Dark Avenger Read online

  "What does Michalis do for a living?"

  "He has two hotels on the island of Mykonos and another in Athens."

  "He has managers in them?"

  Tracy nodded.

  "We go to them quite often, but there's not much doing at this time of the year and we like being here."

  Julie paused a while and then said hesitantly, "Tracy, how would you feel if he were a spongediver?"

  A profound silence followed. Tracy reached for the cigarette box and held it out to Julie. She seemed to be playing for time and Julie's eyes narrowed.

  "I should hate it, Julie, I must admit," replied Tracy at last, and she deliberately avoided Julie's gaze.

  "They go for five months." Julie spoke to herself, her mind in such confusion she could scarcely think clearly.

  "Yes, and that's a long time. You will get used to it, though. All the women do."

  Julie licked her parched lips. This fear for her husband - what did it mean? Could such strong feeling be born of pity?

  "It's no wonder, as Doneus said, that the young men leave the island. Is there other work they can do?"

  "Unfortunately, no. A little farming goes on, but it's mainly done by the women. We have no industries, and nothing else of any importance. We do export a few oranges, but that is all. You see, we have only two valleys and in these are grown citrus fruits, grapes and figs; then around the monasteries higher up in the hills there are small areas of fertile land, but the island is, in the main, nothing but rock - spectacular and very beautiful, but the only harvest we get is from the sea. Spongediving's the only work and this means that the fifteen hundred or so spongedivers have to provide for the island's total population."

  "You said the trade was dying."

  "It is, and while it might be fortunate for the men, it is, sadly, unfortunate for the island as a whole."

  "What are you two talking about?" Michalis spoke across the room and Julie looked at him. He was handsome, but very different from Doneus, since he was full-faced and swarthy, and in build he was short and rather stout. "Private and confidential, or can we now intrude?"

  "Do, by all means," invited Tracy. "I'd begun to wonder when you two would remember you have wives!"

  The rest of the evening was spent most pleasantly and at the end Doneus and Julie were invited to come again the following week.

  "Thanks, we accept the invitation," smiled Doneus, glancing at Julie, who instantly nodded. "We'll be here about the same time."

  During the drive home in the great car, with its flaring headlights picking out the scattered white dwellings and the massive cypress trees and palms, Julie was very quiet, her thoughts flitting with chaotic inconsistency from her anxiety over her husband's work to the scene which must surely be enacted once she and her husband were in their own house.

  She kept seeing that boy, helped along by the other in a seaman's cap - the one who as yet was safe, who, in a little over four months' time, would be going to sea again, to dive into the deep waters, perhaps naked, in his quest for the creatures that were his livelihood. And before he went his mother and wife and sisters would light candles to St. Nikolas, or St. Stephanos o't some other saint, and all the time he was away they would go into church and pray ... pray.... For five long months they would pray.

  A quarter of an hour later Julie was saying good night to Doneus and hoping there was not to be an argument. Alas for her hopes! He had let Jason out and the door was open.

  "I'll have to wait for Jason," Doneus returned in an expressionless voice. "I'll be with you later."

  She stood facing him, her chin lifted. "Doneus, we had this matter out this morning-"

  "We began to have it out," he intervened, correcting her. "I warned you and I am not willing to alter my decision. We are married, Julie."

  "I told you it was a mistake! "

  His eyes lit with amusement, yet on noticing inflexibility also Julie's heart sank.

  "Is that what you call it?"

  "I'm not willing to be a wife to you, Doneus. I'm sorry."

  He looked at her, his mouth tight, his jaw flexed. She noticed the scar, and the movement within it. Doneus was angry, and yet his anger was held in check as he said, "One can never go back, Julie. Always one must go forward. I'm your husband now and I mean to remain your husband."

  She looked around helplessly, noting the open door. But where could she go if she ran away from him? In any case she would not be allowed to run away. Julie felt trapped, and sudden tears filled her eyes.

  "If you were a gentleman -"

  "But I'm not, am I? At least, not in your eyes. I'm a poor Greek peasant whose lovemaking you enjoyed even while being ashamed that you allowed me to make love to you. You're above me - way above the poor spongediver. No, Julie, I am not a gentleman, and as you don't consider me to be a gentleman then you must not expect me to act as one - although I fail to see why you should consider it ungentlemanly for me to desire a normal relationship with my own wife." He turned his head as Jason came in. The next moment the door was closed and the key turned in the lock. "Come, Julie, you will feel just as you did last night - happier, even, because you won't be so shy. Come," he added softly, "come and be my wife."

  "Your woman, you mean! That's how the taxi-driver referred to a Greek man's wife - his woman, he said!"

  "That's merely an expression. I think of you as my wife, not my woman." Quiet tones, devoid of anger, but still firm and inflexible. "Are there tears in those lovely eyes -?" He came close and took her in his arms. She tried to resist, but he held her, and she was defenceless in his embrace. His kiss was too demanding, too possessive. Julie gave up the struggle, loath to admit that this man could master her by sheer charm and persuasion, yet having to admit it.

  "Be truthful, Julie. Why did you let me make love to you last night?" He seemed so confident of her answer, so sure the reason was physical desire that her anger rose and before she realized what she was saying she told him it was pity.

  "Pity!" He stood there, stock still, as if he had received a blow that had stunned him utterly. "Is that what you feel for me?"

  His face was pale beneath the tan; Julie knew she had hurt him irreparably and her tender heart cried out against those hastily-spoken words. They were true, of course, she told herself, but that conviction did not detract from her own self-condemnation.

  "My God - pity!" He released her and stepped back. "Do I want your pity? No! Keep it!" And without another word he left her, standing there by the whitewood tale, trembling from head to foot, truly believing that the ache in her heart resulted entirely from remorse that she had allowed her tongue to run away with her. How deeply he had been hurt. And she had vowed, so many times, not ever to allow him to know how she pitied him.

  "Why did I say it? Why?" she whispered fiercely. "It would have been far kinder to let him think it was a physical attraction."

  But it was done now, and Julie could only hope and pray that he would in time get over it.

  "Tell me," he said harshly at breakfast the following morning, "has everything stemmed from pity? The desire to spend money on the house? The time you gave me, the walks we've had together? All pity? Answer me, girl! Answer my questions!"

  "Doneus, I - I -"

  "No excuses! I know what pity is! I've felt it myself for all the men whose bodies have been mangled. Don't carry your pity any further by trying to mitigate what you've done. Answer my questions, I say!"

  She swallowed, afraid of him and seeing him now as the satanic figure of the past.

  "Yes, Doneus - I'm very sorry." Tears were in her eyes; he saw that they were produced by pity and he stood up, over her as she sat at the table, trembling and spent already by the scene.

  He wrenched her to her feet, his grip cruel and merciless on her wrist.

  "What sort of man do you think I am to want your pity? You cheat, Julie! I hate you for your cheating pretence! And to think I was fool enough to say that soon you would know all! You can go home just whene
ver you like - today won't be soon enough for me!"

  He left the house; the big car crunched on the gravel and was lost in a cloud of tawny dust. Julie sat there trembling still, her heart and mind filled with remorse and fear.

  Home.... She could go. He was releasing her because she pitied him. What sense was there in his marrying her if he was now releasing her? Without her pity he was content to live on indefinitely with her. Because she pitied him he wished her gone. It was understandable, she supposed, because of his innate pride. What was not understandable had been the words, "And to think I was fool enough to say that you would soon know all! "

  Eventually she rose, her breakfast, like that of her husband, practically untouched. She cleared away and washed the pots.

  Home.... Would he expect her to be gone by the time he returned this evening?

  She went into her room and looked at the clothes hanging there, on a rail suspended from the ceiling by pieces of rope attached to two iron hooks. Home.... And her luxurious bedroom and bathroom, her smiling maid....

  Why she should walk right up to the castle gates she did not know. It was as if she were influenced by the force which had impelled her on other occasions to act in a way contrary to what her instincts dictated. The flowers were not so plentiful now, she noticed, and some of the trees were tinted with crimson and bronze, their leaves falling like tiny gliding birds.

  Jason came bounding to the gate as if he had sensed her presence ... and a moment later Doneus appeared. He stood on one side of the high wrought iron and Julie on the other.

  "What do you want? I told you to go!"

  "Doneus - Tracy and Michalis, they'll wonder why -"

  "I shall explain. Go home, I say!"

  She looked up at the top of the gate. Bars between them -unbreakable, unsurmountable bars.

  "If we could talk ...?" What was she saying? Why had she come here, drawn to him as a needle to a magnet?

  "You and I have nothing to talk about. You're Edwin Veltrovers's niece. Go back to him. I'll expect you to be out of my house when I return -"

  "I can't! Not in that short time."

  "Pack your things and I'll take you to town. You can stay in an hotel until there's a ship." He strode off, calling to Jason and because he spoke the one small word "ela" instead of speaking to the Labrador in English, it seemed to Julie that it was indeed the end of everything between her and Doneus.

  Back in the cottage she sat irresolute in a chair. What must she do? A few weeks ago she would have seized on this opportunity of freedom, but now ... now Julie knew she had no desire to leave. It was because of her sense of duty, she told herself. She had promised, and she would keep to that promise. She would stay at least until April, when Doneus went to sea.

  She told him this when he came in. Strangely, he said nothing, not one word. But he refused his dinner and went out again, riding his bicycle in the direction of the castle, with Jason trotting along beside him as usual. And he stayed at the castle all night. Julie sat up until midnight, cold and lonely, unable to believe she could be missing him so.

  For the past week or two they had been having dinner together, had been walking in a sort of intimate companionship. And now she was alone, and afraid because she knew, by ten o'clock, that he was sleeping at the castle. Would he be outside? - in some awful draughty shed? Surely not. He would find somewhere inside, she told herself desperately.

  At midnight she went to bed, and wept into her pillow until, as the first light dawned, she fell into a restless sleep, awaking only when she heard Jason barking outside the door.

  She glanced at the clock. Ten-thirty. She got up, slipped on a dressing-gown and opened the living-room door. Jason bounded in, wagging his tail furiously. He at least was glad she was still here.

  "Jason, you pet!" She bent and snuggled her head against his silky coat, and then she stiffened, her nerves tingling. She straightened up, coming face to face with her husband.

  "Where have you been?" Her voice was soft, compassionate. A mistake again as she saw when his face twisted into evil lines.

  "I've been quite comfortable, thank you. You can save your pity." Brushing past her, he went into the lean-to. She followed him, but he disappeared through the back door and she returned to her room to get dressed.

  "If only I understood everything," she was saying a little later, standing by Doneus as he did something to the pedal of his cycle. "You won't tell me why you married me.."

  "Are you going back to England or not?" His cold tones sent shivers through her. They seemed to say that, should she decide to stay, then she would live alone from now on.

  "I promised, and I'm keeping that promise." Her white face was raised to his as he straightened up. He glanced into it dispassionately and said,

  "I absolve you from any promise you made to me."

  "You want the marriage to end?"

  At that he seemed to flinch, and she saw now that he also had lain awake most of the night - all of it, probably. Why should he be so hurt? Did his pride go so deep that he could suffer so because of it?

  "I think you'll agree that it's the only thing to do."

  "Then why marry me at all?"

  "There was a very good reason." His voice was slightly softer, having lost its harsh edge. "That reason is no longer important. Are you leaving?" he inquired again, and Julie shook her head emphatically.

  "I'm keeping to my promise."

  He had turned from her, intending to walk away, but he swung round again.

  "Why?" he asked briefly, subjecting her to a searching scrutiny before she bent her head, avoiding his gaze.

  "It's a matter of honour."

  "Honour," he echoed bitterly. "Honour and pity! Go, I say!"

  Something within her seemed to be hammering for admittance to her conscious thought. Something she could neither grasp or understand. She suddenly thought of his mother.... Julie knew where she lived; Doneus had mentioned the place once. It was in Pothaia.

  "I'm staying," she told him firmly. "I believe a Greek husband never turns his wife out forcibly."

  "Forcibly?" He seemed dazed all at once. "I'd never turn you out, Julie."

  Julie. It seemed like a lifeline thrown to her while she still had the strength to grasp it.

  "Then there's no more to say, Doneus," she returned quietly, and went back into the house. He rode away on his bicycle and she washed her face and hands and went out. The communal taxi would be at the village in thirty minutes' time.

  It was an old house, similar to that of Doneus, but not so isolated, several other houses being in the vicinity. The woman recognized Julie instantly and her face paled.

  "My Doneus - my son. He not come with you. He is not good?"

  The words were very broken, just as Julie remembered them on a previous occasion.

  "Please don't be afraid, Mrs. Lucian, Doneus is quite well." Julie stressed each word, speaking slowly. "I want to talk to you. May I come in?"

  Doneus's mother nodded and opened the door wider for Julie to enter.

  "What is this talk you have with me?" She still appeared to be very scared. "This chair, please."

  "Thank you." Julie sat down and came straight to the point, hoping she could make the woman understand what she desired to know. "Mrs. Lucian, I believe you know why Doneus wanted to marry me. Will you tell me why?"

  The woman started, then her face puckered as if concentration were an effort.

  "I not understand. I not speak English." Mrs. Lucian glanced down at her hands, deliberately avoiding her visitor's gaze.

  Julie's eyes narrowed.

  "Is there anyone close who can interpret -? I mean, does some neighbour speak English -?"

  "No!" The woman lifted her head swiftly. "No people here speak English-no!"

  Julie looked at her, still through narrowed eyes.

  "You were able to make yourself understood to me when you saw me in England. You do speak a little English, Mrs. Lucian, and I want to know about the mystery w
hich surrounds my marriage to your son."

  No answer, and Julie added sternly, "Why did Doneus want to marry me?"

  "I think - I think - for - what you say? - own back - for Annoula, you see." Fear looked out of the woman's eyes, a fear greater by far than that which she had evinced initially. "My son - he not know that you come to my house?"

  "He does not. He won't tell me why he married me, but, Mrs. Lucian, I'm very sure it wasn't for revenge -"

  "Revenge?" The woman's face puckered again. "I not know this word, revenge?"

  Julie sighed. She was not going to get very far, evidently.

  "For Annoula."

  "For Annoula, yes," returned Mrs. Lucian, and Julie uttered an exasperated sigh.

  "When did you last see Doneus?" inquired Julie, veering the subject.

  "My son, he come every day."

  "Every day?" Julie stared, amazed. "On his bicycle?" she added softly, her eyes never leaving the woman's face.

  Mrs. Lucian turned away.

  "He get one lift - from friend, you understand?"

  "No," returned Julie, "I do not understand."

  "His friend -" Doneus's mother stopped, fumbling for words.

  "His friend - with taxi. You have some coffee? You like Turkish coffee?"

  Julie bit her lip. So much for her efforts. The woman's reluctance to be drawn out, plus the fact that neither could speak the other's language, must inevitably result in the mystery remaining unsolved.

  "I don't care for Turkish coffee, but I'll have a cup of tea - if you have tea?" she added, realizing it might be too expensive for Mrs. Lucian to buy. But Mrs. Lucian nodded, and smiled, and a few minutes after disappearing into the kitchen she was back with a tray on which was a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. Julie was thoughtful, still dwelling on the woman's statement that Doneus was able to obtain a lift every day. It seemed quite impossible that he should do so and Julie felt sure he used the castle car. Yet how could he afford the petrol?

  Of course, Julie had no idea how much he earned, nor did she know how he was paid. She had surmised that the owner of the castle had made some arrangement whereby Doneus could receive it by post. It went to the castle, obviously, for when Julie picked up her own letters at the village store there was never any mail for Doneus. She had assumed he was not very well paid when, on one occasion, she had mentioned a rug she had seen in a shop in Pothaia. He had said he could not afford to buy it. The price was seventy drachmae - one English pound.