A Secret Rebellion

by Anne Mather

  ‘Let me go!’

  With a supreme effort she fought free of him but the ease with which she escaped his grasp surprised her. One moment, he had been possessing her wrists, urging her against his taut body, making her aware of his own arousal, and the next she was standing, swaying, almost lost without his support.

  Alex, meanwhile, was watching her with a vaguely contemptuous expression. It was obvious he knew exactly how she was feeling. She hadn’t fooled him with her futile protestations. He had felt her weakness, but for some reason best known to himself he had not chosen to take advantage of it. She had the unpleasant suspicion she was going to find out why.

  ‘I—think you said something about tea,’ he remarked suddenly, and Beth felt her charged emotions spin into confusion. What now? she wondered unsteadily. How could he think about tea, when only moments before…?

  But that kind of thinking would get her nowhere. Maybe the worst was over, she thought, discovering a button on her blouse was undone, and hurriedly restoring it to its proper place as she moved towards the sink. She had done what she had promised to do: she had told him about Tony, and endeavoured to explain Linda’s reasons for avoiding a confrontation. Whether or not he understood her position, whether he even believed her, was not her problem. What she had to do now was behave as normally as possible; and get him out of her house, before she made some irreparable mistake…

  The kettle was lying on its side in the sink where she had dropped it, and she rescued it with trembling fingers, and filled it from the tap. Then, realising that it was foolish actually to fill the kettle, when every minute it took to boil would only prolong her nervousness, she half emptied it again, before attaching it to the plug.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought Greeks drank tea,’ she ventured, in an effort to restore some normality to the situation, and then started, when he pulled out a chair from the small pine table, where she ate most of her meals, and, straddling it, sat down.

  ‘Half-Greeks do,’ he responded, reminding her once again that his ancestry was mixed. ‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘you know almost nothing about my likes and dislikes. Ironic, isn’t it? We’ve slept together, but we haven’t exchanged much small talk.’

  Beth fumbled the tea caddy out of the cupboard, only saving it from spilling into the sink, too, with an effort. ‘Perhaps that’s because you can’t talk about anything else but what happened that night in London,’ she retorted unguardedly. Then, with some impatience at her own recklessness, she added, ‘It’s been a lovely day, hasn’t it? British summers seem to be getting better and better.’

  ‘Do they?’ His response was coolly mocking. ‘Well, Greek summers are good, too. And, dare I say it, more reliable? Much like Greeks themselves. More honest, anyway.’

  Beth turned on him then. ‘There you go again,’ she exclaimed, the tautness of her nerves giving her a spurious courage. ‘I’ve apologised for what I did. What more do you want me to say? I’m sorry if I hurt your pride. I didn’t know it would be you.’

  Alex’s eyes narrowed, fixing her with a dark compelling gaze. ‘You didn’t know what would be me?’ he echoed, latching on to the one inconsistency in her words, and Beth felt the hot colour flood her cheeks.

  ‘I mean—I didn’t know who you were,’ she mumbled, bending over the cups she was setting on a tray, and for a moment the only sound was the water heating in the kettle.

  ‘All right.’ When she had convinced herself he must have guessed her objective, Alex spoke again. ‘All right,’ he said again, ‘you didn’t know who I was. Leaving aside the obvious comment that you were taking an appalling risk, I’m willing to make a bargain with you.’

  ‘A bargain?’ Beth looked up, but her throat was dry.

  ‘Yes, a bargain,’ said Alex smoothly, his long fingers tracing the grain of the chair. ‘You persuade Linda to accompany me to Athens, and when the trip is over I won’t bother you any more.’

  Beth blinked. ‘But she won’t go! I’ve told you—’

  ‘She will, if you tell her you’ll go with her,’ Alex interrupted her evenly, pressing down on the back of the chair, and getting to his feet. ‘You can forget the tea. I’ve decided I’m not thirsty after all. I’ll leave you to think about it. Don’t come to any hasty decisions. I can be a real nuisance, believe me!’

  CHAPTER SIX

  EAST of Athens, beyond the sprawling suburbs of the rapidly expanding city, the foothills of Mount Hymettus were dotted with Byzantine shrines. Beth knew they were Byzantine shrines, because she had read the guide book she had bought with reluctant avidity, devouring its pages nightly, in an effort to dull her mind. She knew that there was a monastery at Kaisariani, and a spring shaded by a huge plane tree. It was said that the spring had certain powers of fertility, and even today superstitious women came to drink its waters.

  She could have bored Linda silly with all the useless information she had absorbed about Greece. Information about fishing and industry; about cultivating vines, and growing olives, and catering to its ever-growing tourist population. She had done her best to stifle any natural curiosity she had had, and filled her head with the prosaic facts of Greece’s economy. It was only now, as they drove up a bare winding slope towards another white-walled monastery, that she had to acknowledge she had absorbed other things as well. Not least the awareness that the scent drifting through the open window was from the thyme that grew in such profusion on the hillside, and that the flowering shrubs were interspersed with pink and mauve anemones in the springtime. She could almost see the delicate petals, spreading themselves so proudly, before the blazing heat of a summer sun burned their sweetness away. But even the browned earth had its magic, and the vista that spread before them, when they reached a bare plateau, was impossible to ignore.

  The Aegean was spread out ahead of them, blue and almost brittle in the clear afternoon light. The brilliance of the light here was legendary, imbuing everything with its radiance. Beth had the feeling she could see into infinity, as if that was the actual curvature of civilisation on the far horizon.

  But then, she had had similar feelings of awe when their flight from London had circled over Athens, and she had had her first glimpse of the Acropolis. From the air, the ancient temple of Athena looked wonderfully impressive—more impressive than it did on the ground, Justine had informed her spitefully, in one of her rare bursts of confidence.

  But then, Justine did not approve of Beth’s trip to Greece. She considered the whole idea highly unsuitable. ‘I think you’re mad,’ she had declared, when she discovered what Beth had reluctantly agreed to do. ‘You hardly know this girl, or her in-laws, and you’re planning on wasting part of your holiday in humouring her. Lord, she doesn’t know when she’s well off. The Thiarchoses could have washed their hands of her. Instead of which they’re bending over backwards to be courteous.’

  Beth could have agreed. Indeed, she had tried to change Linda’s mind, not least because of her own feelings. She didn’t want to go to Greece. She didn’t want to spend any more time with Alex Thiarchos, or get to know him better. She already knew him far better than was good for her.

  But Linda had been adamant. Not even the news about Tony’s grandmother’s legacy had persuaded her to do what they asked. Increasingly, Beth had had the feeling that without her participation the younger woman would have refused to allow any connection between herself and the Thiarchos family, which begged the question of why she, Beth, had permitted herself to become involved.

  Of course, she had reasons to justify what she was doing. Aside from any threats Alex might have made, Constantine Thiarchos was an old man, and, whatever his sins, he must have loved his grandson very much. Surely Linda owed it to him at least to acknowledge his existence. Even if she was feeling bitter now, once the shock of Tony’s death had ceased to be so painful she might regret refusing this chance to get to know her husband’s family.

  Or so Beth had argued, consoling herself with the belief that what she was doing was rig
ht, if not entirely sensible. It really had nothing to do with her own unwilling involvement with Alex Thiarchos; nothing to do with any latent sympathy she might feel for him, or the guilt she was suffering by keeping the knowledge of her own condition to herself. She was accompanying Linda as an impartial bystander, that was all—though only time would tell how impartial she could be.

  And, of course, Linda had eventually acquiesced, accepting Beth’s offer to accompany her without question. It was as if the fact that she had been there, when Tony was buried, had created a bond between them. A bond Beth told herself she was eager to break, as soon as this journey was over.

  But for now, she was compelled to go through with it, warding off Linda’s words of gratitude with a rueful heart. It was hard to accept her thanks for coming with her, when there was so much more involved. Hard to view what she was doing rationally, when emotion was tying her hands.

  She pressed an unwary hand to the distinct swell that marked her midriff, and knew a moment’s panic. Slowly, but surely, her pregnancy was beginning to show, and she realised she had been a little reckless in allowing Linda to stay and take her exams. But the girl had been so desperate not to have to return to college the following year, and Beth had had to agree that she needed to graduate, if she wanted to support herself.

  To begin with, Beth had tried to tell her that she probably need never worry about supporting herself again, but Linda had been adamant. She didn’t want the Thiarchoses to support her; she wanted to be independent. And how could Beth ignore that, when she had had much the same feelings when she left home?

  Alex had not been pleased, of course. He hadn’t returned to Sullem Cross, but Beth had received two rather hostile phone calls. If this was some ploy she was using, he had warned, if she thought by delaying their departure he might change his mind, she was wrong. She had precisely three weeks to deliver Linda to Athens. Without that affirmation, he could not answer for his actions.

  Which meant, Beth knew, that news of her unseemly behaviour in London could reach the ears of officialdom, and, while she might try to convince herself that she didn’t care, that she was taking a sabbatical, and his accusations couldn’t hurt her, she knew it wasn’t true. They could hurt her; they could hurt her chances of being employed again. And, with a child to support, she couldn’t afford to take the chance.

  Of course, there were times, particularly in the early morning, when she felt sure he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, but those times were few and far between. Besides, if she was completely honest, she would have to admit that, Alex’s threats apart, she was curious to see where her baby’s father had been born and brought up. Her child was going to know so little about its father. She owed it to herself to learn something of his background.

  Any anger she had felt at his high-handed manipulation of her immediate future had soon dissipated. She was doing something she believed in—at least so far as Linda was concerned. And, after she got back to England, she need never see Alex again. It seemed a reasonable bargain. At any rate, it was the best she was going to get.

  But that didn’t mean she had to enjoy it, she told herself, as the chauffeur-driven limousine that had collected them from the international airport in Athens began its rugged descent towards the coast. Nevertheless, she had to force herself to sit back in her seat as they skirted pine-clad promontories and vineyards, with grapes ripening in the sun. It was an effort not to respond to the sight of white beaches and rocky coves, and villas gleaming white, in gardens bright with geraniums and other flowering plants. And everywhere there was the light, and the air, and an atmosphere filled with the glories of the past. Almost every hilltop had its temple or its shrine, and Beth could feel the magic of the place seeping into her bones.

  ‘It’s so hot!’ Linda said beside her, fanning herself with a languid hand, and Beth dragged her eyes away from the window to give her companion a sympathetic smile.

  ‘It is,’ she agreed, though in all honesty she was revelling in the unaccustomed warmth of the July day. ‘Shall I ask the driver to turn up the air-conditioning?’

  ‘Can you?’

  Linda gave her a wry look, and Beth made an apologetic gesture. ‘Probably not,’ she admitted, realising her smattering of schoolgirl Greek wouldn’t get her very far. ‘Well, it can’t be much further. Al—that is, Mr Thiarchos said Vouliari was only about thirty miles from Athens. Near enough for his father to commute to his office, apparently. We’ll soon be there.’

  ‘And you think that makes me feel better?’ Linda countered drily. ‘Beth, I don’t want to get there. I just want to go home.’

  ‘Oh, Linda!’ Beth stared at the girl with worried eyes. ‘It won’t be so bad. Honestly. Tony’s grandfather just wants to meet you. That’s natural, isn’t it? In the circumstances?’

  ‘To salve his conscience, you mean?’

  ‘No.’ Beth sighed. ‘Linda, whatever Constantine Thiarchos did while Tony was alive, he’s paid for it, hasn’t he? No one—no one could have anticipated that Tony might—might—’

  ‘Kill himself?’ Linda spoke almost dispassionately. ‘No. No one could have anticipated that.’

  Beth shook her head. ‘That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it. No one knows how Tony died. So far as the coroner was concerned, it was an accident.’

  ‘Was it?’ Linda was sceptical. ‘How can I be sure of that?’

  ‘Look,’ Beth attempted to reason with her, ‘you’ve got to put the past behind you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why?’ Beth stared at her. ‘Because—because you have. You can’t let it control the rest of your life.’

  But even as she said these words Beth wondered how qualified she was to use them. She had let the past control her life. She had let her mother’s betrayal and her father’s bitterness turn her into an emotional cripple.

  ‘We’ll see,’ Linda muttered now, staring blankly through the car window, and with that Beth had to be content.

  A few minutes later, they turned off the wide coast road and followed a myrtle-strewn track fringed with evergreens. It wound down towards the beach, and then veered upwards again to a small promontory. A vine-hung gateway gave access to a shingled drive, which in turn circled a tumble of hydrangeas to reach a wide forecourt.

  And then they saw the house. It was a sprawling single-storeyed dwelling, with wrap-around wings, which seemed to enclose a courtyard at the rear. Like the other villas they had seen it was painted white, with a tiled roof of dark red tiles, but there the resemblance ended. Its impressive size, and the ornate ironwork at its windows, signified that this was more than just another house. And when two men emerged from the back of the house to check on their arrival Beth had a little indication of what being a Thiarchos might mean.

  ‘Oh, God!’

  She had been so intent on her own feelings, she had briefly forgotten Linda’s, but now Beth looked at the girl’s horrified face with determinedly cheerful eyes. ‘Well, we’re here,’ she remarked, rather obviously. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful spot?’

  And it was. Sliding out of the car, which the chauffeur had opened for her, Beth thought she had seldom, if ever, seen a more beautiful one. They were on a narrow plateau, with the blue waters of the Aegean seemingly visible an all sides. A bay curved away to their right, and in the distance she could see the roofs and gardens of a small fishing village. Vouliari, she guessed, remembering that Alex had mentioned the nearness of the village. But closer at hand there was a shelving hillside, with lawns and gardens, and a sun-kissed cove below, where the water creamed and surged along the shoreline.

  ‘Beautiful,’ Linda echoed unenthusiastically, climbing out of the car behind her. ‘But so hot!’ She shaded her eyes and watched a pair of seabirds, swooping and crying overhead. ‘Do you think the Thiarchoses own the village too?’

  Beth glanced round, half apprehensively, but happily no one appeared to have overheard them. ‘Don’t be cynical,’ she said, pushing her hand through the girl’s arm
, and trying to jolly some positive response from her. ‘Just think of this as a holiday. It’ll be over soon enough.’

  ‘Will it?’ Linda didn’t sound as if she believed her, but she permitted herself a brief glance at the house. ‘It is—nice,’ she admitted unwillingly. ‘Do you think Tony’s father will be here to introduce me?’

  Beth succeeded in suppressing her own exclamation at this enquiry, and managed a small smile. ‘Oh—I shouldn’t think so,’ she said, realising this was something she hadn’t given too much consideration to. She had been so intent on persuading Linda not to back out of their agreement, she hadn’t thought of what she would do if Alex didn’t keep to his. But he wouldn’t be here, she told herself. He had admitted he lived and worked in London.

  ‘Kiria!’

  The unfamiliar form of address had both women turning to look at the person who had used it. An elderly Greek woman, dressed almost entirely in black, was standing on the forecourt, evidently waiting to escort them into the house.

  ‘Oh—’ When Linda said nothing, only looked at the woman with anxious eyes, Beth stepped forward. ‘Um—milate anglika?’

  ‘Ne, kiria, a little,’ the Greek woman nodded, and Linda turned to Beth in obvious panic.

  ‘She doesn’t speak English?’

  ‘She does. A little, anyway.’

  ‘But she said—nay!’

  ‘She said ne,’ Beth amended. ‘It means yes. Ohi means no. Didn’t Tony tell you that?’

  Linda shrugged. ‘He may have done,’ she mumbled, a little wildly. ‘Oh, lord, Beth, what am I doing here? I’ll never make myself understood.’

  ‘My father speaks excellent English,’ a low, attractive male voice inserted, and Beth, who would have known that voice anywhere, swung round in alarm. Just as she had suspected, Alex Thiarchos had emerged from the villa behind them, and was now standing watching them, arms crossed over his midriff, his dark face alight with satisfaction.