Strange Adventure

by Craven, Sara

  `But there must be girls of your own age on the island. Aren't there any families in the village with daughters?' Lacey asked.

  Helen nodded, an impish grin lifting the corners of her mouth. 'But they're all too busy learning to be good little wives to have fun. Any swimming that goes on is a strictly masculine affair. Besides,' she shot an oblique glance at Aunt Sofia, 'I like to do my swimming in the raw.'

  Lacey felt her lips tighten in annoyance. Helen seemed to go out of her way to say and do things that would distress and disturb the older woman.

  `In that case,' she tried to speak lightly, 'it's probably just as well that the bathing isn't mixed.'

  After all, she thought, this was one of the main reasons for her being here, to try and win Helen over and give her some sort of companionship. She would not achieve this by

  joining Aunt Sofia in overt disapproval of the girl's every action.

  She had done a lot of hard thinking alone in her room during the long afternoon hours after that first passionate outburst of misery had abated. Her first plan had been flight at any cost, but sane consideration had convinced her that this course of action was impossible. Catching the ferry to Corfu would be easy enough, but once there her plans fell to pieces. The fact was she had very little actual cash at her disposal and no means of obtaining any more. It was hardly likely that Aunt Sofia would be inclined to finance her precipitate departure, she thought, her lips twisting slightly.

  It seemed she was obliged to remain, at least for a while, and she was prepared to abide by the terms of the contract that had brought her to Theros. It had been a business arrangement, after all. Troy Andreakis had never pretended that he was stirred by an emotion deeper than the normal desire a virile man might feel for an attractive girl. The fact that his indifference and betrayal had wounded her so deeply would remain her secret and she would conduct their relationship on the level of the sterile bargain it was and always had been.

  She would learn from Aunt Sofia how to run the villa and manage the servants; she would try and win Helen over to at least an outward show of conventional behaviour. As for the rest of the bargain—she swallowed convulsively —he had the proof of her innocence which he had demanded. He could expect no more. She would not share his bed or his attentions.

  She made herself smile at Helen, concealing the anguished turmoil that possessed her.

  `I'm sorry you think Theros is such a drag. I was rather hoping you might show me around—the village, the beaches.'

  `Mm.' For a moment Lacey thought she saw someone much older peep at her from behind Helen's long lashes. `Maybe that's not such a bad idea, and at least we'll both get a pat on the head from Brother Troy when he finally shows up.' And with a smile that Lacey found hard to de-

  cipher, she began to serve herself from a bowl of previously rejected fresh fruit salad.

  The next few days passed quietly. Lacey familiarised herself with the villa's layout and ventured into the kitchen regions to meet Maria, the genius who presided over the cooking stove. She had wondered if any of the servants would resent a new mistress being suddenly pushed on to them, but the opposite seemed the case, and Aunt Sofia made it more than clear that she was happy to resign the housekeeping reins into Lacey's hands whenever she wished. She learned that much of the produce used by the house was grown on the Andreakis estate itself, and sampled the island wine, richly red and rather too sweet for her taste.

  The villa itself she found a delightful place with its big low-ceilinged rooms, and the wide terrace which ran the full length of the house. The big entrance hall and passages were coolly tiled, but most of the main rooms had elegantly blocked parquet floors only partly covered by thick goatskin rugs. The interior walls were washed in pastel colours, blues and yellows predominating, and local, heavily textured fabrics had been used extensively for upholstery and curtaining. It was beautiful, Lacey thought, but at the same time it was a family home, not a showpiece. She tried to say as much to Aunt Sofia, who nodded and smiled approvingly.

  `But above all it is a house for children, pethi mou,' she declared to Lacey's embarrassment, her eyes sweeping the slender figure of her new niece with a trace of regret, as if she expected her to be pregnant already. 'There are many rooms which can become nurseries when the time comes.'

  It was a curiously appealing picture and Lacey felt a pang as she firmly shut it out of her mind. Providing occupants for potential nurseries did not come within the terms of the bargain with Troy Andreakis, she told herself bleakly.

  The afternoons she spent mainly with Helen. Sometimes they lay on the terrace, while Lacey acclimatised herself to the strong sun, at others they played tennis on the sheltered court that occupied one corner of the garden.

  She had been on Theros almost a week before she sub-

  mitted to her sister-in-law's promptings and set out to walk to the village.

  The road was longer and dustier than Lacey had envisaged, but Helen assured her emphatically that most of the villagers were pedestrians. No one used a car on Theros, she declared, and donkeys were the most usual form of transport.

  `Has no one ever thought of improving the roads?' Lacey asked ruefully, detaching a pebble from inside her sandal.

  `If so, they've rapidly thought again. I guess the islanders think they're O.K. the way they are,' Helen said breezily. 'Besides, better roads mean more tourists and hotels and gas stations—the whole bit. I don't think Theros could take that.'

  'I'm surprised to hear you say that.' Lacey gave her an ironic look. 'I thought you wanted the island to be made livelier.'

  `Don't fool yourself, sister dear. I want out.' Helen scuffed her feet moodily as she walked along. 'Aunt Dora would have me back, I know. If only Troy would say the word.'

  `Do you think that's likely?'

  Helen shrugged. 'People do change their minds,' she replied vaguely.

  But not Troy, Lacey thought bitterly, the humiliating recollection of how she had begged him to let her remain with him after he had made love to her fiercely in her mind.

  The village, she found, was unexpectedly modern in its appearance with attractive, spotlessly whitewashed houses in an easy sprawl around the small harbour with its bobbing caiques. When she commented on this newness to Helen, she learned that much of the village had been destroyed in the earthquake which had swept the area in the early fifties, and that the villagers had patiently rebuilt their homes on the same site, showing, Lacey decided wryly, a touching faith that the Earthshaker would not strike again in the same place.

  Although it was relatively early in the day, the harbour side was alive with activity and the small tavernas dotted along its length were busy with custom.

  Helen pointed to a large boat heading out to sea. `The ferry's just left—today's high-spot,' she said.

  Lacey found the brief circuit of the harbour something of an ordeal. She soon realised that as the new-made wife of the richest and most influential man in the area she was the target for all the local eyes. Helen, of course, seemed perfectly at home in the village and at her prompting Lacey began to respond with diminishing shyness to the greetings which came their way. As they strolled along, Helen nudged her.

  `We're coming to Niko's place,' she said in an undertone. `He's Spiro's brother—the guy that does the gardens at the villa—so I guess Troy would like us to stop and say hello at least.'

  But as they approached it was obvious that the news of their arrival had preceded them. Niko, large and benignly smiling, was already dusting off the chairs outside the taverna and his wife Melina was waiting with a tray of freshly crushed fruit juice. It was impossible to refuse this friendly hospitality, even though Lacey soon found she had exhausted her few words of Greek and had to rely on Helen to act as interpreter for her thanks for the couple's good wishes.

  It was a delightful relaxation, she found, to sit in the sunshine looking out over the sea and the faint gauzy haze which seemed to shimmer above it. The air was full of scents, and the
sounds of voices and laughter, interspersed with the cooing of doves from a dozen alleys opening off the street along the harbour and the occasional bleating of a goat. Lacey half-closed her eyes, feeling ,a sudden peace insidiously invading her being, and then sat up, nearly spilling her drink with a nervous jerk as Helen exclaimed joyously, `Evan! Well, what do you know?'

  He was a tall, brown-haired young man, the lower part of his face hidden under a beard. He wore rather tattered shorts, and a safari jacket hung over his bare chest revealing a varied selection of chains and medallions. A professional-looking camera was slung round his neck and a large camera case hung from his shoulder. He was grinning at Helen.

  'I thought you said this place didn't exist,' he accused, and hitched forward another chair, before turning with rather studied politeness to Lacey. 'Er—you don't mind?'

  Lacey felt she could do little but allow him to join them. He and Helen were obviously well acquainted and she wondered with alarm whether Evan Kent, as Helen rather triumphantly introduced him to her, had anything to do with the commune which had been the cause of Helen's removal from her aunt's sphere of influence in California.

  Troy would hardly be pleased, she thought, if Helen's hippy friends began arriving on Theros for a grand reunion, and she felt rather helpless and inadequate when she considered her ability to cope with such an eventuality.

  But Evan, she soon gathered from the conversation, was far from being a hippy or a beachcomber as his appearance suggested. In fact, he was a professional photographer employed by a leading American magazine.

  'You're on holiday, Mr Kent?' she asked on one of the few occasions when Helen paused for a breath.

  'You could call it that.' He paused. 'I do have—an assignment of sorts, but it may not work out.'

  Lacey immediately felt uneasy. She hoped that this assignment was not connected with Troy in any way. He had never made any secret of his loathing of personal publicity, and the fact that Evan Kent was a friend of Helen's would not influence him in his favour, rather the contrary, she thought unhappily. But this was surely one problem that she could not be expected to deal with unaided.

  `Where are you staying?' Helen inquired. 'We don't run to the Hilton here, but I guess Niko could find you a room. How long do you plan to be around?'

  Evan Kent's shrug was negligent. 'A few days, or as long as it takes.' He studied the glass of ouzo Melina had brought him through slightly narrowed eyes. 'Is Big Brother in residence?'

  `Not at the moment,' Helen said lightly. 'But he shouldn't be away for very long. After all, this is supposed to be his honeymoon.'

  Evan Kent turned and gave Lacey a long, deliberate look. 'In his shoes, I don't think I'd ever have left,' he drawled,

  and she felt the colour flame in her cheeks. She reached rather clumsily for her bag and got up, murmuring something confused to Helen about the need to return to the villa. She expected an argument, but Helen was unreservedly co-operative. She chatted casually about the village and the toll the earthquake had taken on the way back to the villa, and they were nearly at the house before she said almost idly, 'Could Evan come to dinner one night, do you suppose, Lacey?'

  Lacey hesitated, but reason suggested strongly that she should agree. After all, there could be little harm in this young man spending an evening at the villa with Aunt Sofia as chaperone, and if she refused Helen could well take matters into her own hands by meeting him in the village and causing more gossip.

  'I don't see why not,' she said slowly. 'Have you known him long?'

  `Oh, for ever,' Helen replied largely. 'His brother and I were in high school together. The only thing is,' she gave Lacey a sideways glance, 'I wouldn't tell Aunt Sofia he works for a magazine. I mean, she might get all uptight about it and tell Troy, and what he doesn't know won't hurt him.'

  Lacey was conscious of that strangely troubled feeling again, but Helen's gaze seemed candid enough. 'I suppose it will be all right,' she acknowledged with a faint sigh. 'But perhaps you'll make it clear that no pictures or stories are to be done about the villa.'

  `No problem,' Helen assured her, a satisfied smile playing about her lips.

  When Evan did arrive at the villa for dinner a few nights later, Lacey was relieved to find him rather more conventionally dressed in dark slacks and a silk shirt and even Aunt Sofia seemed to find him acceptable. No word of his controversial profession passed his lips, and he talked knowledgeably of other Greek islands he had visited in the Aegean Sea and the difference he had found between the landscapes and temperaments of the people in the Aegean and the Ionian areas. Lacey found herself warming to him. She had known few young men apart from Alan, and she

  told herself it was just a general unhappiness about her situation that had caused her initial uneasiness about him. He didn't embarrass her by any further references to her honeymoon, and he treated Aunt Sofia with a charming deference. His behaviour to Helen was affectionate in a casual, fraternal manner and Lacey found she was dismissing her fears that they might have been involved in a closer relationship in California.

  Moreover, his visit proved a welcome break in the quiet routine of her life on Theros. She was trying to concentrate all her interest on the villa and its gardens and learning about the vines and olive groves which gave the island its main exports, anything in fact that would divert her attention from her husband and the confrontation that sooner or later would come between them. She still had no idea when to expect him. The 'complications' he had referred to in England must be proving even more absorbing than he had expected, she thought, fanning her smouldering anger into a blaze again as she visualised him with Michelle. In some ways she wished she had never found the broken cuff link and realised its significance. She might have been living in a fool's paradise, but wasn't that better than the hell in which she now found herself?

  She was glad to escape from her unhappy thoughts in the hilarious game of Scrabble that followed dinner, and later, as she said goodbye to Evan, she realised she had enjoyed the evening more than she would have thought possible.

  As the days lengthened into her second, and then-her third week on Theros, Evan became a regular visitor at the villa. The midday meal developed into a picnic, usually in one of the rocky coves below the villa where they swam and lay on the rocks, soaking up the sun like lizards. Lacey's skin was beginning to acquire a smooth honey-coloured tan and her too-slender curves were becoming more rounded, thanks to Maria's declared intention of feeding the Kyria up on the somewhat specious grounds that a skinny woman was no good to a man.

  Judging by the appreciative gleam she had seen in Evan's eyes a few times as he looked at her, Lacey thought wryly

  that Maria might have a point. Occasionally she found herself wondering how Troy would react if he returned unexpectedly, but she told herself defiantly that his own conduct gave him no grounds for complaint. Besides, and she had to face the fact, although she liked Evan, was amused by him, and looked forward to his visits, her feelings went no deeper than that. She did not want him as a lover. If her body ached with longing and loneliness as she lay unsleeping in the big bed at night, she was only too aware that only one man could satisfy her need. It seemed that brief time of darkness with Troy had spoiled her for other men, she thought drearily. But however much she might want him, and there were times, when she was tormented by desire, she vowed to herself that she would never allow him to possess her again. She would not share him with Michelle.

  At the same time, she found his total silence unnerving. Perhaps he had been angered by her failure to send him a message by Stephanos, she thought bleakly. But, as his wife, she felt she was at least entitled to some advance warning of his plans, and she knew that Aunt Sofia thought it was strange that there were never any letters or telephone calls for her. Just fresh evidence of his indifference to her, she told herself, but this confirmation of the barrenness of their relationship gave her no satisfaction.

  It did not occur to her that Aunt Sofia's concern might
be extended to other areas until Miss Andreakis tackled her one morning as she was about to join Helen and Evan on the terrace where Spiro had set up an old table tennis table he had found in one of the basements.

  'Is it wise to see so much of this young man, pethi mou?' Aunt Sofia's dark eyes were full of real anxiety as she looked at her. Lacey smiled at her confidently.

  `Oh, you don't have to worry,' she said. 'He's much too old for Helen anyway. She told him yesterday that he was a drag because he said the water was too shallow to dive from the rocks. And I'm keeping a close eye on them.'

  `And who is keeping an eye on you?' Aunt Sofia asked carefully.

  Lacey stared at her as the older woman went on, 'You

  are no longer a free agent, Lacey. You are a wife, and whatever is the custom in your own country, here on Theros the women do not seek the company of men other than their husbands.'

  `And what about the men?' Lacey asked tonelessly. `Do they never seek the company of women other than their wives?'

  Aunt Sofia flushed slightly. 'It is not always a man's nature to be faithful for the whole of his life.'

  No?' Lacey asked drily. 'And when does the normal straying period commence? A week after marriage—a month, a year?'

  She saw she was distressing Aunt Sofia and bit her lip.

  'I'm sorry, but this—double standard for men and women irritates me. But you really have no need to worry. Evan is Helen's friend and I have no intention of being unfaithful with him or anyone else. Besides,' she chose her words with care, 'Troy has spent a lot of time in Britain and the States. He should have a slightly more liberal attitude.'

  `Oh, no doubt he has—for other people, pethi mou.' Aunt Sofia's tone was dry in turn. 'Whether he is prepared to be so—liberal where his own wife is concerned remains to be seen.'

  As she went to join the others, Lacey told herself vehemently that Aunt Sofia was simply making mountains out of molehills. There was nothing in her relationship with Evan that could cause even the most jealous husband a minute's anxiety. All the older woman's warning had done was make her more conscious of him and introduced an awkwardness into the casual camaraderie that had existed up to now.