Icon of Gold

by Teresa Crane

‘But I insist, koukla mou. Tomorrow you go shopping again — for yourself. Tomorrow night we go to the theatre. Then we meet the boys for supper at the Savoy. I want you to buy yourself a dress. And shoes. And anything else you want. It is my Christmas gift to you. Buy something extravagant. Spend what you wish. Not to walk the dogs on your wild and windy beach but to visit the theatre with your husband, and to have dinner with your two handsome boys.’

  Cathy sat up, hugging her knees, contemplating the not unattractive thought. ‘It’s a terrible waste of money,’ she ventured.

  Leon shook his head. ‘No. I told you; it is my gift to you. And if you never wear it again it still will not be wasted.’ He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her head to study her face. ‘Will you do as I ask?’

  She opened slanted, innocent eyes. ‘Don’t I always?’

  He shouted with laughter at that. She watched him, smiling, held out a hand. ‘Yes, I’ll do as you ask. It’ll be a terrible strain, but I expect I can face it. Dragging round the shops and spending money on myself! Honestly — the things you ask a girl to do!’ The mockery was gentle.

  He opened her hand, kissed the palm.

  Light-heartedly she blew the kiss back to him. ‘Come on. I’ll let you buy me dinner. I’m starving.’

  *

  Twenty-four hours later she surveyed herself in the mirror in mild, not to say comic, astonishment. ‘Good God. Poor Sandy would have a fit if he could see me now. He’d run a mile.’

  ‘You look wonderful.’ Leon came up behind her, smiling.

  ‘It’ll look very neat with my Wellingtons, don’t you think?’

  ‘It’s a great shame you don’t have them with you,’ he agreed, straightfaced.

  She turned and laid her arms lightly about his neck. ‘I’m glad you like it.’

  ‘It’s perfect.’

  The dress was of taffeta, with a scooped off-the-shoulder neckline, a slender, belted waist and a flaring calf-length skirt. It was the colour of a peacock’s tail, glinting blue and green as she moved. ‘I feel dreadfully guilty. It really was extortionately expensive.’

  Leon picked up the matching stole from the bed and placed it around her shoulders. ‘For tonight there is no such thing as expensive. Tonight we enjoy ourselves.’ He adjusted his black tie and brushed the lapels of his dinner jacket. She regarded him approvingly. ‘You look pretty damned smart yourself.’

  Smiling broadly he held out a crooked arm. She laid her fingers lightly on it. ‘Cinderella, off to the ball.‘

  ‘With her handsome prince.’

  She sketched a laughing curtsey. ‘But of course.’

  Cathy enjoyed every moment in the theatre, from the hum of excitement that died to quiet expectancy as the curtain rose, through the intrigues of the cleverly plotted play that was proving to be so popular, to the denouement that sent people out into the foggy streets discussing it still. The Savoy was thronged with after-theatre diners and drinkers. Leon steered her through the crowd to where Nikos and Adam and a quite stunningly attractive young woman awaited them at a reserved table, upon which already stood an ice-bucket containing an almost empty bottle of Champagne. The two boys rose to greet them. The girl, dressed in a strapless affair of rustling black taffeta with a huge, bouffant skirt, matching elbow—length gloves and earrings that swung and glittered as she moved, sat demurely, batting long, interested eyelashes at Leon as they were introduced. Cathy suppressed an amused smile. Even without trying Leon did have the most dramatic effect upon young women. Adam put a casually possessive hand on the girl’s bare shoulder. ‘This is Dorothy. Dot, meet Cathy and Leon.’

  Wide blue eyes flickered to Cathy, then fixed firmly on Leon. ‘Lovely to meet you.’ A breathy, little-girl voice. The eyelashes were working again. This time Cathy did grin as she offered her cheek for her son’s kiss.

  Adam, holding her by the shoulders, put her from him and looked at her in what could only be described as uncomplimentary astonishment. ‘You look great. What happened to the duffel coat?’

  ‘I checked it in at the cloakroom. I didn’t want to appear overdressed. Don’t look so damned surprised,’ she added with mild asperity, ‘I may be your mother but I’m not quite ready for the bathchair yet.’ She settled herself, rustling satisfactorily, between the two young men, smiled at Nikos. ‘Nikos. How are you?‘

  ‘I’m well. Thank you.’ Nikos, too, was looking at her with bright and flatteringly appreciative eyes. ‘You do look —‘ he hesitated, ‘— wonderful,’ he said.

  ‘Make the most of it.’ She leaned to him, lowering her voice, ‘I turn into a pumpkin at midnight.’

  Nikos had drunk at least half of a large bottle of heady Champagne rather too quickly. ‘Not before you dance with me, I hope,’ he said, equally quietly.

  To her own astonishment she felt her cheeks warm a little. ‘Of course. If you’d like.’

  Leon had sat beside Dorothy, his arm across the back of her chair. ‘More Champagne,’ he said, ‘and then we eat.’ He smiled expansively around the table. ‘Tonight is a celebration.’

  ‘What are we celebrating?’ There went the eyelashes again, and the little, breathy voice. Adam winked at Cathy.

  Leon patted the black-gloved arm. ‘Don’t worry, my dear,’ he said, heavily playful. ‘We’ll think of something.’

  *

  It was a long time since Cathy had spent such a diverting evening. True to form Leon flirted outrageously with Dorothy, who, pouting and giggling and using the eyelashes to good effect, appeared to swallow the performance whole and without the benefit of salt. Where, Cathy found herself wondering, did Adam find them? Adam himself, far from being put out, appeared to enjoy the pantomime hugely. He was in high spirits and on very good form, entertaining his companions with caustic and Cathy could only assume well-informed gossip about their fellow diners, many of whom he appeared to know well. Nikos, meanwhile, danced attendance on his stepmother in a way that both amused and flattered her. The food was excellent, the surroundings splendid. She had been to this most famous of hotels once before, with Danny, but that had been during the war and the time of the ‘five shilling menu’, when shortages and rationing had restricted the fare, air raid precaution had marred the lovely interiors and the elegance of evening dress had been exchanged for military uniform. Now, at last, after the years of austerity that had followed the war, restored and renovated the place was its dazzling self again, a glamorous magnet for the rich and the famous and for those who aspired to riches and fame. She caught Leon’s eye. He raised his glass and toasted her wordlessly. A dapper young man had stepped to the microphone. The dance band swung into a nostalgic 19305 medley. Dorothy was tapping her foot. ‘I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places —’

  ‘I want to dance.’ Dorothy was looking not at Adam but at Leon.

  Adam took her hand, shook his curly head, laughing. ‘Don’t be daft. Leon’s a Greek. He only dances with plates and hankies. Come on, Dotty my love. You’ll have to make do with me.’ He drew her on to the floor and they slipped easily in amongst the other dancers; as handsome a pair, Cathy thought, not without pride, as any there.

  ‘Would you care to dance?’ It was Nikos, quietly, beside her. He looked at his father. ‘Would you mind?’

  Leon waved a large, beringed hand expansively. ‘Of course not. Enjoy yourselves. That’s what we’re here for.’ His eyes moved to a table not far from theirs. ‘I’ve seen a man I need to talk to. Go dance. Have fun.’

  Nikos took her hand to lead her to the floor. His fingers were cool, and for a surprised moment she fancied that they trembled a little in hers. He danced well, smoothly and with style. She relaxed to the rhythm of his movements, following his lead, allowing herself simply to slip into a music- and Champagne-induced trance of enjoyment. They did not speak. The tune changed; the singer, she thought, dreamily, really was very good indeed. Seductive. That was the word. ‘Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you —’ Nikos’ arm tightened a little about her as he led he
r into a graceful series of turns. She closed her eyes, smiling, opened them again to find him looking down at her, watching her intently, his unusual eyes reflecting the sparkling light from the candles on the tables that surrounded the ‘floor. He pulled her to him, suddenly and fiercely, rested his cheek lightly on the top of her head. This time there could be no mistaking his trembling. It communicated itself through his body and through the grip of his hand.

  The last note died. The music stopped. There was a ripple of applause; people started to walk from the floor. As Cathy started to move Nikos caught her hand. ‘Please,’ he said, ‘one more?’

  She hesitated.

  ‘Please.’

  The band had swung into a quickstep. Cathy could see Leon standing at a table nearby, talking to a man she did not know. Catching her eye he smiled, lifted a hand, then turned back to his conversation.

  ‘Cathy, please?’ Nikos’ voice was soft. Adam and Dorothy were still on the floor. Adam grinned at her as they swung expertly past.

  She put her hand on Nikos’ shoulder, felt his arm about her once more, and again they danced, gracefully, in perfect step and in silence.

  When they got back to the table Leon was still deeply engrossed in his conversation, and Adam and Dorothy were executing a flamboyant tango on the dance floor. Nikos held the chair for her, then sat beside her, picking up his glass of wine, his eyes on the dancers. ‘How’s Sandy?’ he asked, unexpectedly.

  She smiled. ‘Naughty as ever.’

  ‘And the cottage?’

  The smile widened. ‘Untidy as ever.’

  The slight, odd tension that had held him relaxed. He looked at her, returning her smile. ‘And Bert?’ he asked, pulling a ruefully comic face.

  She laughed outright. ‘As cantankerous as ever.’

  He leaned forward on his elbows, cupping his glass in two hands, his face thoughtful. ‘It’s funny. I think about it a lot. Sandlings — the sea — those windy, deserted beaches —’

  ‘And the sky,’ she said. ‘Don’t forget the sky.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘So —’ she turned her head to look at him, ‘— what’s so strange that you should think about it?’

  He shrugged a little. ‘To be frank — I was appalled when I first arrived. I’m a city boy, pure and simple. Remember, I’ve lived in New York for almost ten years. You could say I grew up there. The thought of living somewhere like you do wouldn’t have appealed to me at all.’

  She was watching him with real curiosity in her eyes. ‘And now?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. It’s just that, sometimes, in a busy street or a crowded tube I suddenly find myself thinking, that’s all.’

  ‘Of the space, and the peace, and the quiet?’

  He hesitated only fractionally. ‘Yes. I guess so.’

  She laughed. ‘But not of the inconvenience, the draughts, of bathing in the kitchen and the fact that if the wind gets up above a brisk breeze the newly installed electricity gives up and uninstalls itself.’

  He laughed with her. ‘No.’

  The tango had come to a passionate and triumphant conclusion. Talking and laughing, people were returning to their tables. Leon had finished his conversation and was weaving his way back towards them. ‘You must come down for the weekend,’ she said, impulsively. ‘Let me show you the area properly. There are so many beautiful, wild places. There are wetlands and woodlands and some lovely villages. My favourite is a place called Dunwich. You won’t believe when you see it — it’s tiny now, just a little coastal village — but in the Middle Ages it was a thriving port. The whole city has been taken by the sea — I’ve a map at the cottage —’

  ‘Oh, Lord!’ said Adam’s voice from behind her. ‘Do I hear Cathy cantering off on her favourite hobby horse?’

  Smiling, Cathy put up a hand to cover his, that he had laid lightly on her shoulder. ‘Don’t be rude, darling. People will think your mother didn’t teach you any manners.‘

  ‘May I?’ Nikos asked.

  She glanced at him, surprised by an odd note of urgency in his voice. ‘Of course.’ Still holding Adam’s hand she laid her other hand on Nikos’. ‘It’s your home. You’re welcome any time.’

  ‘Speaking of which —’ Adam slid into the chair next to his mother, reaching for the wine bottle and speaking across her to Nikos. ‘How’s the new flat?’

  Cathy turned her head. ‘You’ve found a flat?’

  ‘Yes. Well, that is, it isn’t exactly mine. An American friend offered for me to use it while he’s out of town for a few months, while I look for a place of my own. It was a real stroke of luck, actually. It’s a pretty smart place.‘

  ‘Where is it?’ Cathy smiled a greeting as Leon rejoined them.

  ‘In Kensington. Prince’s Street. Very near the Albert Hall.’

  That caught her attention. ‘Lucky you! My only complaint as a country bumpkin is that I rarely get a chance to go to a concert or the opera.’

  ‘Move to London,’ Leon said, promptly. ‘We’ll buy a flat. You can listen to Mozart and — what’s-his-name? — the man Mahler — every night. And twice on Sundays.’

  Cathy laughed. ‘And walk Sandy round the Serpentine? I don’t think either of us would much enjoy that.’

  Leon shrugged good-humouredly.

  ‘You like Mahler?’ Nikos asked, seriously.

  Adam groaned. ‘Oh, Lord! Nikos, be a good chap, don’t get her started! Dunwich is bad enough.’

  ‘It’s just —’ Nikos hesitated.

  Cathy accepted a glass of wine. ‘What?’

  ‘They’re playing Mahler at the Hall the night after next. The Sixth — I saw the posters.’

  ‘Tragic!’ said Adam, and snorted with laughter at his own laboured witticism. Dorothy looked at him in undisguised puzzlement, which only made him laugh more.

  Cathy nudged his foot under the table. ‘Adam! Behave yourself!’

  ‘Yes, Ma.’

  ‘I wondered —’ Nikos looked around the table, ‘I could perhaps get us all tickets? You could come back to the flat for supper afterwards.’

  Dorothy looked vaguely alarmed. Adam raised wry eyebrows. Leon shook his head, smiling. ‘Ah, no, my boy. Not even for you. Take Kati. A good idea. Take Kati and I will treat you to supper afterwards.’

  Nikos looked at Cathy. She shook her head. ‘Nikos, I’m sorry — it’s a lovely idea, and thank you. But I’m going home tomorrow.’

  ‘Stay another couple of days.‘ It was Leon, easily. ‘Why the rush? You fly up here, fly round and then fly back like a frightened little bird! Seriously —— why not stay? Your precious sandlings won’t disappear while you’re away. Your precious cottage won’t fall down —’

  ‘It might,’ she said.

  ‘- your ill-behaved Sandy is keeping the equally ill-behaved Bert company. Stay. Visit a museum. Go to the Tate and look at the pictures.’ He spread his hands. ‘You like such things. Then, on Thursday night Nikos will escort you to the concert, which you will both enjoy the more for not having Philistines like us around.’ His bright, dark eyes took in Adam and the openly relieved Dorothy. ‘1 will then take you both for supper and on Friday you will take the train back to your —’ he paused for effect ‘- country retreat, having in the meantime pleased me, yourself and Nikos. An early Christmas treat. And a chance to see that there are at least some advantages to living in London.’

  ‘Don’t be sly, Leon,’ Cathy said. ‘It doesn’t become you.’

  He laughed. ‘Tell me, though. Doesn’t that sound agreeable?’

  ‘It sounds wonderful.’ Cathy herself only half understood her own reluctance. ‘But —’

  ‘Please?’ Nikos said, softly.

  ‘But nothing.’ Leon folded his arms. ‘Is settled. Adam — tell me again the name of the man you spoke to last week who seemed interested in the Athens project?’

  As they spoke Nikos leaned to her. ‘I’m sorry. If you really don’t want to come on Thursday, please say so. Don’t f
eel you must.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so silly. Of course I want to come. As Adam pointed out, I’m a Mahler bore.’

  ‘He was a brilliant man. A wonderful conductor, and a powerful composer. My grandmother —’ he stopped, blinked a little.

  ‘What?’ She was gentle. There was a sudden gale of laughter as Leon spoke and Adam replied smartly.

  ‘She met him. When he was chief conductor at the Met. She was devoted to him, and to his music.’

  ‘Your grandmother was fond of music?’

  His face lit to a sudden, dazzling smile. ‘She lived it. Breathed it. She was a very accomplished pianist.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  The dark lashes lifted, the disconcerting golden eyes met hers. ‘You’ll come? Please?’ The lids dropped again, long, dark-skinned fingers toyed with his napkin. ‘To be honest — it’s stupid I know — but it’s the first time I’ve been able to think about facing Mahler since —’

  ‘I’ll come. Of course I’ll come.’

  The unguarded delight in his face was a reward in itself.

  ‘So —’ Leon leaned across the table. ‘Kati. You stay?’

  ‘I’ll stay,’ she said. ‘Just for another couple of days.’

  ‘What I don’t think I know,’ Dorothy said, enunciating rather over—carefully, ‘is exactly what we’ve been celebrating?’

  Adam winked at his mother. ‘Not having to go to a Mahler concert,’ he said, gravely. ‘That’s enough for anyone to celebrate.’

  *

  The night of the concert was foggy, the streets and alleys of the city enveloped in a choking, soot—laden smog that muffled sound and bemused the senses. Cathy and Nikos met in the foyer, Cathy a little flustered, ‘I’m sorry I’m late. Stupidly I came by taxi — it took for ever to get here! It would have been much quicker by tube.’

  Nikos, who had been waiting a full half hour, shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve only just got here myself as a matter of fact. The whole of London seems to have come to a standstill. Let me take your coat.’