Man Without a Heart (9 page)

'I meant to, but I decided I'd rather dine at home.' Nothing more than that, but Jill's heart was light because it seemed that he wanted to be alone with her, and she was recalling once again those pleasant evenings they had spent together in the beginning of their marriage.

They drove back through olive groves and woodlands, through villages and hamlets whose bright, colour-washed houses nestled in gardens overflowing with flowers. Sunset was fast approaching, and when at length they reached the coast road, the sea was a painted mirror fringed by palms and casuarinas waving gently in the breeze. The phantom shapes of the clouds, banked motionless above the horizon, were spangled with crimson and gold and muted rose-pearl, colours stolen from the dying sun.

Adam drove for another couple of miles and then turned off the road to take a much narrower lane, and Jill turned instinctively, a question in her glance. 'There's a rather nice little
tavern
along here,' Adam informed her casually, 'where we can get an excellent meal.'

'You want to eat out?' Jill felt the warm swift flow of blood through her veins. To dine out with
Adam, in this romantic setting.
.. 'You said there'd be a meal ready at home.'

'So I did, but I've changed my mind.' Unfathomable the tone, and Jill had the impression that he was hiding something from her, something he did not want to admit even to himself. Was he beginning to care? If so, she could understand his not wanting to admit it because of the complications it could cause regarding his plans for his marriage to Julia and the merger he wanted to effect. 'You'd like to dine out, wouldn't you?' he added, steering the car round a tight bend to bring it into the delightful little bay which Jill had already discerned through the trees. The main lights from the taverna shone out onto the fine ribbed sand, pink and green and amber.

'Yes,' answered Jill at once, jumping from the car as soon as he had brought it to a stop. 'What a beautiful place this is! Off the beaten track. How did you find it?'

'It's rather well-known actually,' Adam told her, easing his long, lean body from the driver's seat with a sort of feline grace. 'At this time it's always very quiet, but in about two hours' time it'll be crowded, mainly with locals. Not many tourists manage to find the Marie Monte.'

'Is that what it's called?' Jill's appreciative gaze absorbed the impressive setting of the quaint little taverna, right in the circle of the bay, its tables arranged beneath vine-clothed pergolas with tiny coloured lights scattered among the foliage. 'It's something out of a fairytale!' She continued to stare, thrilled by the spectacle of crimson sea and peach-tinted shore, of palm fronds alight, with golden sun-glow, of mountains ranged in mauve and purple and lilac-blue. 'Oh, Adam, I'm so glad you brought me here!'

He stood beside her, tall and distinguished, his finely chiselled features an indefinable mask, an unfathomable quality in the depths of his eyes. Jill stared unblinkingly at him, vitally conscious of a tense atmosphere, of the sparks of electricity that seemed to be flashing back and forth between them. It was a profound moment, and Jill thought that if he had taken her in his arms and kissed her it would have been so right. But he merely said, an unexpected roughness in his voice, 'Come on; let's have our meal before the rush begins.'

They ate dolmades first, then lobster and fried potatoes, finishing off with a dessert of miniature oranges crystallised and topped with walnuts. Coffee and liqueurs followed, and they lingered over them, watching the sunset and listening to the soft, sad strains of the bouzouki music, which seemed to be in harmony with the last dying rays of the sun. The air all around suddenly became heady with exotic scents-musky juniper and myrtle, passionflowers and roses and night-scented stock.

Not far from the shore, little fishing calques were silent and still, as were the graceful white-sailed yachts moored to a jetty at the far end of the bay. So peaceful, so magical, and for Jill, caught in the mystery of this island of the East, there was a sort of timeless unreality about the atmosphere that seemed to penetrate into her very heart, and she glanced at her husband, a quivering rush of hope and optimism welling up within her, for surely he, too, was affected by it all, by the romance of the situation and the setting.

They came away from the cafe at last, and to Jill's delight Adam suggested a stroll along the beach. To her further delight, he took her hand in his, curling his fingers around it in a possessive, masterful way. Darkness had fallen, with moon and stars taking over to provide a silver light where gold had been so short a time ago.

'This is a wonderful island.' Jill's words came softly, tenderly, and she felt his hand tighten, his fingers sliding between hers. 'I shall miss it when I leave.' She hadn't really meant to say anything like that; it came to her lips unbidden, and she looked up at him, unaware of the appeal in her eyes, of the convulsive movement of her lips.

'You'll not be leaving yet,' he prophesied.

'Mother's health is giving me no cause for anxiety at present.'

'She's happy, that's why.'

Adam nodded in agreement. 'Thanks to you, Jill,' was his quiet rejoinder. 'I rather think she would not have been quite so happy if I had married your sister.' So dispassionate was the tone in which he spoke about marriage that Jill's spirits sank, her optimism dissolved by his attitude of indifference. Wishful thinking would get her nowhere, and she must discipline herself, concentrating on what was possible rather than yearning for something totally out of reach. The sooner she fixed it in her mind that Adam would never let anything change his plans for the merger, the better off she would be. Besides, she had lived in Greece long enough to know that the engagement pact, cemented by a solemn church service attended only by close relatives, was almost as binding as the actual marriage itself. Neither Adam nor Julia would ever break it.

'Shall we turn back?' Jill's voice was flat; she wanted to get home, away from this scene of magic and romance. 'It must be getting late.'

'You know very well it isn't late,' returned Adam in some surprise. 'Don't you like being out here?'

'I ...' Tears were close, and for the first time she found herself wondering how long she could stay with her husband, loving him as she did, knowing he would never love her. 'I feel rather tired, Adam.'

'Very well.' They had reached the end of the bay, where further progress was blocked by a rocky cliff jutting out into the sea. Instead of turning immediately, Adam stood looking down at her for a long moment in silence before saying, 'What is it, Jill?'

She glanced around, and the words she uttered came before she could stop them. 'The magic of it all, Adam. It ... it does things to you-to m-me, I mean...' Her voice trailed away on a husky note as she glanced around again, every cell in her body alive to the romantic atmosphere-the solemn silence broken only by the lapping of the waves on the sand, and the music, soft and almost indistinct, drifting out from the cafe. The air was fresh and sweet along the shore, the silhouettes of the palms clean and vivid against the moon-flushed sky.

The solitude was absolute, the tranquillity complete. Jill stared up into her husband's face and wondered why it appeared so grim. 'I'm just affected by this place,' she went on apologetically. 'Take no notice of me.'

'Do you suppose that I am not affected too?' he asked, amazing her.

'Are you affected, Adam? Do you find it ... compelling, sort of?'

'I certainly feel compelled to kiss you,' he stated, and promptly drew her into his arms, pulling her close against the hardness of his
chest. His lips found hers, gently lubricating as they moved slowly, sensuously over hers. She lifted her arms to slide them round his neck, succumbing to the delightful languor of mind-resting, while her love swelled within her and she was sad because she dared not tell him about it. His kisses became more ardent, his hands rovingly possessive, and she was lost in a whirlpool of passion that was as savage as it was tender.

'I wonder if you know just what you do to me?' Adam's voice was hoarse, throaty, his breathing uneven; she could feel the mad pulsation of his heartbeats and wondered if he could feel the throbbing intensity of her own heart. 'Let's go home,' he whispered against her throat. 'This is no place to be when we're both feeling like this.'

Jill quivered against him, then drew away, her love a fiery furnace, scorching her, unbearable. Her eyes were far too bright as they stared into his, but either he did not see or he chose to ignore the evidence of an emotion that was outside her passion, even though related to it.

'Yes,' she returned in a rather flat little voice, 'let's go home.'

They were on their way very early the following morning, Adam's mother having telephoned the previous night to say she had decided not to attend the wedding after all. Adam was troubled, as was to be expected, but she immediately reassured him. She was quite well, but suffering a little from the heat, and so she had wisely elected to stay indoors and take advantage of the air-conditioning.

Dawn had streaked across the sky as Jill and Adam were having breakfast, and the landscape was still a panoply of matchless beauty, a mosaic of colour and form, with the air crystal clear and the roads almost free of traffic.

'It's like having the world all to ourselves!' exclaimed Jill, feeling happy at the prospect of another day with her husband. He seemed to be all hers, at least for a few hours, and she was determined to make the most of it.

A smile had touched the corners of his mouth at her words, and her heart leapt at the attractiveness of him, as it invariably did when he smiled or laughed.

'It's certainly very pleasant to drive at this time of the day.' Adam was sitting totally relaxed at the wheel of the car, following the same route as yesterday. On their arrival at the village, Jill made a swift survey of the activities, which were in full swing already, as the ceremony was set for eleven o'clock. The black-bearded priest had arrived and was performing the age-old tradition of shaving the bridegroom for the last time as a single man. 'Did you know of this custom?' asked Adam. Jill shook her head. 'No; it's all novel and extremely interesting to me.' The bridesmaids had been finishing the decorating of the mattress, and now they were trouping off to get the bride ready for the ceremony. The bride's father appeared and stood looking down at the mattress. Meanwhile, the shaving finished, the
koumbari,
making a great deal of noise, accompanied the groom to the house of his grandmother, where he would get dressed to go to church.

'What are they going to do now?' Jill's eyes were wide with puzzlement, for a baby was being carried toward the mattress. 'They're going to bounce the poor little fellow on it,' Adam laughed. 'Wait for his protests. Our children can bellow, as you must already know. It has to be a boy, by the way.' And he did scream, but everyone else laughed. 'Poor little thing!'

'He likes it!' said someone. 'It is for fertility!'

'It's all very Eastern,' commented Jill a few minutes later, when, money having been sprinkled on the mattress, it was rolled up and the bride's father heaved it onto his shoulder and carried it to the dowry house, followed by laughter and noise and a hundred or more tramping feet.

'There's something charming about it all, though,' was Adam's comment. 'Too many of the old customs are being lost nowadays.'

Jill said nothing, and soon the actual bridal procession was forming, the radiant bride carrying flowers, her bridesmaids holding enormous candles decorated with wide ribbon bows. The actual ceremony was hilarious, the service being repeatedly brought to a stop by people wanting to take snapshots. The smiling priest always obliged, standing between the couple, posing over and over again while cameras clicked from all over the church. People talked throughout the ceremony, and Jill thought that few had really heard anything of the actual service. At the end a wide ribbon was passed from one of the best men to another until they had all signed it. It would be kept as a souvenir by the couple. The banquet was set out on long trestle tabl
es beneath the citrus trees in
the orchard, but at first the couple took no part. Afterward, they distributed wedding biscuits to the guests; then began the ritual dance, when the guests came forward one by
one to pin money on the couple's clothes. The dancing went on for some time, until, by the time it was finished, their clothes were almost covered with paper money. Finally the bridegroom thanked the guests for coming, and soon after that Jill and Adam left.

'What a day!' she exclaimed. 'And what a mountain of presents they had!'

'A roomful.'

'Yes, I know. They couldn't put them all on display.'

'From what I saw, they hadn't unpacked half of them.'

'I wouldn't have missed it for anything.'

Her husband slanted her a glance. 'Not even for a day out with your ... er ... Gilbert?' he asked 'sardonically. She shook her head, but frowned too, not at all happy at the way the introduction of Gilbert into the conversation had broken the tranquillity between them. 'What did you do with yourself?' Jill asked Gilbert when, the following morning, they met at the car park. 'I went to the archaeological site at the end of the island and collected some potsherds to take back to school. I shall probably do a project on archaeology when I get back.' Gilbert was driving the car toward one of the white-sanded beaches where he and Jill were going to spend the morning swimming and sunbathing. She was restless, her thoughts repeatedly returning to the past two days and the pleasure of being with her husband. Was it wise to stay with him? she asked herself. Her love was strengthening with every day that passed, and the longer she stayed, the worse the break was going to be. Yet how could she leave when Mrs. Doxaros' happiness depended on her staying?