The Tower of the Winds, Page 2

  shouldn't have gone after her,' she said aloud. 'Why couldn't he have left her alone?'

  'She was his wife. He had every right to make her return to him.'

  Charity took refuge in anger. 'I don't believe you!' she cried out. 'Faith was afraid of him! She wrote and told me so!'

  His disapproval cut like a knife through her misery, making her blink. 'She was leaving him!' she declared, but his disapproval only grew stronger and she sought for another weapon to fling at him, to prove that something of her sister lived on in her, that she had not been quenched for all time by the physical fact of her death. 'Where is the baby?' she demanded. 'I'll take him back to England with me!'

  'I am afraid not,' Nikos' brother said curtly. 'Alexandras is my responsibility. He is my brother's son and shall be brought up as such.'

  'Oh no!' Charity clenched her fists, preparing to do battle. Fighting in her sister's cause was very much better than tears. She did not want this man, who looked like Apollo, to know how alone and bereft she was.

  'I am not prepared to argue the matter with you,' he said coldly. 'It is already decided?

  Charity did not often lose her temper, but when she did so she did it thoroughly, without any thought as to the consequences. Now it proved a marvellous relief to the tight knot of agony inside her. She glared up at him, tilting her chin forward to show her determination.

  'Then you can undecide it! He is my sister's son and shewants him brought up in England, and I intend to do just that! Where is he? I want to see him now, at once!'

  'That is impossible!'

  'Only because you choose to make it so! I have my sister's letter and I intend to act on her instructions - and it will take more than you to stop me!'

  He gave her a brilliant look that passed her by. 'Are you threatening me?' he drawled. 'Yes, I am!'

  'I see. I suppose you know you haven't got a leg to stand on?'

  'I'm a blood relation! And I can prove that my sister wanted me to have her baby!'

  His snort of contempt did litde to lessen her anger. 'What good is that going to do you? His father wished the contrary. The boy is Greek!'

  'But Faith was his mother!' She swallowed her growing dismay. 'I'll - I'll take you to court if you insist on keeping him!'

  His silence was far more distressing to her than anything he could have said. Far from reflecting her own anger, he looked faintly amused and very, very sure of himself.

  'You don't think it will do any good?' she hazarded.

  He shook his head. 'The boy is Greek. His father's wishes must prevail, even in the courts - even in England, I think. Your sister was Nikos' wife, the woman of his house, but she had no right to take the child away from his father.'

  The woman of his house!What a term to use in connection with Faith, who had always relished her freedom and her independence of others. No wonder she had come to hate Greece!

  'But what am I to do? She trusted me to do something!'

  Loukos Papandreous stood up. 'It is hard for you just now, but how would it be to start your own marriage with your sister's baby in the house? It is better for you too that the child should stay with me.'

  Charity fingered Faith's letter in her pocket. There must be something she could do! If she could see the boy perhaps some inspiration would come to her? It shouldn't be impossible just to take the child and disappear with him back to England. But no, she could not do that. Perhaps his Greek family were fond of him too.

  'I want to see him!' she said aloud. 'Alexandres?'

  'Of course. Only Faith called him Alexander. I shall too!'

  He shrugged. 'As you like. He is too young to be confused quite yet. But, Charity, a word of advice. If I take you to see my parents and on to see the boy at Arachova, you will not try to involve yourself in things which are no affair of yours. Your sister caused my parents a deep hurt and I would not have the wound opened again by you. It will be bad enough for them to know that you are Faith's sister!'

  Charity blinked. Her anger had died away, leaving a nagging anxiety that there was something else about Faith that she did not know. Even if her in-laws had been prejudiced against her, and they probably were, she couldn't imagine this man condemning her out of hand. Perhaps it was because she was a woman and a foreigner, and she was beginning to suspect that in Greece this was a chronic disadvantage, that Nikos had been able to blacken his wife's name.

  'Faith was a fine person!'

  He looked her up and down with an insolence she would not have put up with from an Englishman. 'You are not much like her,' he remarked.

  There was no denying that. Faith had been tall and built on the same generous lines as Hope. Her hair had been the colour of burnished copper and her eyes a vivid green. Charity was different. She was not particularly tall, nor particularly anything, except for her hair which was a violent shade of red and gave her a considerable amount of trouble.

  'Are you like Nikos?' she retorted.

  His laugh took her by surprise. 'Not at all to look at. But you are a little like your sister to look at. You are unlike her in your ways.'

  'Thanks very much!'

  'It was a compliment,' he murmured.

  'Then it was a very nasty one! Faith was—' What had Faith been? she wondered. She could really remember very little about her. She had floated through her adolescence, attracting boys to her side with an ease that had caused Hope to agonize over her own attractions and had thus made her less attractive than ever. She had been incredibly selfish about everything. It wasn't that she had tried to do anyone down; she hadn't considered anyone else important enough for that. If she had wanted something, it would never have occurred to her that there was any reason why she shouldn't take it. After all, why should anyone deny her? And her family never had, no matter what it had cost them.

  'Yes?' Loukos prompted her.

  'Faith was marvellous!' Her enthusiasm wavered into un-certainty,but she picked herself up and hurried on.'She made life exciting. Events had a way of revolving round her and everyoneenjoyed themselves more. Oh, you don't understand what she was like!'

  'I agree she was a catalyst. Did you enjoy yourself more when she was there?' His brilliant eyes demanded the truth, but she couldn't bring herself to betray Faith by revealing how often her sister had hurt her - and Hope too!

  'You sound as though you didn't like her,' she said.

  'I didn't.'

  She was doubly shocked. Shocked that he hadn't admired Faith as much as every other male of her acquaintance had, and even more shocked that he had said so. One did not, in her experience, say such things about the dead. She gulped and tears started into her eyes. She couldn't believe that Faith was dead! Poor Faith! Had she been afraid of dying as she had been afraid of Nikos?

  Loukos did nothing to comfort her. He merely went on looking at her, moving his position slightly so that he had the advantage of the last of the light and she could no longer see his face at all.

  'We shall have to go,' he said at last. 'This place closes at sunset. I shall take you back to your hotel—'

  'Please don't! I can go by myself!'

  'If you wander through the streets of Athens by yourself in the dark you will soon find your motives to be misunderstood! Where are you staying?'

  She told him reluctantly the name of her hotel, noticing the distaste with which he received the information. I can take a taxi. Nobody will misunderstand that!'

  'I have said I will take you, Miss Archer. The hotel is well enough as a place to sleep, but the food there is scarcely adequate. I shall return for you later and we shall have dinner together. We can make our arrangements for tomorrow when I shall take you to Arachova, to see the child. You will want to see Delphi at the same time, yes? It will be quite easy to do both, and it will be convenient to have you with me. I am taking Alexandros to my parents and it is a long drive for a small child, even if he had his nurse with him. It will give you a chance to get to know him!' he added dryly. 'That is what you want, no?'<
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  Charity smiled despite herself. I suppose he's car-sick,' she said without rancour.

  'So I have been told. You will come?'

  She nodded. 'Yes, I'll come. But there is one thing, kyrie.Isn't Delphi quite a long way from Athens? Why is Alexander there? I always understood that Faith lived in Athens?'

  'Once they did,' he agreed.

  'Once?'

  'Before Nikos became interested in Greek theatre,' he explained with obvious reluctance. 'There was this American woman - she was married to a Greek - and she did much to revive the ancient theatre at Delphi. As a matter of fact she is buried there, I will show you her grave when we go there tomorrow. Nikos saw one of her productions a long time ago and he wanted to do something similar himself. He took a

  house at Arachova, which is the village next to Delphi, and went to live there. He planned a great season of drama for next year.' He sighed. 'Now his plans have gone to his grave with him.'

  'Oh, what a shame!' Charity exclaimed.

  Loukos smiled a bitter smile. 'Faith did not approve of his giving up his business life for a dream. If the baby had not been coming, she would not have gone to Parnassus with him. But she was afraid to be left in Athens by herself. She spoke no Greek.'

  'But Nikos' parents were here!'

  'They speak very little English. During the war, perforce, they learned a little German, but they are elderly now and see no reason to learn new ways. They have earned their peace, and Nikos would not allow Faith to disrupt it.' He sighed again. 'Now it looks as though she has succeeded despite him. To have a baby in the house is not a good thing when you are past a certain age.'

  'Perhaps you should let me have him after all?' Charity put in impulsively. But he only shook his head. He smiled at her though and took her arm, guiding her confidently across the rough ground and out into the square where his car was waiting. He opened the door for her and then went round to the other side, pausing to light himself a cigarette. As the match flared, lighting up his features, Charity remembered her book and she wondered why he had not returned it to her straight away. She waited until he had seated himself and then she asked him for it.

  'I want to see what sort of person Apollo was,' she told him.

  He was immediately scornful. 'You will not find out from such a book! The gods do not give themselves away so easily!' He started the engine and then turned and looked at her. 'Or were you really hoping to find out more about me?' He handed her the book with a tight grin. 'You will find out far more about us both at Delphi tomorrow. And I shall find

  out about you!'

  Charity's heart missed a beat, but she told herself that she had nothing to be afraid of from Loukos Papandreous. She had no dark secrets for him to discover, whereas he had a great deal of explaining to do before she would be satisfied. Faith had called to her for help and somehow, by hook or by crook, she would settle her sister's account with her husband's family.

  'Shall I find out about Nikos too?' she asked.

  'Nikos was easy to understand. If you think I resemble Apollo, Nikos certainly had a look of Dionysius. Perhaps that is why he was so interested in theatre. The play began in Dionysius' cult, during the drunken revels that were held in his honour. Nikos liked good wine and a lack of order in his life. He would put on the first clothes that came to hand and laugh if anyone wanted to be serious when he wanted to be gay. It is said that there are two sides to the Greek character, always striving for the upper hand. Apollo and Dionysius still divide us as they seek to extend their rule. It is impossible to serve them both.'

  'Dionysius is too disreputable a character for my taste,' Charity said. 'He was Bacchus in the Roman world, wasn't he?'

  'The Greek gods are not as cruel as the Roman. You have little to fear from them.'

  'I don't,' she denied. 'I don't know enough about them. I've never been much interested in myths. They're so - so unreal!'

  'They also explain much. Charity, will you bring your sister's letter with you tonight? I wish to see it. There are things that neither of us know, but that is no reason why we should be enemies.'

  Charity sat and thought about it. Her first inclination was to hand over the letter and all the responsibility she felt towards her sister to this stranger, which was strange in itself, for she wasn't sure that she even liked him, and she

  knew Faith wouldn't have trusted anyone whose name was Papandreous.

  'I'll think about it,' she said at last.

  She got swiftly out of the car, pausing only to thank him for bringing her back to the hotel.

  'I will come for you at half past eight, if that is not too early for you?'

  She thought it on the late side herself, but she said nothing, only nodded her consent and hurried away from him into the hotel.

  Her room was shuttered and gloomy. She switched on one of the inadequate lights and plumped down on the bed, suddenly exhausted from the emotions of the day. In the next-door room someone was singing a Greek song that had been all the rage in London, five years before, when Faith had first said she was marrying a Greek and was going to live in Greece. Charity couldn't remember the words, though she knew it to be a farewell lament. Oh, Faith, she thought, why did you have to die so young? And she put her hands up to her face and found she was weeping.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The trouble with having red hair is that one does not cry gracefully, leaving no sign of the havoc wrought by tears. On the contrary, one emerges from a bout of weeping bearing a strong resemblance to a Victoria plum and feeling worse. Charity did what she could by bathing her face in cold water and thinking bright thoughts, but she still looked awful, even when the dim, unflattering lights of the hotel were taken into consideration.

  For a long time she sat on the edge of her bed, which she had found was the best place to look at herself in the looking glass, and wondered what she was to do. She could, she supposed, send a message down to reception to say that she was indisposed, but shehad no confidence that Loukos Papandreous wouldn't see fit to come up to see for himself. Yet the idea of eating out with him was not one that appealed to her. She wasn't ready yet to face him. She wanted to come to some decision first, and how could she, when all she could think about was that awful moment when Faith had gone over the cliff at the edge of the road and had fallen to her death.

  Half past eight found her downstairs, however, because anything else seemed to be more and more impossible. She occupied herself by looking at the postcards and the fancy key-rings that the hotel sold to their guests, so she didn't see Loukos Papandreous come into the hotel.

  'Kalispera,Kyria Charity.'

  She jumped and turned, forgetting for a moment her resolution to stay in the shadows.

  'Good evening. Kalispera,'she whispered back.

  He had changed his clothes and was now dressed for the evening. The resemblance to Apollo was more marked than

  ever, though the electric lighting made a poor substitute for the sun.

  'I -I think you ought to call me Miss Archer,' she added. 'We don't know each other after all.'

  His eyebrows rose. 'I have told you my name, Loukos. I make you free of it. Archer is too military a name for you.I think an Archer would not spend the evening crying. Faith would not have done so, so why should you cry for her?'

  'She was my sister - and I loved her!'

  His expression softened, giving her a jolt because she didn't want his sympathy - anyone'ssympathy just at that moment. She was so afraid that she would disgrace herself and burst out crying all over again.