! Shani’s heart turned right over, leaving her shaking visibly.

  ‘The nurse - it could have been her fault—’

  ‘You coward!’ cut in the Greek with a snarl. ‘You cowardly wretch. But have no doubts, my friend, you’re the one who’ll pay for that error, and pay dear. You’re not fit to have men’s lives in your hands.’ Shani’s trembling increased. That her father had made a terrible mistake was evident and the consequences could have been disastrous. No wonder Mr. Manou was furious. As he said, the man could have died— She checked her thoughts, for they terrified her.

  The men were still arguing - or rather, one accused while

  the other denied. And as she listened Shani suspected her father of crying and tears started to her own eyes; his suffering had been so great, and often he would sit and reminisce, while Shani patiently listened, even though she knew she was a phantom audience, as her father was really quite alone.

  ‘The first time I saw her I wanted her, she was so lovely, so very lovely. And it was not only on the surface — no, your mother was the sweetest-natured woman that ever lived.’ Although he mentioned Shani in a roundabout way he still was not with her, or she with him. He was alone with the woman he loved. But one day he did become aware of his daughter’s presence; he looked straight at her and said, ‘It will be the same with you, Shani. The man will come one wonderful day; he’ll see you, and know that you are his.’

  Shani made no comment. She did not believe that love at first sight could happen very often. Moreover, in her opinion it would be a miracle if both were of the same mind. And it was no use the man loving on sight unless the woman could return that love.

  ‘I don’t want to marry for a long while yet,’ she had said at length, giving him an affectionate smile. ‘My career’s only just beginning.’

  ‘Yes, I know, and it’s the one I would have you choose, but don’t become so dedicated as to let the wonderful state of marriage pass you by.’

  ‘The way I feel at present I want to spend many years at nursing. Marriage has no appeal for me.’

  Her father had, frowned at first and then smiled faintly, saying that when the right man came along, and fell in love with her on sight, she would be powerless to resist him.

  Back to the present, Shani was brought with a jerk as she realized the voices had stopped and that the Greek was walking towards the door. Stepping back into the other room, she sped through it with the intention of returning to her chair in the garden, but as she reached the outside door she literally fell into the arms of the tall stranger as he strode furiously from the house.

  ‘Oh!’ breathed Shani, wincing at the pain of his grip on her arms. ‘I’m sorry...’ The collision had left her panting slightly and as she tilted her head right back in order to look at him her breath caressed his face, soft and warm and clean. Her lovely lips were parted and her startled eyes, staring into his, were the colour of an eastern sky at noon. From an incredible height he regarded her, his dark eyes strangely softened by wonderment and disbelief.

  ‘You must be Shani?’

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured, wondering why he did not release her. ‘Yes, I’m Shani.’

  ‘Shani...’ The name rolled on his tongue, enriched by the hint of an accent. ‘How very charming.’ Whether he meant the name or the girl she never knew, because the hardness returned to his face as her father appeared from the room behind him.

  ‘Andreas, for God’s sake, is there nothing I can do or say to make you change your mind? The drink - Shani will tell you, I never touched it until my wife died and I felt so utterly shattered....’ He tailed off as he took in the scene before him. The Greek’s attention was once more with the girl he held in his arms. ‘Shani, what are you doing?’

  Flushing hotly, she gave a little twist to release herself as the pressure on her arms was relaxed.

  ‘I bumped into Mr. Manou.’

  Allowing that explanation to pass without comment, her father renewed his pleading with Andreas.

  ‘Surely you’re human? You won’t report me—?’ ‘Human.... ’

  Andreas kept his eyes fixed on Shani’s face as if he would never take them off it, and there was the most odd inflection in his voice as he murmured, almost to himself, ‘Yes, I’m human.’ Misunderstanding that rather obscure remark, Shani added her pleas to those of her father.

  ‘I overheard much of what you said to Daddy,’ she admitted,

  her cheeks colouring adorably. ‘And what he said just now is quite true; he never drank until a year ago, when Mummy died.’ She still stood very close to Andreas and as she raised imploring eyes to his she had no idea how desirable she appeared to him, in this attitude of supplication. ‘Please keep silent, Mr. Manou. He won’t ever drink again. I know he won’t.’

  ‘I swear it!’ said Dr. Reeves fervently. ‘Give me a chance, I beg of you. You’ll not denounce me — I somehow can’t believe you will.’

  Andreas was still occupied with the vision before him and despite her growing discomfiture at the intensity of his gaze Shani determinedly examined his face, surprised by the fact that the first impression of cruelty was fading somewhat. Did he really intend exposing her father? More likely, she concluded, it was his intention to frighten him, and as he had plainly succeeded Shani was on the point of - feeling grateful when the dark Greek confounded her by saying,

  ‘You just asked me what you could do, Reeves. You can give me your daughter.’

  A bird twittered in the solitary tree at the end of the garden, and that was the only sound as the three looked from one to another. Overhead the clouds had thickened, blotting out the sun completely. Shani glanced up, frowning. The sudden darkness seemed like an omen of perils to come.

  ‘I don’t think I understand you.’ The doctor spoke at last, passing his tongue over lips that had become white and parched.

  ‘I’m offering for your daughter,’ explained the Greek in calm unruffled tones. ‘There’s nothing unusual in that.’

  ‘Andreas,’ said the doctor after a pause, ‘it might be the practice in your country for a man to choose a girl and offer for her, but you are not in Greece now.’

  ‘I’m a Greek, nevertheless,’ smiled Andreas, glancing in his direction, ‘and naturally I conduct my affairs in accordance with the customs to which I am used. I’ll take Shani from you, and you have my promise that she’ll have care and — consideration.’

  The older man shook his head dazedly, unable to admit that the Greek could possibly be serious. As for Shani herself, through the mist of her bewilderment she was wondering about the slight hesitation; Andreas had most certainly been going to say something quite different when, with what appeared to be a hasty check, he had altered it to ‘consideration’. Presently she shrugged. What he had been about to say interested her no more than what he actually had said.

  ‘In this country we don’t give our girls away,’ her father was saying. ‘Shani will one day fall in love, and her husband will be a man of her own choice. Her future’s entirely in her own hands.’

  ‘And your future’s in mine.’ So softly he spoke, but again Shani was reminded of an animal, panther-like, ready to spring. Her father went white as the full significance of his colleague’s words became clear to him.

  ‘I
can’t believe you’re serious - when you offer for Shani, I mean,’ he said feebly, spreading his hands. Catching his expression, noting the haggard lines that all at once added years to his age, Shani slowly and tremblingly accepted the fact that her father knew this formidable Greek had never been more serious in his life. Andrea’s next words proved her conclusion to be correct.

  ‘I don’t waste my time saying things I don’t mean. I desire to marry your daughter and I’m requesting you to give her to me.’ No answer from the doctor and Andreas added quietly, yet with a sinister threat in his words, ‘Your daughter in return for my silence.’

  Having been an impassive onlooker in the drama in which she should be playing the chief role, Shani spoke at last, her chin in the air.

  ‘You’ve just reminded us you’re a Greek, and that you conduct your affairs according to the customs of your own country, but as Father has reminded you, you’re not in Greece now. This is England, and your customs appear rather ridiculous to a westerner.’ A slight was not intended, but unfortunately Shani bungled her phrasing and the Greek’s straight black brows knitted together ominously as he said, in those familiar soft and menacing tones,

  ‘May I say your arrogance appears rather ridiculous to me, under the circumstances. Your father is in a most precarious position, his future career and good name being entirely in my hands, as I’ve already said. According to how I decide to act he will retain his position and the respect of his patients and friends, or he’ll retire into ignominious seclusion.’

  ‘His work is his life,’ she cried, her flash of arrogance bitterly regretted. ‘Oh, you can’t denounce him!’ Unconsciously she twisted her hands in a distracted sort of way, for there was no doubt at all that they were completely in this man’s power. If only he had not seen her. But he had seen her, and desired her -

  just as he would had she been a woman of the East — and the hold he had over her father was now a tool to be used in blackmail. ‘You can’t do this to us! Father’s learned his lesson without any serious damage being done, so please let it pass. He won’t ever touch drink again—’ ‘Never,’ declared the doctor. ‘I’ll make a solemn promise about that.’ His voice was unsteady and Shani thought it must touch some soft chord in this man’s makeup, but she reckoned without the primitive desire she had awakened in him, a desire that she soon realized was enveloping him so entirely that any chivalry he did possess was for the present submerged.

  ‘I’ve stated my terms.’ He spoke to Dr. Reeves, ignoring Shani altogether, just as he would have done had she been a Greek girl for whom he had offered. In his country the prospective bridegroom - or in some cases his parents - and the girl’s father would arrange the union, with the girl herself meekly accepting what was planned for her. ‘Your daughter — or exposure, take your choice. Perhaps you’ll let me have your decision tomorrow.’ He was about to walk away when Dr. Reeves’ voice arrested him.

  ‘I can give you my decision now,’ he said brokenly. ‘Go ahead and report me—’

  ‘Father, no!’ White to the lips, Shani moved closer to him, placing a hand on his arm in an effort to comfort him. ‘You can’t decide without considering the consequences.’

  ‘I have considered them.’

  ‘Wait until tomorrow, darling. You can’t think clearly at present.’ She would not look at the man responsible for all this misery, but she knew that for the first time in her life dark hatred burned in her eyes.

  ‘You have my decision,’ her father said stiffly, and waved a hand towards the gate in a gesture of dismissal. Andreas stood where he was, watching Shani’s back.

  ‘I’ll give you until tomorrow, all the same,’ he said in a voice whose confidence could not possibly be missed. ‘I shall not change my mind.’

  ‘No?’ Strong brown hands were quite unexpectedly on Shani’s shoulders, and Andreas turned her gently round to face him. Deeply he looked into her eyes and although he could not possibly miss the hatred there he saw something else as well, something which he had apparently expected to find, for he said, with a smile of triumph which only served to increase Shani’s hatred for him. ‘I wonder, Reeves, I wonder...?’

  The wedding was a fashionable affair, as Andreas had many friends both Greek and English. Shani had friends too and on seeing Andreas for the first time at the wedding they all made whispered exclamations. ‘Where did she meet him? He’s terrific!’ ‘Through her father, I expect. The great Andreas Manou - lucky thing! ’

  ‘He’s so handsome and distinguished.’

  ‘And famous. What more could any girl want?’

  ‘They say he’s never had the slightest interest in Women.’

  ‘But you must admit Shani is something. I’ll bet he fell in love the moment he set eyes on her!’

  ‘Could have - seeing how the wedding’s been so rushed. Shani dined with us three weeks ago and could talk of nothing else but

  her career. I’m sure she hadn’t even met him then.’

  ‘Hush ... here they come. Have you ever seen a more striking couple? And that dress — they say it’s been flown over from Greece — was made, every stitch by hand, for Andreas’s great-great-grandmother.’

  ‘All that lace-made by hand?’

  ‘So the papers said. The Greek women spend their lives sewing and embroidering.’

  ‘That necklace, all diamonds! A family heirloom, probably.’

  ‘She looks like an angel. I’ll bet every man in church is envying her husband!’

  But as Shani walked towards them, her hand resting stiffly on her bridegroom’s arm, her lips tight and her eyes unmoving, the whispered comments took a different turn.

  ‘Shani... she doesn’t look happy!’

  ‘Her eyes - how sad... ’

  ‘Not a smile for anyone; that’s not like Shani.’

  ‘She must be happy. It’s nerves.’

  ‘I think you’re right. It must be nerves?’

  She was very pale, but a most beautiful bride for all that. Later, at the reception, she stood with her husband and wondered if any bride had ever felt as desolate as she. Her father’s eyes met hers and in them also dwelt the deepest misery. He had wanted to take the consequences of his folly, rather than sacrifice her, but Shani’s had been the decision. Her father’s sufferings over the loss of his wife were still great, but he loved his work and as it kept him almost fully occupied he had little time left in which to brood. Were he to be exposed and brought into disgrace, a disgrace that must inevitably result in a life of forced idleness, then that life would not be worth living. Unwilling to see this happen, Shani had made her decision and would not waver from it. She would marry Andreas, but she would also make him rue the day he ever put that ultimatum to her father.

  This she told herself over and over again without any clear idea of how she would pay Andreas back as she glanced up at him, standing there by her side as they shook hands with the guests, she felt her heart was dead within her. She would never be a match for him, would never commit any act of reprisal without bringing down some punishment on her head. He was of the East, where a woman, having the status of a mere possession, submitted without question to her husband’s will. And hadn’t Andreas said, when making his ‘offer’ for her, that he would conduct his affairs according to the customs of his own country?

  For a long while she stood there by the dressing-table musing over the events of the past two weeks. The tragic death of her father just as he was leaving the wedding reception. His health had given Shani a respite made more bitter by the fact that she had prayed for some miracle that would save her from this formidable Greek to whom she was married by consent and yet assuredly by force.

  Andreas had been kind, this she grudgingly had to own. And certainly everything had been taken out of her hands. But the loss, coming when it did, not only upset her nerves, but was also the cause of an increased resentment against her husband, for had he not hurried her, insisting on the wedding taking place when he desired it should do so, she woul
d never have married him at all.

  Naturally the honeymoon was postponed as Shani was stricken with grief, but after a fortnight she had begun to sense an impatience in her husband, an urgency which she took for desire and which, to her disgust, he did not seem able to control.

  We’ll go away for a few days,’ he had said, and even though she guessed at the futility of pleading she had asked for more time. Firmly he had refused, impervious to her tears. ‘You don’t think it now, Shani, but you’ll feel better for the change.’

  ‘Perhaps I would, if I weren’t married,’ she cried, wringing her hands. ‘Can’t you wait a little while longer?’

  He remained adamant and there came to her the idea that had persistently intruded into her mind for the past week. But it would be too dishonest, she had kept telling herself. Voluntarily she had entered into marriage, knowingly she had accepted the fact of Andreas’s being different from her both in temperament and appearance; vaguely she had become resigned to occupying an inferior position to that which would have been her lot had she married an Englishman. No, she could not cheat—she must not.

  And so when he had remained firm she had meekly packed her things and accompanied him to Folkestone, where he had suggested they spend their honeymoon. He had chosen the best hotel, booked the most luxurious suite.

  Her musings were interrupted by the appearance of her husband, and it was only on seeing him in dressing-gown and pyjamas that she realized how long she had been standing there. His brows lifted at her appearance; he slowly advanced towards her and she did not resist when he took hold of her hands. But she was pale and afraid. What sort of man was this whom she had married? Dark and sinister, a foreigner in whose blood ran the pagan traits of his idol-worshipping forebears, he would crush and subjugate her until she had no will of her own, no personality, no life other than that of a slave, a possession to be used, indifferently laid aside, and used again as this man’s passions and desires dictated. Shani knew the colour had left her face, she also knew — or thought she knew — that Andreas was impatient, that soon she would encounter a fury that would make her present fear seem no more than a small fluttering of trepidation.