PAGAN ADVERSARY (24 page)

told herself. He was probably downstairs at this moment being fed

titbits in the dining room.

She said, 'I'll go and check.'

She ran out of the room full tilt into Alex. He caught her by the arms

steadying her, his eyes sharpening.

'What is it?' he demanded. 'Are you ill?'

'No.' She tried to steady her breathing. 'Is—is Nicky downstairs?

Have you seen him?'

'No to both questions.' His fingers tightened on her arms until she

could have cried out. 'What are you saying?'

Her voice was toneless. 'He's not in his room, and Yannina hasn't seen

him. His door was open and someone had switched off the alarm.'

There was a greyish tinge suddenly under the swarthy skin as lie

stared at her. He reached out and gripped the door jamb for a moment

as if he needed support, and beneath his breath he whispered

something that might have been a prayer or an oath in Greek.

He looked at her grimly. 'I'll get a search going. Look in his room

again—look in the bathroom in case he's hiding. You say the door

was open. What, about the window?'

For a moment she felt sick, then she said, 'No—the shutters were

fastened,' and saw the relief on his face.

She searched as he'd told her, but Nicky wasn't hiding. If he had been,

he would have come out when he heard their voices, she knew, unless

he was too frightened... .

Frightened of what? The storm? Or something else?

She stood in the middle of the room, listening to the rapid sounds of

activity elsewhere in the villa. So many- rooms, so many places

where a little boy could be lost, a child whom she had left sleeping

deeply and safely.

Her palms were damp suddenly, and she wiped them mechanically on

her floating skirt. She didn't like a single one of the thoughts that were

beginning to press on her mind, but they had to be faced somehow.

With a new purpose she went out of the room, and towards the stairs.

Alex was in the hall, and he looked up as she came towards him, his

face taut. 'Well?'

She shook her head. 'No sign. I'm going to look outside.'

'He won't have gone out there,' he said with conviction. 'It is still

pouring with rain, and you said he was frightened of storms.'

'Perhaps the storm hadn't started when he was taken out there,' she

said.

'Taken?' The look sharpened to a glare, and his brown cheeks flushed

ominously. 'Are you suggesting that someone in this house would do

such a thing? Why?'

'Probably because he's his father's son,' Harriet said levelly. 'Or hasn't

it ever occurred to you that someone got rid of Kostas too?'

She went past him and out into the rain and the darkness.

SHE was drenched to the skin within minutes, the thin cotton clinging

uncomfortably round her limbs. Rain had made the paths slippery and

she walked fast, but with care, pausing every few minutes to call,

'Nicky!'

As she reached the swimming pool, all the lights around it went on as

if Alex, from the house, had guessed the route she had taken. She had

to make herself look into the water, but the pool was empty except for

the toy swan floating rather forlornly in the shallow end. Harriet bit

her lip and hurried on.

The gate down to the beach stood wide. The ground seemed to fall

away in front of her like a descent into hell, and she wished she had

brought a flashlight, but there was not time to fetch one now. She

slipped off her sandals and. began to make her way slowly and

painfully down the path, catching at shrubs and the branches of trees

to steady her progress. .

In the end she nearly fell over him. He was lying in a little crumpled

heap at the side of the path, and she fell on her knees, touching him

frantically, terribly afraid. The path was awash, and children older

than Nicky had drowned in puddles before this. The relief when she

felt his shallow breathing under her hands, and heard the slight moan

he gave as she turned him, was enormous. He was soaked and cold,

however, and next door to unconscious with a sizeable bump on his

forehead, she discovered, her fingertips tenderly exploring. He might

have other injuries—perhaps she shouldn't move him.

Above her on the path she heard the slither of other footsteps, and she

flung back her head and almost screamed Alex's name, because it

could be anyone coming down towards them in the darkness.

Alex said, 'Hush,
agape mou.
I am here.' He lifted her gently to her

feet, and she clung to him, her hands fierce with panic, her breath

sobbing harshly in her throat. There were other people behind

him—Andonis, she saw, and Yannina, her face twisted with anxiety.

She felt Alex's mouth brush her wet hair. He said, 'We must get him

to the house. Can you walk or shall I help you?'

She disengaged herself from him, embarrassment taking the place of

relief in her emotions. She had flung herself at him as if he was her

hope of salvation.

'I can manage,' she muttered, averting her face.

Madame Marcos was standing in the hall as they all trooped in,

Andonis carrying Nicky cradled protectively against his broad chest.

She looked terrible, the usually immaculate coiffure dishevelled as if

she had been clawing at it. Her hands were tearing at a lace-edged

handkerchief. She started forward with a little cry, her face agonised,

and Alex put a swiftly protective arm round her, speaking soothingly

in his own language.

There was something strange and dreamlike about the whole scene,

Harriet thought dazedly. In the distance she could hear the last growls

of thunder as the storm finally retreated, and closer at hand above the

splash of the rain through the open door, came the sound of a woman

wailing and distraught.

She knew who it was. The hall was full of people, concerned,

chattering and staring. Even Maria was there, her eyes nearly popping

out of her head. There was only one person missing—the woman

whose ambition for her son had been so disastrously underestimated.

By all of us, Harriet thought numbly, remembering her own secret

amusement as she'd watched Zoe Constantis trying to push Spiro and

Maria together. And yet in her heart, surely she had always known

that the older woman was no laughing matter....

Alex was beside her. He said, 'The doctor is on his way.'

Her voice sounded far away. She said, 'That's good.

That's very good,' and the world tilted and slid slowly away.

The doctor was young and stocky with a heavy black moustache. In

perfect but accented English he assured Harriet that her fainting fit

had been caused by stress after the unfortunate events of the evening,

and that sleep would soon restore her. This was the conclusion she

had already drawn herself, but it was reassuring to have it confirmed.

She felt a fraud anyway, because once she had regained

consciousness, and got out of her wet clothes and into a warm bath,

she had begun to feel better almost at once. The chicken broth that a

very subdued, red-eyed Androula had brought her had helped too,

because, quite apart from anything else, she realised, she'd been

hungry.

The doctor had calmed some of her fears about Nicky too. He had

suffered other bumps and contusions as a result of his fall, but there

were no broken bones, and he was only slightly concussed.

Pneumonia was always a danger, but with care he felt it could be

averted. He spoke with a certain amount of constraint, and Harriet

guessed he was also thinking about the other patient he had been

called to that evening. Presumably he had administered some kind of

sedative, because the dreadful, spine-chilling wailing had stopped

now.

'He is a strong healthy child,
thespinis.''
The doctor rose to leave. 'But

it is a fortunate thing that he was found no later.' He smiled at her

kindly. 'Although he was not born on the island, already our saint has

him in his care. No harm will come to him now.'

It was a consoling thought, Harriet found, as she lay back against her

pillows, agreeing meekly that it would be better for her to remain

where she was rather than take a turn at sitting up with Nicky.

He asked her if he should leave her some tablets to help her sleep, but

she refused. She felt exhausted,waves of tiredness seemed to be

beating at her. She would have no trouble in sleeping, she told herself.

Nor did she. The trouble came in her dreams, dark, swamping

confusions where everyone seemed her enemy, and she ran endlessly

down black tunnels with Nicky in her arms, trying to escape the

hatred which stalked behind. She was saying a name, crying it

hysterically because the darkness was clamping round her, and this

time he would not rescue her in time. It was like another miracle

when his arms closed round her, lifting her up into light and safety

and a warmth that made her bones ache.

She opened dazed eyes. She was lying wrapped in Alex's arms, her

face buried into the curve of his throat.

With a stifled gasp she pulled herself away, out of his embrace.

'What are you doing here?'

'I came to make sure you were all right.' His voice was husky. 'You

seemed to be having a nightmare, and I tried to comfort you. I did not

mean to wake you. I'm sorry.'

She stared at him, shaken and incredulous. He wasn't actually in bed

with her, just lying on top of it next to her, and that was bad enough.

She said, 'I'd hardly be likely to go on sleeping in the circumstances.'

His mouth twisted slightly. 'No? You did that night in London.' After

a long, taut pause while she endeavoured to make sense of what he

had just said, he added, 'You called my name then, too?'

She remembered that night, those dreams, the odd sense of loss in the

morning when she had woken alone. Her voice sounded strangled.

'You—slept with me?'

'
You
slept,
agape mou
.'
Propped on one elbow, he looked at her

wryly. 'I spent an uncomfortable night fighting my conscience—and

losing. I have cursed myself for being a fool a hundred times since

then.'

'Don't!' Harriet pressed her hands against her burning face.

'Little hypocrite,' he said, amused. 'Are you really trying to pretend

you do not know that
i
want you? And if I tell you that I know you

want me too, will you call me names again?'

There was little point in denying it, she thought, staring down at the

scalloped edge of the sheet she was clutching as if it was her shield

and defender. Was it really only a few hours earlier that Alex had

stirred her to that frenzied response? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

He talks about wanting, she thought. Not about love.

She said dully, 'No, I won't call you names. And I was—having a

nightmare. I'didn't realise I was making a noise.'

'Why should you?' he asked coolly. 'And don't sound apologetic,

Harriet
mou.
After what has transpired in this house, you are entitled

to a nightmare or two.'

She said in a muffled voice, 'I'm so sorry. It's so awful. Do you know

why . . .?'

'Oh, yes.' The amusement vanished. He sounded tired and a little

defeated. 'She had decided a long time ago that Spiro should be my

heir. After Kostas, he was my nearest male relative. Perhaps you

guessed?' She nodded. He went on, 'From speaking to my mother

earlier, I gather that—my aunt encouraged the original rift between

them and that when Kostas returned, she seized the opportunity to do

him more harm. When he visited the safe, he was in too much of a

temper to secure it properly, and she waited until the room was empty

and then took the ring herself. It has been with her ever since, at the

bottom of the bag in which she keeps her tapestries and threads,' he

added with a kind of groan. 'My poor mother is shattered, as you can

imagine. She has always known that Thia Zoe was envious because

she felt my mother made a better marriage, but that her own sister

could behave in such a way—cause her such agony—is beyond

belief. And of course if my mother ever showed signs of softening

towards Kostas, Thia Zoe was there, reminding her of the "wrong" he

had done her.' He said something short and savage in his own

language.After a pause, he went on, 'Before Nicos ever came here she

tried to turn my mother against him, by hinting that he might not be

Kostas' child. She cited the indiscreet behaviour that some girls from

England and other parts of Europe are guilty of when they come to

Corfu, and said that your sister would share the same easy morals.