Beware of the Beast (27 page)

She was
touched,
however, by the presents she received
in return for her small gifts; a knitted scarf from Maria,
sheepskin mules from Tina and Sophia, an embroidered
 
handkerchief from
Cristof
. Irena had bought her some per
fume, rather an exotic blend, which Charlotte secretly thought would suit the other girl far better than herself,
Eleni
produced a finely stitched smock which would come in very useful later
and even Franco had a box of candies for her.

All of them were going to the service at the small church
in the village that morning, but before they left Alex came in
to see her. She had not seen him alone since the afternoon
two days ago when she had told him she wanted to leave, and
as she had left his present with the others in the lounge, she
had not expected his personal thanks.

"I have a small present for you," he told her, standing
just inside the open door, his eyes guarded. "If you feel up to
it, I'll fetch it in.”

Charlotte looked puzzled.
"If I feel up to it?
Oh, I'm all
right, really."

He inclined his head, and left the room, returning moments
later with a squirming mass of amber-
coloured
fur. Charlotte
clasped her hands together, staring at him- with wide eyes,
and he bent and
desposited
the creature on the floor. It was a
spaniel puppy, plump and excited, careering round the bed
room with a complete disregard for the furniture.

"Oh,
Alex !"
Charlotte slid her feet out of bed, calling to
to
the dog, grasping its wriggling body as it tried to jump up at her. "Alex, it's beautiful!" Tears welled into her eyes. "I
don't know what to say."

Alex regarded the picture they made with a rather grim
intentness. Then he shook his head. "Don't say anything.
By the way, she's had the usual injections, and I understand
she's partially house-trained, although I wouldn't bank on it."

Charlotte looked from the dog to his face and then back
to the dog again. "Is - is she mine?" she ventured unevenly,
and heard his harshly drawn breath.

"Yes, she's yours," he told her bleakly. "A memento, if
you like, of your stay in
Lydros
!" He walked out the door
without a backward glance.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Both
January and February were wet months, and the winds
which swept the island from the north-west kept the temper
ature well below normal for the time of year. The rain did not
fall as it did in England, for days on end, but came in torren
tial downpours which could soak one in seconds. Roofs streamed,
waterbutts
overflowed, and paths were turned to
muddy quagmires. The island looked different beneath its
pall of water, but Charlotte had come to like it in all its guises.

She walked every day, exercising the spaniel bitch which
she had named
Suki
.
Suki
demanded a lot of attention in those
early weeks, and Charlotte was glad of her company. She had
never trained a dog before, but it was a challenge, and in no
time
Suki
was properly house-trained, and less likely to tug
on the lead when she went walking. Her undemanding af
fection was a salve to Charlotte's bruised emotions, her antics
a constant source of amusement. Even Maria was not immune
to the appeal of those wide brown eyes, and the animal
became a
favourite
with all the servants.

Charlotte spent most of her time in or around the villa.
Since Alex's departure, she had seen little of
Eleni
, and she knew the old woman blamed her for what she saw as the
breakdown of their marriage. On the rare occasions Charlotte
had made the trek across the island, she had been made aware
of
Eleni's
disapproval, and in consequence their relationship
lapsed. Charlotte was sorry about this. She genuinely cared for
the old woman. But perhaps she was right. There was no
point in getting involved when in six months or so she would
be leaving the island for good.

To help pass the time, Charlotte began spending part of
each day in the kitchen, encouraging
Cristof
to teach her the preparation and cooking of Greek dishes. At first, he was not
 
enthusiastic, but gradually, as he became interested in his
subject, the lessons became a regular thing. Charlotte learned
how to prepare an egg and chicken soup, which
Cristof
told
her was a national dish, she made
moussaka
,
and her own
favourites
,
loukmades
,
which were little balls of dough, fried,
and served with cinnamon and castor sugar, and melted in the
mouth
.
She also learned a little more of the language, and
presiding
Cristof
spoke slowly enough, she could almost
understand what he was saying.

The worst times came at night, when she wandered rest
lessly about the corridors of the villa, dreading the moment
when she
would
have to go to bed. Doctor
Leonides
, the
Faulkner family physician, now made regular visits to the
island to check on her health, and he had given her some tablets to help her sleep. But something inside her rejected that artificial sedition. Instead she read, often until the early hours,
and finally fell asleep from exhaustion, her book sometimes
stillll
in her hands. Maria disapproved of this practice, but there
was nothing she could do about it.

Even so, generally, Charlotte's health was good. She ate,
because she had to, she got plenty of exercise, and although she
was putting on weight, it was all in the right places. Charlotte thought it was a curiously unreal time, her stomach swelling
out of all proportion, and an innate disbelief inside her that she could actually be having a baby. Then the baby moved and after that Charlotte didn't question any more.

There were times when she felt an intolerable longing to
see Alex. No matter how she tried to erase it, his image was
constantly in her thoughts. It was not unnatural in the circumstances.
Living here in his house, on his island.
How
could she be expected to forget?
she
asked herself bitterly.
Sleeping in the bed where he had taught her the secrets of her
own deep emotional nature. But, she suspected, no matter
where she went she would feel the same. Particularly after the
baby began to stretch and awaken to an awareness of its own
strength.

Towards the end of March, when the winds were subsiding
and the island was beginning to blossom with all the flowers of
spring, she had a visitor. From time to time,
Vittorio
or
Dimitrios
had visited the villa bringing news of Alex's
whereabouts and checking that all was well, but when the helicopter appeared on the horizon, Charlotte could feel her
nerves stretching to screaming pitch.

But she was sitting on the patio, apparently quite calm,
when it landed, and she hid her shattering disappointment
when George
Constandis
climbed out of the cabin.

She was unaware of the change in her until George commented upon it. Three months had put a bloom on her skin,
a shine on her hair, and a generous coating of flesh over her
bones. The finely stitched smock she was wearing over a pair
of old denim jeans barely concealed the swelling roundness of
her stomach, but George thought she had never looked
lovelier.

When Tina had served them with chocolate, and she had
assured him that she was well, she said urgently: "Why have
you come, George? Is - is anything wrong?"

George's expression twisted wryly. "I could take that the
wrong way, you know. Am I not welcome here?"

"Charlotte sighed "You know you are. It - it's
marvellous
to see another face after all these weeks. But..."

"I know. You're worried in case I'm here for some other reason."

Charlotte nodded. "Yes."

George looked down into his cup. "You want to know how
Alex
 
is
?”

"Of course."
Her response was revealingly eager.

George hesitated. "Alex - well, he is in London."

"London?"

"Yes."

"He's well?"

"He's not ill, if that's what you mean."

Charlotte frowned. "What does that mean?"

George drank some of his chocolate, aware of her impatien
ce as she waited for him to answer her question. "It means,"
he said at last, "that I am not happy about him."