An eagle swooped Read online

  'I didn't expect you to be up so early,' she smiled on Joinig him at the rail. 'Have you seen the sunrise?'

  'I was just too late. I didn't go round anyway, because the deck hands were working. They don't seem to mind If they drench you with those hoses.'

  Which was not true, for Tessa's experience of ships was that the passengers were always shown every possible consideration. .

  'I must give you my address in Limasso.' Martin too a small book from his pocket and tore out a page. On it he wrote his address and handed it to Tessa. 'My phone numher's there, so don't forget to give me a ring. I know the island pretty well and would willingly take you around.'

  'Thanks, Martin, I'll keep that in mind.' Should she not find Paul, or should she falter in this half formed plan of hers, she might be glad of someone to take her around if she decided to stay a while on the Island, that was.

  The ship docked at noon and Tessa booked in at a small hotel in Limasso.

  It was kept by an English couple, and Tessa could not believe her good fortune when, after casually mentioning Paul's name" she saw 'them look swiftly at one another and then back at her.

  'Paul Demetrius?' Marylyn asked the question, but before Tessa could reply her husband spoke, 'He's a friend of yours?'

  'I know him. I'd like to visit him. You know where he lives?'

  'Not exactly, but his home's away in the mountains somewhere above Bellapais.' A small pause and then, from Clive, 'He's blind, I believe had a bad accident in a car when in England, that was.'

  'Yes.' They were in the lounge; Clive had brought refreshments and Tessa fell silent as she took a drink of her iced lemon. 'Do you know anything about him?' she presently asked, looking up.

  They both shook their heads. 'He's something of a mystery,' said Marylyn. 'He doesn't mix at all. Has a manservant who does for him, and that's about all we know. You met him in England?'

  'I knew him in England, yes.'

  Limassol Was on the south of the island, Bellapais on the north. Should she wait until tomorrow, She had booked in at the hotel and unpacked a few of her things. No, she could not wait, and after repacking her suitcase she paid for the bed she had never used and took a taxi to Nicosia. ...,

  From this attractive city, lying in the centre of the great Messaoria Plain, she took another taxi to Lyrenia

  and then a taxi to Bellapais, where she booked in at a small hotel room by two Greek Cypriots, Maroula and

  Spiros. . .

  'You come from England ' Maroula took Tessa's suitcase and carried it up to her room. 'My son he at university in England.'

  'Where?' asked Tessa, showing polite interest. It was I surprising how many people she had met in her travels who had sons in universities in England.

  'London, of course.'

  'Of course.' To these people London was England.

  'He do very well.' A broad smile appeared on Maroula's brown face. 'He write to me this day and say he engaged.'

  'To an English girl '

  'Yes, that's right. This room, it get all the sun and the mountains are there for you to see, and the sea at the other side. Come out on to the balcony.'

  'Those houses ... .' Tessa's eyes travelled slowly over the vast limestone ridge of the Kyrenia Range. Away in the distance was a very large house. It would not be that, she thought, out asked about its owner.

  'That one it belong to Lady Shine.'

  "There are many English in Bellapais?'

  'Oh, madam many English. They have the new houses. Very expensive. You buy a house'

  'No.' I 'don't want to buy a house. That one—' She pointed away to where a white villa nestled on a ledge of the mountainside. 'English people live there ?'

  'Yes. Mr Sheridan. You look for an Englishman?'

  'No, I'm wanting to find a Mr Pavlos Demetrius. Do you know him Does he live around here?'

  Maroula's brow furrowed, and she slowly shook her head. 'Spiros—he know everything. He in soon; gone to

  Kyrenia shopping.'

  'I'll see him later, then. Thank you, Mrs Melissas.'

  'Call me Maroula. I like this.'

  'Very well, Maroula.'

  'Your name?' .

  'Blane, Miss Blane.'

  'Your first name, madam?'

  'Lucinda.'

  'Madam Lucinda, I call you.' She smiled. 'Madam Lucinda, you are welcome to Bellapais.'

  'Thank you very much, Maroula.'

  'You like my English?'

  'It's very good.' Tessa went back into the bedroom and Maroula followed.

  'Maroula never been to school.'

  'Never?'

  'Few years school in Bellapais—no good. I never go to the gymnasium. But I learn from books, slowly, slowly. Not quickly, madam, 'but slowly, slowly. Little each day, and it is good. I show you book?'

  'When I come down, Maroula. Yes, I'd like to see your book.'

  'Very good book. I learn slowly, slowly. Right!'

  'Right.' .

  Was Maroula typical of the Cypriots Tessa wondered. She was, certainly a friendly, happy person. Spires her husband was at first morel reserved than Maroula had been, serving the dinner with a rather stolid expression on his dark face and saying, each time he removed a plate, 'Madam, it was good?'

  'Very good, thank you.'

  A large glass of wine was brought; eyeing it, full to the brim as it was, Tessa wondered how she would avoid drinking it without offending Spiros. She looked round. Several plants in pots but the wine might kill them!

  'You not drink your wine?' and before she could reply, 'Drink it. It is good!' in a most peremptory tone.

  'I don't usually drink wine,' Tessa began. 'And in any case, it's too much for me. Could you take half of it away?'

  He looked amazed. Where was Maroula? Tessa wondered desperately.

  'You drink, madam, it is good, very good. Drink!' She sipped it; perhaps it was good to some palates, but not to hers.

  'I'll take it to my room,' she said when, her dinner finished, Spires looked at her wine glass and then rested his stern eyes upon her.

  'You not like?'

  'No,' she said apologetically. 'I scarcely ever drink wine.'

  'Scarcely? What is that word?' he asked, diverted.

  'It means hardly.' '

  He shook his head. 'I learn from book. This word?' Eventually Tessa was able to make him understand. And when she had finished the barrier was broken down and he was like his wife, all smiles.

  Maroula came into the dining room and sat down at the table. 'Madam Lucinda, she wants find her friend. His name—'

  She looked at Tessa, who repeated it for Spiro's benefit.

  'Yes ... Pavlos Demetrius. He—What do you say? He not look?'

  'He's blind.'

  'That's right.' His brow furrowed in thought.' 'He live somewhere right up in the mountains very far up. He not like people very strange man.' Spiros glanced swiftly at her. 'Friend of yours?'

  'He's a sort of friend, yes.'

  'Tomorrow I take you. Okay?'

  'That will be fine. Thank you very much.'

  There was no sleep for Tessa that night, and at four o'clock she was out on the balcony, clad only in her nightdress and a thin negligee, for although it was only April, the weather was hot. This was unusual, even for Cyprus she was later to learn from Maroula, 'It usually rain, but not this year.'

  Spires had an old boneshaker of a van; this he used for everything from moving around his fields to taking skins to Nicosia, for by trade he was a butcher. 'You comfortable?' he inquired imperturbably as the van bumped along the road.

  Tessa said yes, she was most comfortable. She had earlier suggested she pay him for some ' petrol, and had instantly closed up, for his expression was enough.

  'Petrol! You not buy petrol; I take you for nothing.'

  'You're very kind, Spires.'

  'No kind! I like take you for 'nothing!'

  She said no more and they had moved off from the hotel, with Maroula, bright and spotless in a printed cotton dress, standing on the forecourt waving to them until, turning a bend in the narrow mountain road, they became lost to sight.

  'I think this is it. But it might not be.'

  'This.'' Looking all round Tessa saw nothing but mountains on her left and the sea on her right, with in between lemon and olive groves and fields ablaze with crimson poppies mingling with the dazzling yellow of masses and masses of small chrysanthemums, the lovely crown daises that grow so abundantly on the island.

  'Not here yet I mean this house that I speak of.'

  'I see. We are not there yet?'

  'Not there, no. It a long way up in the mountain.'

  The road became even narrower until finally it was a mere cart, track of bare brown earth, baked hard and strewn with small boulders. Then she saw the house. White and low, with a panoramic view of mountain and sea .... Emotion filled her; she swallowed, Over and over again, but the tightness in her throat remained. They drew closer and at last Spiros pulled into the dnve which itself was similar to the road, having never been finished apparently. But of course, if Paul never went out, no car was required.

  'You go and see if this is your friend and I shall wait.'

  She stood there looking at the house. No sign of life. Turmng, she glanced down the mountainside

  'How long will it take me to walk?'

  'Back to my hotel?' He looked amazed. 'I wait, Madam Lucinda, for it take you nearly half hour to walk back.'

  'Half an hour? Is that all? I'll walk, then, Spiros. Don't wait and thank you very much for bringing me.'

  'Not thank mel You sure you walk?'

  'Sure, thank you, Spiros.' .

  'Okay.' He accepted her decision cheerfully and she watched as the van disappeared down the earthen track i
n a cloud of red brown dust.

  And then she turned, and looked at the house again. So white that it appeared dazzling against a background of green forest trees on the mountainside. The windows, large and all leading out on to balconies, were at present closed, and the green and yellow shutters closed also. But there were flowers everywhere.' roses, carnations and hibiscus sweet peas perfumed flowers. And lemon blossom, Was ever there a more wonderful perfume? and it was always present, for the lemons cropped all the year round. So on the one tree would be lemons right from tiny green to rich yellowish green, and at the same time, blossoming.

  For a long while she stood there, and during those moments of uncertainty she many times half turned, as if to go away from here, to abandon her plan. But eventually she managed to walk to the front door, and to her astonishment her hand was quite steady when at last she pressed the bell.

  No sound, except an echo of the bell through the house. Beside her on the steps were glorious flowers in pots—all perfumed. She pressed the bell again and the door was instantly opened. The man must have been there all the time. He was small and swarthy, with an unsmiling face and a low frowning brow. His sudden opening of the door had made her start and her voice quivered nervously as she said, 'Mr.Pavlos Demetrius does he live here?'

  The man looked her up and down curiously .. 'He does, madam,' he answered in perfect English. 'But what is it you want? Mr. Pavlos, he does not have visitors.'

  'I think he'll see --- allow me to see him.'

  'Your name, madam?'

  'My name is my name is Lucinda .... ;

  'Madam Lucinda? I will tell him.' He opened the door wider. 'If you will step inside?'

  She did so, raising a trembling hand to her lips. What had she done? The lock clicked and she actually jumped at the sound. As the man moved away she stared fascinatedly at the door. Somehow, the sight. of that closed, door gave her a feeling of impending doom.

  Putting a firm check on her fears, and determinedly making an effort to gain control of her fluttering nerves, Tessa looked around. It was very dark, for here also the shutters were up against the windows, but through them filtered enough light to show her the furnishings of the hall. They were very sparse; just a few chairs and a table. On this stood a huge vase of roses, filling the air with their perfume,

  Footsteps .... Her trembling began again, for these footsteps did not belong to the man who had let her into the house. Slowly, reluctantly, she turned.

  Paul. ...

  Framed in the wide doorway he stood tall and lean and very dark. He wore grey linen slacks and an open necked shirt of gleaming white, the sleeves rolled up above his elbows. Tessa looked at his eyes and caught her breath. Just the same. Expressionless, of course ... but how odd it was that they could appear just the same, with their darkness and depth strangely at variance with the glaze that now covered them. lt seemed impossible that he could not see. Her gaze shifted to his hands. One was at his side, the other held a stick. Much of the skin was discoloured and Tessa thought that, were his skin white, this discolouration would be highly pronounced. Being naturally dark, the brown of the damaged skin blended, so that there was nothing even unsightly about his hands, much less were they repulsive, as Lucinda had implied. Nevertheless, it could be seen at a glance that he had suffered severe burns and Tessa suspected the evidence would remain for the rest of his life.

  'Lucinda .... '

  That beloved voice!

  'Paul, I've come, as you said I could, to ask to ask—' Impossible! God, what should she do! Such a deception was beyond her, and her instinct was to turn and flee. But that would be too cruel. 'Paul, I'm so sorry, but I'm not—'

  'Sorry .. ?' His voice was quiet, incredulous ... and yet, watching his face, Tessa experienced an odd feeling of danger. Was it imagination, or had his voice been edged with bitterness? He spoke again, and instantly the impression was dispelled. 'You've come back to me?' A great sigh left his lips, coming so it seemed to Tessa, right from the very heart of him. 'You've come back to ask—To ask what, Lucinda? You didn't finish what you were saying.'

  Tessa could neither move nor speak, for there was an unreality about the situation which left her wondering if she would soon awake from this fantastic dream to find herself in bed, her pillow damp, as had happened on so many occasions during the past two years.

  'Why have you come, Lucinda?'

  'To ask your pardon. You said you'd forgive me.''

  'I did say that.' The merest trace of a hesitation. 'And I meant it.'

  'You're still willing to forgive me to take me back?' Dazed by the way the words now fell without difficulty from her lips, Tessa was again struck by the unreality of the situation. It was as if someone else were speaking, or rather as if someone were putting the words into her mouth.

  'I'm willing to forgive you, Lucinda.' The voice, as strong and firm as ever, but giving the impression that he too was dazed by these happenings, 'I've wanted you to come back to me have even willed it at times—but I never really thought you would.' Unerringly he put his stick on a chair near by, and then held out his hands. 'My dear and beautiful Lucinda! Let me hold you in my arms.'

  Tessa gave him her hands, and he pulled her gently to him. For the first time she thrilled to his embrace, responded eagerly to his kisses. What did anything matter now? Exultation replaced every other emotion. She could carry out the deception Happiness was hers; and oh, how happy she would make Paul! His affliction was there for life, but with her love she would smooth his way; she would' care for him and tend him. Her eyes would he his. '

  But tears leapt to them now, for never in her wildest imaginings had she thought to find happiness such as this. And Paul, touching her features with tender gentle fingers, discovered these tears and said, 'Remorse, Lucinda?' and she leant away. What was this indefinable thing which brought a strange disquiet to mar her moment of supreme joy? As before, it was in his voice, and something made her say, in pleading, frightened tones, 'You have forgiven me, Paul? You ... still love me?'

  'I've forgiven you, my dearest love.' His lips found hers and he tenderly kissed away her fears. 'We'll have a wonderful life together, Lucinda. Everything in the past must be forgotten.'

  'You're so good—Oh, Paul, how can you forgive so easily?' Only now did it strike her how swiftly he had dismissed the terrible injury done to him by Lucinda, lovingly taking her back without even one word of blame or reproach. How he must love her.

  'If I don't forgive, my darling, how can we be happy?' His fingers travelled over her face, caressing her chin and her cheeks and her mouth. She held her breath. Blind people had a most sensitive touch ... would he discover how different were her features from those lovely bone structures and contours that made Lucinda what she was? But presently she relaxed; Paul was smiling as his fingers touched her hair then caressed her cheek. 'Your tears, my sweet, what are they for?' .

  'I'm so happy,' she murmured, pressing close and holding him lovingly.

  'You've been very unhappy?'

  'Life has held no meaning for me since I since I went away from you.'

  'You could have come sooner, you know. It's over a year.' .

  A tense moment. Tessa's heart beats quickened uncomfortably .. 'I 'didn't think you'd want me.'

  'Afraid I didn't mean what I had said? But I did, my love. I wanted you to come to more than anything in the world I wanted you to be my wife.

  Tessa closed her eyes. How could Lucinda cast away so great a love? '

  'I care for you dearly, Paul' She hesitated, having difficulty in framing her next words. 'I swear, no matter what has happened, that I've always loved you. And I'll spend my life trying to make up for the pain you've suffered.'

  'I believe that, Lucinda. And I know you must love me, to come here, willingly taking on a blind man for a husband. Yes,' he murmured softly, so softly that Tessa almost lost the words. 'Yes, your love for me

  must be very great.'

  He held her close, and all the while her confidence grew. He adored her, lavishing on her his tender kisses and words of endearment. Tessa was so sublimely happy she could have stayed there in his arms forever. It did not seem to matter that all this was really for Lucinda. On making her decision she had known whatever she received from Paul would be secondhand, but she did not care. She was with him; he was hers to cherish and love and to serve. Tessa 'wanted nothing more than this.