by Anne Hampson
It seemed that a sigh escaped him before, holding her at arms length, he said, 'Come, it's time we were going down.'
Adela, one of the housemaids, had gone to rather more trouble with the table than usual. There were deep red roses at one end and small individual flower arrangements beside the plates. Candles flickered in their antique silver holders, while crystal and gleaming cutlery scintillated in the golden candleglow, which, subtly blending with the amber reflection from the wall lights, bathed the entire room in an atmosphere of mellowed elegance reminiscent of a bygone age.
With his customary fastidious attention to etiquette, Vidas pulled out his wife's chair for her and saw her seated; she felt the thrill of his lips on her hair and was glad she had used an exotic, perfumed shampoo earlier in the day.
'Tell me what you've been doing with yourself,' invited Vidas, as he sat down facing her.
She told him about her meeting with Bridie and went on to say she had invited her to come over sometime. 'You don't mind?' she ended a trifle uneasily.
He shook his head. 'Not at all. I have never been overfriendly with the Grivases, but I met them several times when Dendras gave his parties.'
'Shall we invite them to dinner sometime?' she asked animatedly.
Her husband's eyes flickered. 'You're anxious to make a friend from your own part of the world, it would seem.'
'Yes. It was nice to talk to Bridie.' A small pause and then, 'She seems very happy.'
'It was love at first sight. She probably told you?' His tone held a hint of mocking satire.
'It is possible for people to fall in love on sight, Vidas, even though you sneer at the idea.'
He said nothing more about it and a friendly silence reigned until, as they were eating the dessert, he said they would take a stroll in the garden when the meal was over.
There had been a swift flurry of rain while they were having dinner, and when they went out, it was into a nebulous curtain of darkness which made Kim instantly seek her husband's hand. But they had not been walking for more than five minutes when the clear silver sphere of the moon emerged from behind the fast-disintegrating clouds. The gardens were suddenly bathed with moonlight, and the rejoicing splendour of earth and sky after the rain was something that could be felt with more then the senses; it was a physical awareness of all that was totally unsullied—pure and fresh and clean. Glancing up at her husband's profile, Kim caught her breath, wondering how she had come to be married to such a man. And naturally her thoughts sped on to the possibility of his one day falling in love with her. It would be a miracle… but miracles sometimes happened.
She and Vidas walked on, hands still clasped even though the moon was flooding the landscape with light. Kim tried to speak, to break the silence, then suddenly had no wish to break it, for there had come over her a vague yet all-embracing sense of isolation, as if she were quite alone in the stillness of the castle grounds, cut off from the world… She stared unseeingly into space, and in her heart and mind reigned a peace that was absolute.
Then, plaintively into the silence, came the distant cry of a donkey, tethered on a lonely hillside. Kim frowned, her heart going out to it, and involuntarily she turned to Vidas and said with a touch of anger, 'Why are you people of the East so cruel to your animals?'
Startled by the vehemence of her outburst, he seemed unable to reply at once. When he did, it was to say curiously, 'Does it trouble you so much, then?'
'It would trouble anyone with a heart!'
'Are you suggesting we of the East don't have hearts?' His footsteps slowed, then stopped. Kim drew her hand away, then wished she hadn't.
'Have you no imagination to understand the suffering of that poor little donkey up there? He's probably thirsty, and in addition his food is out of his reach.'
'Food?' he echoed enquiringly.
'The grass. He'll have eaten all that is within reach.'
'That's one reason for tethering an animal—to prevent it from eating too much.'
'It's no use trying to make you understand,' she said impatiently, then fell silent. For an idea had occurred to her, and when Vidas was taking a stroll a couple of days later, he stopped in amazement at seeing a bedraggled little donkey grazing in a newly made paddock in a rather remote part of the castle grounds.
'Where the devil did that donkey come from?' he demanded, after striding back to the patio where he knew his wife was sitting, clad in bright green shorts and a scanty white sun top that left little to the imagination.
'Him… ? Oh, I bought him—'
'Bought him?' He cut her off, his eyebrows raised. It was plain that he suspected she had taken leave of her senses. 'Are you serious?'
'Of course.'
'What on earth did you buy him for?'
'To rescue him,' replied Kim, having regained her calm after the slight shock Vidas had given her by speaking so sharply and in that imperious tone of voice. 'He needed to be rescued, don't you think? Have you seen how thin he is?'
Vidas eyed her narrowly. 'Do you intend to buy every donkey you hear complaining of its lot?'
'I might buy a few more,' she stated, closing her book with slow deliberation and leaning forward to place it on the rattan table in front of her. 'There's plenty of room for more paddocks back there, close to where Rocky is. Nothing's ever been done to that part of the castle grounds. I know because I asked Sula. He said that in all the years he's been head gardener here that part of the grounds has always been wild. It could be used as a sort of animal sanctuary, a haven for ill-treated donkeys and perhaps dogs.'
'Did it not occur to you to seek my permission before embarking on this… er… rescue scheme?' The voice was taut and yet Kim sensed an undercurrent of amused tolerance. There was an indulgent quality about the expression in his eyes, too, despite their narrowed scrutiny.
'I didn't think you'd mind my taking over that waste ground for my new hobby.'
'Hobby? So you're serious about this ridiculous business?'
'It's not a ridiculous business,' she denied hotly. 'It's a human duty to save animals from suffering.'
A sigh of exasperation followed her spirited words before Vidas spoke again, and when he did it was to point out that, not only would the donkey she had bought be replaced by another, but once the news of her activities spread through the local community, every peasant for miles around would start mistreating his donkey in the hope of getting her to buy it.
'Prices will go up and up until you'll be spending every drachma of your allowance buying donkeys—' He broke off and gave a gust of laughter. 'Kim, you're the limit!'
His humour was contagious and Kim found herself laughing too, but there was no weakening of her determination to start an animal sanctuary on the castle grounds.
'You won't object to my using that land, will you?' she asked, and for a long moment her gaze became anxious because, in spite of her resolve, she did have to regard her husband's wishes. He would certainly see to that!
'I suppose not,' he answered at length, an incomprehensible smile curving his lips. 'But do you expect me to supply the materials and labour for all the fencing you are going to need?'
Her lashes fluttered and a winning smile appeared. She saw his eyes narrow but feigned ignorance of his perception as she said, quietly and at her most persuasive, 'If you would provide the labour, Vidas, I'd be very grateful. The fencing won't cost anything because Sula cut trees from the forest for the paddock he and the others made this morning.'
'He and the others?' with a lift of his eyebrows. 'So all my employees have been engaged on the paddock instead of the gardens?'
'Well… er… yes.'
'I'm beginning to think,' said Vidas in strong, decisive tones, 'that there are parts unknown about you that I ought to be investigating.' She said nothing and he added, after a pause, 'What exactly are you trying to do?'
'Do?' she repeated, puzzled by the sudden glint in his eyes. 'Are you vexed with me?' Little did she know just how appealing she lo
oked, how young and artless, as she stood still, staring at him with wide questioning eyes, her mind disturbed by the incomprehensible change in his attitude towards her, the amused tolerance of a few moments ago having given place to an impatience that bordered on anger.
He gave a small sigh and said, 'No, I am not vexed with you.'
She looked at him, musing on what he had been saying these last few minutes, and suddenly her eyes widened. He was fighting against falling in love with her! He had stressed his aversion to becoming emotionally involved with a woman, but despite this, he was now finding her attractive in other ways than the purely physical. There were parts unknown about her, he had said… and he ought to be investigating them… But he had then asked her what she was trying to do. And there had been anger in his voice. Perception dawned again and Kim realised that he suspected her of trying to make him fall in love with her. He believed this concern for animals was part of a plan to reveal certain attractive traits, which, added up, would in the end pierce all his defences. But he was a hard man; he would fight against anything that did not appeal to him… and loving a woman did not appeal to him. He was convinced that emotional entanglement was destructive to a man; with his typical, Greek view of things, he had decided that love did not last, and therefore he considered it futile even to think about it.
But Kim, with her woman's intuition, knew he was thinking about it—oh, not consciously, she felt sure! But he was becoming both angry and bewildered by his feelings for her. Well, she thought with satisfaction, he had given her a weapon she would be a fool not to use. He was vulnerable after all, and it was up to her to make a concerted effort to weaken his defences even more, to the point where the last shred of armour was stripped from him.
Chapter Nine
The following day she wandered along a narrow lane, admiring the gleaming white cubic houses whose gardens smouldered with brilliant colour from hibiscus and oleander, bougainvillaea vines and passion flowers. On every patio there was an assortment of earthenware pots, petrol cans, and other improbable containers all bright with flowers growing in them and tumbling over their sides. In the hedgerows between the houses pomegranate flowers, crimson and gaudy, flaunted their beauty in the sunshine. Mountains soared, dark against the blue, and the gracious castle belonging to Bridie's husband stood gleaming and mellowed on its jutting cliff. All was quiet but for the drone of insects and the distant laughter of children. No crying babies. Kim had never once heard a baby cry since she came to Malindos, and often she had wondered why Greek babies should be more contented than those of her own country. She had mentioned this to Adela once and was told of the great love and affection the Greeks have for their children.
'They'd never be left to cry,' stated Adela, 'and so you never hear them.'
And yet, thought Kim, as the bray of a donkey reached her ears, they cared nothing at all for their animals. It was a case of: it's only a donkey. Why should you worry whether or not a donkey is happy?
Kim wandered on, responding to the occasional 'Kalimera, Kyria Vidas!'
'Kalimera—good morning to you.'
At first she had found it strange that she should be addressed as Mrs. Vidas and had mentioned it to her husband. It was the custom in Greece, he told her, for a woman to be called by her husband's Christian name.
The donkey was troubling her, and although she had decided she could not possibly buy every donkey on the island, she found herself turning into a lane, which led her to where the unfortunate animal was tethered, on a piece of ground quite bare of vegetation. The sun was rising in the heavens; the atmosphere was unbearably hot. The donkey began to paw the ground, sending up a cloud of dust into which its nose descended as he looked for food. She frowned as she went towards it. There was a deep cut on its head which, to her horror, was completely covered with flies. She looked around and noticed a well with a battered pail beside it. The donkey cried pitifully, and she filled the bucket and took it to him, watching as he drank thirstily until there was scarcely a drop left.
'What do you do with my donkey?'
Kim swung round so swiftly that she almost hit the ill-clad, stocky Greek in the chest with the bucket. 'This animal belongs to you?' she said wrathfully.
'It is my donkey, yes. You haf no right to give my water to him! Water is scarce! It not rain for two-three weeks!'
Kim threw down the pail and drew herself up, eyes glinting. 'Have you ever been dying of thirst?' she asked.
He gave the typical shrug of the Greek peasant. It was as much a part of his general makeup as the gold fillings and the worry beads he was twirling at his side.
'I been thirsty—yes.' He paused momentarily, regarding her with a curious expression, 'You on holiday, madam?'
'I'm Mrs. Vidas Christou—'
'You—!' His manner changed, a self-deprecating smile touching his lips. 'You Mrs. Vidas. Welcome to our island! Mr. Vidas, he good to my son who hurt— injured—what you say?—in the sea.'
'Your son's a sponge diver?'
'Once he the best on this island. But one day he caught in the deep current and they bring him up paralysed. Mr. Vidas he give him money every week for his wife and children. Mr. Vidas very good man!'
Her interest fully caught, Kim forgot the donkey for a space as she asked more questions about the sponge divers who were once so numerous on this and the surrounding islands. She learnt that the men would carry a massive boulder to increase their speed of descent to the bottom where, with a long knife, they would slash at the sponges in the urgent knowledge that time was not on their side. They were paid for the sponges by dry weight. Kim learnt that the ships used to go out from the harbour every spring, and there was a ceremony on board when the priests would go around everything with the holy water, murmuring blessings all the time, while the whole community gathered on the waterfront to pray for the safety of the men they would not see again for the next five months. The coast of Africa was one of the most lucrative fishing grounds, but many men had come home from there crippled for life.
'And now there are not many sponge divers?' she asked, when the man stopped speaking.
'Not many, but those who still go, they haf this new things—what you call equip—equip… ?'
'Equipment,' supplied Kim, her eyes wandering to the donkey, now braying again and pawing the ground.
'Yes, that is it. But they haf no courage—bah! The old way was good!'
'It couldn't have been,' argued Kim shortly. 'The men's lives were in danger the whole time they were in the water.'
The man said nothing and Kim turned to look at the gash on the donkey's head.
'How did that happen?' she demanded, her manner changing to one of sternness again.
'I hit him to make him go,' answered the man casually. 'He very stubborn, that cretur! He haf a will of his own that I shall break!'
'Does it occur to you that the donkey might respond to kindness?'
'Respond?' with a wrinkling of his low forehead. 'What is this respond?'
She gave a sigh of asperity and determined to take lessons in Greek. 'How much do you want… er… what is your name?' '
'Elias, I haf other name—'
'Elias, will you sell me your donkey?'
'You want to buy Mitso?' He looked at her as if suspecting her of making some sort of a joke. 'You not want Mitso—'
'How much?' she cut in, shuddering at the idea of all those flies sucking the unfortunate animal's blood. 'I do want to buy your donkey. How much?'
'But—'
'Elias,' she said impatiently, 'how much do you want for Mitso?'
'Is it Mr. Vidas who wants him?' The man still seemed as if he suspected Kim of pulling his leg, this despite the frowning countenance she turned upon him.
'No…' She allowed her voice to trail away to silence as an idea occurred to her. If this man thought Vidas wanted the donkey, then undoubtedly he would let him have it at a fair price. 'Yes, as a matter of fact it is my husband who wants to buy your donkey.'
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br /> 'But why?'
'He… er…' Kim racked her brain. 'He's collecting them,' she said, producing a smile.
The man's black eyes widened to their fullest extent. 'Collecting donkeys?' Elias shook his head. 'You—what they say?—you take me for—for fool and laugh at me.'
Kim drew an exasperated breath. 'How much will you sell Mitso for?' she persisted. 'My husband really does want to buy him.'
The man stood there, nonplussed, as well he might be, faced with a situation that made him wonder if he were dreaming. But at last he spoke, stating a price which, compared with what she had paid for Rocky, was reasonable.
'Bring him up to the castle at once and you will be paid,' she said, and walked swiftly away before Elias could ask any more questions.
Two hours later she was cleaning the wound while Sula held the animal's head and repeatedly exchanged glances with Kimon, one of the other gardeners who stood by, glances that plainly said that their new mistress was more than a little mad.
'The ointment, Sula,' she said, and he stepped forward to hand her the jar. 'You say there is not a veterinary surgeon on this island?' She looked at him as she took the jar and unscrewed the lid.
'No, Madam Vidas, we have no animal doctor here.'
'What happens when an animal is ill?'
'We send to Rhodes for animal doctor.'
'The animal might die because of the delay.'
Sula shrugged his shoulders and said, 'It is only an animal, madam.'
'You all need to learn some lessons!' she snapped, digging her finger into the jar. She applied the ointment thickly, as much as a barrier against the flies as a healing balm to the actual wound itself. 'Now, put him in with Rocky and then set about making another paddock—a very large one this time!'
'So you've bought another one already.' It was several hours later that Vidas made the observation, coming upon Kim when, having phoned Bridie, she had just replaced the receiver on its rest.
'You've seen Mitso? Did you notice the dreadful cut on his head?'