Strangers May Marry Page 12

  'I've told you! You took the man I wanted!'

  'You yourself are a member of this vendetta, aren't you?'

  'Clever deduction!' sneered Marilyn, dragging on the cigarette again.

  'Does Paul know?'

  'I haven't admitted anything—'

  'There's no need; it's obvious—' Laura stopped as Marco came into the room. She heard him say, 'Yes, Madam Pavlos? You want something?'

  But she did not answer; she was examining every detail of his face, the eyes and mouth especially. Frank eyes, as dark as could be without being actually black, a full mouth, parted now in the familiar smile he seemed to keep especially for her. He smiled at Marilyn, too, but she was indifferent to it.

  'Bring some tea, please,' she said and returned his smile. She was so very relieved that it wasn't Marco who was the traitor. She had liked him from that very first evening when he had so graciously spoken in English instead of his native Greek.

  Demetrius… At least one, Marilyn had said. At least—which implied that there was more than one adherent to the principles of the vendetta but did not necessarily mean that more than one person had eavesdropped. Demetrius, she thought again, then dismissed the idea as unfair. Demetrius had always been courteous to her, had always known his place as a servant in her husband's house.

  So who else was there? Of the three girls Laura did consider Pelaya, then again dismissed the idea, and in any case, Marilyn was speaking again, to ask why she was so quiet.

  'I was trying to think who could have eavesdropped.'

  'It's not important.'

  'Not important?' with a lift of Laura's brows. 'Paul will consider it of prime importance. Whoever it is will be out of a job very shortly.'

  The other girl merely shrugged her shoulders. 'I didn't come here to waste time on discussing Paul's servants.'

  'Nevertheless, you were willing to use one.' Laura was still very puzzled about several aspects of this business, and it was with some impatience that she had to wait for the departure of Marco who had just entered with the tea tray.

  'I'll manage now, thank you.' She smiled, noticing his swift and inscrutable glance across the room to where Marilyn was seated in the big armchair, legs crossed, a cigarette between her lips.

  'It was a natural thing that I should use one. After I'd discovered that you were going around all Paul's workers, asking about Irene and Joseph, it set me thinking. You must remember that I did not even know they'd parted or that they were no longer here. I was curious; I knew that I might be able to gain some information from one of the servants here, in this house, and I did gain information. It was easy, because Demos Gavezas had already been making enquiries of this servant. He had asked him to listen, so that he could pick up any clues as to the whereabouts of your sister, since it was possible that Paul might just happen to know where she was.' Marilyn paused.

  Laura, nerves wary and pulse racing, leant forward to pour the tea, an automatic gesture urged by her subconscious in order to ease the tension that was tightening every muscle in her body. 'Perhaps,' she said, after getting up to place Marilyn's tea on a small table which she had put at her elbow, 'you will now come to the main point of your visit?'

  'You're a cool one and no mistake.' A sneer caught Marilyn's underlip before she put the cigarette back into her mouth. 'I doubt, though, that you are as cool inside.' She inhaled deeply, then regarded Laura through the veil of smoke she had made. 'Yes, I believe the time is right for revealing the real motive behind my visit. It's revenge… or hadn't you guessed?' Triumph mingled with deep hatred and Laura's heart seemed to leap right into her throat.

  Angry because this girl had created the fear that raced through her veins, Laura sent her a fiery glance and said in quivering tones, 'Come out with it, Marilyn, and stop this stupid taunting! Jealousy's making a child of you! Be your age and say what you came to say!'

  Marilyn's eyes widened to their full extent. She seemed for a moment unable to believe that her enemy had rallied, because Marilyn had convinced herself that Laura was quaking inside. 'You seem exceedingly eager to hear what the Gavezas brothers have in store for you…'

  'For me?' exclaimed Laura, looking sharply at her. 'Why me? I haven't done anything.'

  'You obviously haven't been enlightened as to the laws applying to the vendetta. Paul seems to have kept back vital information.'

  'What information?' Laura's fear was swamping her previous anger.

  'If the wrongdoer can't be found, then the next of kin is chosen for punishment.' Slowly came the words, with Marilyn's hard eyes fixed on Laura's face as the colour receded, leaving it white. 'You will take the punishment… you and perhaps the child.' Again the words came slowly in order that they could be absorbed and fully understood.

  Laura's mouth felt dry and a pain was causing her temples to throb. 'Mandy has nothing whatsoever to do with it. She's no relation either to me or to my sister.' Even as she spoke Laura felt sure the other girl had an answer ready.

  'Mandy was no relation until you adopted her. She is now the niece of the woman wanted by the Gavezas brothers. I have irrefutable information that they intend to inflict vengeance on you, and as I said, probably on the child.'

  'No one would be wicked enough to take a little girl away and hurt her!'

  'Little girls are being taken away and hurt all the time.'

  'But this is different! I still do not believe these Gavezas people would take Mandy…no, it's not possible!' Laura was shaking her head vigorously. 'As for their wanting to punish me instead of my sister— well, that's equally unconvincing. I refuse to believe they'd want to use me as a whipping boy!'

  'It's custom,' asserted Marilyn coolly. 'It's been going on for countless ages, both here and in the Deep Mani. Custom,' she repeated. 'And custom is stronger than law.' Leaning forward in her chair with a sort of negligent gesture and picking up her tea. 'I know the Gavezas boys well; they're strong and savage adherents to the ancient laws of the vendetta, so make no mistake. Now they know you're related to Irene, you're doomed.'

  'Don't be melodramatic!' Laura stopped somewhat abruptly, frowning at her own banality.

  'I'm stating facts.' Marilyn's glance was brittle and cold. 'You're trying to minimise the danger but in your heart you know it exists.'

  Unable to sit still, Laura rose and moved to the other side of the room. Her thoughts refused to obey her desperate attempt to clarify them; they were rioting, shooting from one thing she had heard to another, and never resting long enough for her to grasp anything she could hold on to even for a few seconds. Physically, too, she was labouring under the stress brought on by fear and uncertainty. It were frightening enough to know her own danger—and she did know it, for in spite of the derision exhibited just now she did in fact believe what Marilyn had told her—but to know of the probable danger to Mandy was something she could not bear to think about. What sort of reprisals did these barbarians indulge in? she wondered. Torture? Disfigurement? What were the police doing to allow this cult to survive? But hadn't Paul already explained? Custom, he had said, like Marilyn, was stronger than law. The police were fighting this cult and it would die in the end, but for now it was still fairly strong in these two places in Greece mentioned both by Paul and this girl who had hoped to become his wife. Restless, Laura dropped into the chair again and sipped her tea; it tasted like poison in her mouth.

  'You're contemptible!' she could not help saying as she looked into hard eyes flecked with glittering points of ice. 'How can you belong to this pagan cult? You ought to have more sense!'

  The blue eyes darkened as Marilyn seemed to lose a modicum of her composure, but she instantly regained it. 'I've already said I'm not admitting anything. You've assumed without having proof.'

  'Proof?' with a glance of surprised contempt. 'Haven't you just provided enough proof… proof that you're… rotten?' The word ripped out, and Laura had no regrets even when it seemed that the other girl would rise and strike her across the face, so venomous di
d her expression become.

  'You've no idea of caution, have you?' she snarled.

  'From what you've been telling me caution won't serve any useful purpose.'

  'Unless you use it practically… by leaving this island just as soon as you can get yourself and the child a flight.'

  Laura said nothing. She still could not collect her thoughts, much less try to make a decision that would affect the lives of three people.

  'I still can't believe…' Laura's voice drifted and she shook her head.

  'You do believe it can happen,' stated Marilyn with a sneer of satisfaction. She regarded her hated enemy from above the cup and the slow-drawn-out smile was more detestable to Laura than the sneer. 'Think about what I've said,' she advised. 'But don't take too long about it. I'll do my best to stay the hands of these men, but I can't promise to stay them for more than a day at most.'

  'A day!' exclaimed Laura, suddenly jerked from the near paralysis brought on by imaginative pictures of Mandy being kidnapped, kept prisoner. 'What can I do in a day?'

  'Pack up and get out. It's urgent, woman! What must I do to convince you?'

  'It c-can't be that… that urgent.' Laura clamped her teeth as her mouth began to tremble. Her whole body seemed gripped now, in merciless talons of fear. 'I must have time to think.'

  The blue eyes glimmered shrewdly and the sneer became evident again. 'So at last you're beginning to accept the danger. Well, as I've said, I can keep the avengers at bay for a day… I think,' she added with a subtle threat. 'But a day at most.'

  Laura shook her head dazedly. The fight seemed to be ebbing from every fibre, every single cell in her body and her mind. She was thinking of Mandy all the time, Mandy who had never given her or anyone else a moment's real anxiety, Mandy of the swift impulsive smile, the chubby freckled face, the gleam of mischief in her big brown eyes. Sheer terror brought Laura's teeth together again as she made a supreme effort to suppress the ague which was affecting her, bringing about a violent fit of shivering. Swiftly she rose, putting her cup down with a little bang. 'Please go,' she quivered, a hand on her heart. How it raced! Was this what happened before an attack? 'Leave at once!'

  Marilyn rose and picked up her handbag. Triumph was clearly written on her face, the black hatred of jealousy in her eyes. 'What price your marriage to Paul now?' She spoke as if driven by some vicious force beyond her control. 'It'll not last much longer.' Marilyn walked to the door and opened it. 'There are two flights daily from here,' she said, turning round.

  Laura stared at her for a long moment, yet again endeavouring to straighten out her thoughts. From the jumble emerged what should have emerged right at the start.

  Paul would know what to do, Paul was friendly with Spiros Gavezas. There would be no danger. Her eyes brightened as a deep sigh of relief escaped her. So stupid to panic like that when she had her husband to support her, and the child he now called his own.

  The lifting of the weight must have shown in her expression because she heard her antagonist say, 'You're very transparent. But let me give you one last warning; don't consult Paul about this.'

  'And why not?' with a lift of her head which could only be described as arrogant. 'Why should I not consult the one person who will know of a way out of this?'

  'Because,' answered the other girl slowly and deliberately, 'he too is in danger. He's the brother-in-law of the woman they want.' A pause, significant and interminable, before Marilyn continued, her voice like the low, gutteral echo from the back of a predator's throat, 'Do you want to see him maimed for life… or perhaps disfigured?' There was no waiting for an answer as Marilyn swung about and disappeared, leaving the door wide open behind her.

  Chapter Nine

  Mandy's laughter rang across the garden from the swimming pool. It was barely two hours since Marilyn had gone and yet, as if aided by some in-built medicatrix that soothed and calmed and made it possible for her to think logically and wisely, Laura had been able to make a decision. Not for herself was the deep anxiety, the fear of reprisal by men whom she branded as barbarians, throwbacks from the dark ages of paganism, but for the two people who meant so much in her life: Mandy whom she loved, and Paul whom she respected… whom she now wished she could love. If it wasn't for Phil…

  'Mummy, are you coming in for a swim?' Lefki was sitting on the side of the pool, watching Mandy floating about with the aid of inflated arm bands. 'What have you been doing?'

  Laura bit her lip, swallowing to free the ball of misery in her throat. She had been phoning the airport. Seats were available on a flight tomorrow at a quarter past three in the afternoon.

  'I'll come in for a little while,' she called and went to change. The suitcase was on the bed, nothing in it yet, but so much revealed by the open lid, the way the ties had been taken out and spread down the sides and onto the bed.

  She spent an hour in the pool, and no sooner had she come out than Pelaya, ready to go home, came over hurriedly to say that Laura was wanted on the telephone. Marilyn! There rose a sensation of physical sickness within Laura's stomach. She picked up the receiver from where it lay on the hall table and heard her husband's voice.

  'Yassoo!' he greeted her and his voice sounded light and happy. 'How is everything?'

  'Fine.' She swallowed hard but the sudden choking sensation was like a knot in her throat. 'You said you wouldn't be in at this time of the day.'

  'The business went so well that it's finished! I'm ready to go off to the airport. I'll be home around half past eight.'

  'Tonight?' Laura's heart lurched. 'Tonight, Paul?'

  'Yes.' The voice seemed curt now and a small silence followed before he added, 'Yes, Laura, tonight.' Another pause. 'You don't sound too pleased.'

  She caught her lip, tears stinging like needle points against her lids. He had assumed she was not happy at this cutting short of his visit to Athens. He thought she did not want him home…

  'Of c-course I'm pleased,' she managed, and hoped the little stammer of nervousness had escaped his ears. 'Half past eight, you said?'

  'That's right.' The curt inflection was still there.

  'So dinner will be around half past nine?'

  'At the earliest. I'll need to freshen up and change.'

  'Of course.' Laura wished she could find something else to say.

  'Good-bye, then.' Silence, and she thought he must have rung off. 'Is anything the matter?' A hint of concern overrode the former brusqueness. 'You're not saying much.'

  'Er… no. I was taken by surprise.'

  'Because I'm coming home earlier than planned?'

  'Yes, that's right.' What kind of a stilted conversation was this? she thought, aware that she was trembling and that the tears had reached her lashes. 'I'd better go,' she said awkwardly. 'It's Mandy's teatime.'

  'She's all right?'

  The concern seemed deeper and Laura was swift to reassure him. 'She's fine… in her usual exuberant spirits.'

  'I'm glad one of you is. I'll say good-bye again and be off.' The receiver clicked and Laura closed her eyes, all her composure gone again, all the calmed thoughts shooting about all over the place. What should she do? She could pack and be gone, could book in at an hotel somewhere in Heraklion and lie low until tomorrow…No, that wouldn't do at all. Paul would know she was still on the island simply because the first plane to leave tomorrow was the one on which she had booked, the one in the afternoon.

  'Mummy!' Mandy sailed up to her, lifting her chubby face which was wreathed in smiles. 'Wasn't it a lovely swim?'

  'Very good.'

  'You didn't think I would learn as quick as that, did you?'

  'Well, you did have your wings, darling.' 'Oh, I know, but I can swim without them. Daddy said I mustn't though, if he wasn't with me, so I did as I was told.' An imp of mischief danced in the wide brown eyes. Laura wanted to gather her up and weep against her shoulder.

  It had rained heavily as the sun was going down and a cloying mist remained as the aftermath of the storm.
Laura, after bathing Mandy and putting her to bed, had sat there reading until she had dropped off to sleep. Laura tucked the sheet into her back, dropped a kiss on the rosy cheek, and left the room. She was now on the verandah of her bedroom, hands idly resting on the wet rail, eyes staring unseeingly into the gloom. Somewhere out there were Paul's vineyards, and his orchards of citrus fruits, somewhere lost in a shroud of unidentifiable space. A void… and that was what she was in at this moment. A void of uncertainty. She could tell Paul everything and risk—what? His safety? And that of their child? Or she could act normally—if that were possible under the strain—and somehow get away tomorrow without his knowing. It might not be too difficult since when at home Paul's customary practice was to spend the whole of the afternoon in his study, and no one dared disturb him. Yes, this was the best way, the only way. She could manage to put the suitcases into the boot because there was a side door from the hall leading into the garage. The staff usually dallied over their lunch until about half past two. Luckily it wasn't one of the days when Mandy went to play school, so there would be no problems in that direction.

  Time went by with tedious slowness but at last glancing even yet again at her watch, Laura turned into the room, and began stripping off in readiness for her shower.

  She was dressed and sitting in the salon when she heard the car grind to a halt on the loose gravel of the forecourt. Paul strode in, globules of moisture on his fair hair where the mist had managed to settle for the short time it took to get from the car to the front door. Tall and distinguished, erect and lithe-limbed, he was everything any woman could have wished for—and more! Something she had never before experienced stole through her veins; something indescribable plucked at her heartstrings. Quivers strange and pleasant spread like the touch of warm fingers along her spine. For the moment she forgot her problems, forgot she would not be here this time tomorrow. A smile came to her lips; it shone in her eyes. But Paul didn't happen to be looking, for he had drawn a handkerchief from his pocket and was wiping his face, then the front of his hair.