Waves of Fire

by Anne Hampson

  ‘I’ve a headache,’ she said by way of an excuse, but added, ‘I’m going to the wedding, though. I promised Elpidha, and so I must.’

  Elpidha’s small brother had recently been a patient at Loutras and this was a good excuse for inviting the entire staff to the wedding. During her visits to see her brother Elpidha had become particularly attached to Andreas, and also to Shani, and their invitations had been delivered by the girl herself, who had begged them to attend, if it were at all possible.

  Both being off duty, Shani and Jenny ordered a taxi and went together, arriving at the village of Ayios Vasilios in time for some of the pre-wedding festivities and rites. The koumtyari — or best men — were dancing with the mattress outside the bride’s house. The maidens then decorated it, sewing into the four corners red crosses. Incredibly the couple wanted a girl for their first child, and a two-year-old girl was rolled on the mattress. Money was then thrown upon it, the bride’s mother appeared with the incense, and after all the bride’s trousseau and other beautifully-embroidered linen was piled upon it the mattress was rolled up and carried by the bride’s father, on his shoulder, to the couple’s new house. Dancing and singing went on all the time; in the mud ovens hundreds of loaves were being baked, on the spits chickens and meat and tiny pigs were being cooked over the smoking charcoal, while inside the house the bride’s maidens were preparing her for the ceremony. The priest was in attendance all the time and he it was who shaved the bridegroom in readiness for the wedding. In the bride’s lemon orchard long tables were set out, covered with gleaming white cloths. The whole village was on holiday, for Cypriot weddings were always held on Sundays. At last the procession wound its way up to the church, the little girl attendants carrying lighted, be- ribboned candles almost as tall as themselves. The church was entered, with everyone talking at once. Never had Shani heard such a babble of voices.

  ‘These weddings really are a hoot!’ Jenny nudged her friend and pointed to a youth who was getting out his camera. In Greek he requested the bearded priest to halt the service while he took a snapshot. The priest smilingly obliged and the couple turned, all three posing for the shot. No sooner had the ceremony recommenced than the same thing happened again, and this went on the whole time. Meanwhile, the best men were passing round a long length of ribbon, on which they each wrote their name. ‘The best men pay for everything, did you know that?’ Shani nodded, her thoughts going involuntarily to her own wedding, with the congregation so reverent and the priest so serious. Here, there was so much laughing and talking that Shani felt doubtful of anyone’s hearing a word of the service.

  There must be a thousand guests, she calculated on coming out of the church. There was dancing and singing, eating and drinking, and this went on for hours. Tomorrow there would be a repetition, and the following day there would be a special party for the best men and the bride’s maidens.

  The bride and groom took no part in the festivities, merely sitting in the house and handing out wedding biscuits to each guest in turn. Later, however, the bride came out and performed her ceremonial dance, and there followed the custom of pinning money on to her dress. Soon it was covered with notes and her husband joined her, his clothes also being covered with notes.

  ‘All that money! ’ exclaimed Jenny. ‘They can collect as much as five hundred pounds in this way. They say all this is fast disappearing, but I’ll bet that’s one custom that will survive!’

  ‘Did you see all the presents?’

  ‘Stacked right up to the ceiling. I just tossed mine among them - felt I needn’t have bothered, for I’m, sure they’ll never know who’s brought what. ’

  ‘I think Elpidha will go through all the cards. She seems to be a rather sentimental little girl.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ agreed Jenny, holding out her glass for more champagne. ‘She is sweet. Do you suppose it’s a love match?’

  ‘Could be. Costa was approached by the parents of a much wealthier girl, but he chose Elpidha. ’

  ‘Good for him: He’s rather nice, too - and he works!’

  It was not until Shani was pinning on her money that she

  noticed her husband. He was with Lydia and they also were among the last to pin on their offerings. Shani and Jenny had each pinned on a one-pound note and then stepped back.

  ‘Did you see what Lydia gave?’ whispered Jenny. ‘A fiver! That’s only because Mr. Manou gave that sum,’ she added disparagingly.

  Lydia turned, gave Shani a condescending look before saying to her companion,

  ‘Andreas, shall we go now? We’re dining with the Benson-Smythes, remember.’

  ‘Benson-Smythes,’ scoffed Jenny. I’ll bet their name was plain Smith back in England!’

  Shani laughed.

  ‘I believe they’re quite nice people,’ she returned musingly. ‘I should imagine they must be, for I’m sure Mr. Manou would be most selective in his choice of friends. ’

  ‘You are?’ Jenny’s eyes followed the couple as they went towards Andreas’s car. ‘Then how do you account for his interest in that one?’

  Shani couldn’t and so she said nothing, but merely watched as they got into the car. A few moments later it edged its way through the laughing throng and was lost to sight round a bend in the road.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE first time Shani fainted she was alone; the second time she was in Matron’s room. She had been on her way out to do some shopping and had stopped to give Matron a message. When she came to Dr. Gordon was holding her wrist.

  ‘Have you any idea why you fainted, Sister?’ he asked.

  She hesitated. Had they guessed? She felt sure they had, but in any case she couldn’t have lied. A small silence followed her admission and then Matron spoke.

  ‘Brian knows, of course?’ her voice was pained and tinged with regret.

  ‘No.’ The doctor moved away and Shani clasped her hands in her lap. ‘Brian and I haven’t been going out together for some time.’

  ‘So I believe.’ The doctor spoke quietly and without the least hint of censure. ‘Jenny mentioned that you had parted.’

  ‘We haven’t seen each other for six weeks.’ She played for time, unable to collect her thoughts or decide what to say.

  Matron looked gravely at her.

  ‘You’re going to tell him, surely?’ She shook her head, and a long, trembling sigh left her lips.

  ‘It - it isn’t Brian’s child,’ she managed to say after a long hesitation. Never had she thought to feel so ashamed and embarrassed as this, and for a moment she knew a return of her old hatred against Andreas.

  ‘Not Brian’s? Then whose ...?’ Matron spoke reflectively and Shani caught her breath. Could she possibly have made a guess at the truth? Shani wasn’t left long in doubt; eager to escape, she declared she was feeling better and left the room, only to turn back as she remembered her shopping bag, lying by the desk where she had dropped it as she fell.

  ‘I have my suspicions,’ Matron was saying, ‘though I dare not voice them. But I’ve just recalled a little scene here when Sister was looking particularly happy. When I asked the reason for this she said she could not tell me yet. Obviously she was expecting the man to marry her, and

  obviously he’s refused.’

  ‘You can’t voice your suspicions, you say? Is he one of the staff?’

  ‘I can’t say anything, Doctor. But I’m almost certain I know who the father is.’

  A hand fluttered to Shani’s cheek. Matron was acute

  - but that little scene as she called it could not in itself give rise to her suspicions. Matron was also remembering that Shani and Mr. Manou had been ‘stranded’ on Troodos, and forced to stay there - at an hotel, Andreas had said.

  At last Shani knocked and pushed open the door. ‘I left my bag.’ Picking it up, she looked at Matron. ‘You won’t say anything?’ Her face was white; she felt ready to faint again.

  ‘Naturally this will go no further,’ was the pointed reply, but then Ma
tron added, ‘When you’re feeling up to it perhaps you’d like to come and discuss your plans with

  me?’

  ‘I’d like to stay on for a while,’ she began, when the doctor interrupted her.

  ‘Have a rest now, and then do what Matron suggests. Come and have a talk with her.’

  A few minutes later Shani was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of the high esteem in which Matron had always held her. A tear escaped and she could almost have gone down and blurted out the truth, astounding them both by saying yes, it was Andreas’s child, but they need not feel sorry for her because she was legally married. However, the temptation soon died. It was by her own choosing that she had discarded her wedding ring and posed as a single woman. Had she known her own mind just a little sooner everything would have been all right, but now Andreas’s interest in her had been lost and he no longer wished to acknowledge her as his wife.

  She had no right to expose him to gossip which must assuredly discredit him. There was one consolation: once away from Loutras she would assume her married name and be saved any further humiliation. Already she had been making plans, though only in her mind as yet. Her father had left her money which fortunately she had not touched. With Matron’s agreement she would remain at Loutras for another month or two and then leave for England where she would make her home with her aunt until the baby was born. Then, if her aunt was unwilling to have the trouble of a child in the house, Shani would find herself a small place and later, with her child at school, she would take a part-time nursing post at one of the local hospitals. That was as far as her plans went. She wanted the child and considered it to be her very own. Should Andreas learn of its existence he would most certainly demand that it live with him for part of the time; determined that her child would be brought up in a stable environment, she made the firm decision not to let her husband know anything about it.

  She saw Matron the next day and told her of the plans she had made.

  ‘Your aunt will have you?’ Matron asked anxiously after Shani had admitted that she had not yet written to her.

  ‘I’m sure she will. I’m her only niece and she’ll be glad to have me live with her. ’

  ‘Well, that sounds a satisfactory enough arrangement.’ Matron paused a moment, looking straight at Shani. ‘About staying here,’ she went on doubtfully and, Shani was quick to notice, with a touch of caution, ‘do you really consider it wise?’

  No mistaking the subtle advice, and Shani flushed. And yet her thoughts were not at the moment concerned with her own embarrassment. She was wondering what Matron was thinking of Andreas. Her inevitable condemnation of him, resulting from the belief that he had acted unprofessionally, troubled Shani, but there was nothing she could do about it. In any case, his reputation was safe enough. Matron had said herself she dared not voice her suspicions and this was true -for the simple reason that although she was convinced that Andreas was the father of Shani’s child, she could not be absolutely sure of this.

  Shani fell to wondering what would happen were the truth to come out at any time. Andreas would then have to reveal the fact of his marriage in order to keep his good name.

  ‘I’d like to stay,’ Shani said at last. ‘The money will come in useful. ’ Which was true, because if she did have to find her own place her money would have to be stretched. Nevertheless, Shani knew the money was not the important factor. While she remained at Loutras there was the remote possibility of a reconciliation; once she left the break would be final. And yet Shani knew she clung to an extremely weak thread of hope, for hadn’t Andreas made absolutely clear his loss of interest in her? Hadn’t he said with truth that when their ways divided he never wanted to set eyes on her again?

  ‘I suppose the money is important,’ agreed Matron.

  ‘But have you thought of the possibility of your fainting in the theatre?’ It would be unbearably embarrassing both for Shani and the surgeon, Matron was concluding, sure as she was that Andreas knew of Shani’s condition.

  ‘I’m hoping I’ll soon be past the fainting stage,’ said Shani with a slight smile. ‘After all, it’s only a phase, and

  doesn’t normally last long.’

  Matron shrugged.

  ‘How long do you want to remain here?’ ‘About two months. ’

  After some consideration Matron agreed, but, strangely, Shani left the room with mixed feelings. Perhaps it were better to make the break now. What hope did she really have? Andreas’s interest in her had waned ... or been transferred perhaps to Lydia Murray. It was inviting heartache to stay. Too late she had discovered her feelings for her husband ... just a little too late.

  Shani did not faint in the theatre, but sometimes she would feel off-colour and on one occasion, after Andreas had searched her face critically for a long moment, he said,

  ‘You’re pale, Sister. Are you not well?’

  Shani’s heart gave a jerk. Would he want her if he knew? Undoubtedly - but what satisfaction could she derive from the knowledge that she was accepted merely for the sake of the child? With her own new and tender emotions strong within her she was not prepared to make her life with Andreas unless he had at least some interest in his wife for herself.

  ‘I’m perfectly well, sir.’ Her voice was deliberately cold and unemotional; because she feared he might guess her secret. The child was hers, she thought fiercely, possessively. If Andreas knew about it he would want to share it, even though Shani refused to live with him.

  Andreas turned away, taking his gloves from Chrystalla. And as he drew them on he seemed to sigh inwardly. Perhaps, thought Shani, he was feeling very fatigued. Yesterday he had performed two major operations in Nicosia, and the one he was about to begin would be his second for today.

  ‘He seems to be always in a foul mood these days,’ said

  Jenny a week later as she came off duty, having done the ward round with him. ‘I’ll be jolly glad when he’s gone!’

  ‘He was in a temper, you mean?’ They were on Shani’s verandah, drinking coffee.

  ‘Not exactly - but just in an aggravating mood. He asked Mrs. Ronson if she was getting enough to eat and she said no. He considered it was all my fault. ’

  ‘Mrs. Ronson never has enough to eat. She has an appetite like a horse. ’

  ‘I know, and so does everyone else - except Mr. Manou.’ ‘Didn’t you tell him she’s always grumbling?’

  ‘And get my head snapped off? Not likely! He was bad enough when he first came, but now he’s unbearable.’ Shani said nothing and after a while Jenny said musingly, ‘I wonder what he’s like with Lydia? She seems glowing enough these days, so I expect he keeps a special front just for her alone.’

  Shani poured more coffee, a frown creasing her brow. How could she ever have wished he would fall in love with Lydia? And yet she had wished it - just so that he would agree to an annulment.

  ‘I’m leaving soon, Jenny,’ she said quietly at last, changing the subject. ‘I want to go back to England,’ she added hastily as Jenny gasped and opened her mouth to question her. ‘As you know, my aunt’s all alone.’

  ‘Your aunt? But you’ve never troubled yourself about her before; you said she liked living alone.’ Jenny looked at her curiously. ‘You’ve always said you loved the island, would be sad at leaving.’

  An awkward silence followed. Shani had known how difficult it would be to inform her friend she was leaving, and for that reason she had kept putting it off.

  ‘I just want to leave, Jen. Please don’t ask me any questions.’ ‘Brian?’ queried Jenny, ignoring her pleas. ‘You’re very upset about the break?’

  ‘It was rather upsetting,’ came the evasive reply. Perhaps this was the best way out. Let them all think she was going right away because of Brian. She could think of no other excuse, and an excuse would certainly be expected. It was a weak excuse, and would give the impression of instability in Shani’s nature, but it would suffice.

  ‘In my opinion it’s a pit
y you ever met him,’ returned her friend bluntly. ‘He’s a flirt and I don’t believe he would ever change his ways.’ She paused, but as Shani remained silent she went on, ‘You haven’t explained a thing about it - never said how it happened?’

  ‘There was a very good reason, Jen, but it’s something I just can’t talk about, even to you.’

  An impatient little shrug and then,

  ‘I’m sorry. I wish I could help.’

  ‘No one can help.’ The words came swiftly, involuntarily, and Jenny’s face clouded.

  ‘You’ve definitely made up your mind to leave?’ ‘Matron knows, and is already negotiating for a replacement.’

  ‘So there’s no possibility of your changing your mind?’

  Shani shook her head.

  ‘None whatever.’ If only she could confide! It would surely help to relieve the weight of misery and. hopelessness that was gradually settling on her as with the passing of each day Andreas continued to treat her with almost frigid indifference. But a confidence was impossible and she said dully, ‘I’ll be home for Christmas.’

  ‘You’re leaving so soon? That’s less than six weeks,’ added Jenny after a quick calculation.

  ‘It’s in five weeks,’ returned Shani, having already begun to count the days.

  Jenny picked up her cup, regarding her friend over the rim of it, that curious expression having returned to her eyes. She was puzzled, which was only natural, thought Shani, knowing full well what Jenny was thinking. Shani’s strength of character was at complete variance with her decision to throw up her job and leave the island simply because of the break with Brian.

  ‘I suppose you know what you’re doing,’ said Jenny at length, ‘but I’m sure you’ll be sorry. I’ve never yet met anyone who can leave this island without regrets.’

  Nor am I leaving without regrets, thought Shani. Bitter regrets at not seeing the light sooner. If only she could go back and re-live those last four days on Cos! If only she had not been filled both with uncertainty and a sense of honour towards Brian.