All The Fire Page 18

  It was really quite an exciting evening, and Alaister ran her home in the early hours of the morning in his sleek sports convertible. However, although she was aware that Alaister expected to be invited in for coffee, Joanne demurred, saying she was tired, and agreed to give him her phone number so that he might call her the following week. She went up the path, swinging her bag quite gaily, unconcerned that it was still raining and that it was almost three a.m.

  Alaister waited until he saw her insert her key in the lock, and then he called ‘Good night’ and drove away. However, just as Joanne turned the key a shadow detached itself from the gloom beside the front door, and she caught her breath in a terrified gasp.

  ‘Who - who’s there!’ she cried tremulously, and then her legs turned to jelly as she saw who the intruder was. ‘Dimitri!’

  Dimitri’s face was hard and angry, and without waiting for her invitation he leant past her and turned the key in the lock, thrusting open the door and thrusting her inside unceremoniously. Then he closed the door firmly, turning the key against any further intruders. Joanne fumbled for the light switch and turned the light on swiftly, looking at Dimitri with uneasy anticipation.

  However, Dimitri obviously had no intention as yet of satisfying her curiosity, for he threw off the black leather coat he was wearing over a dark suit, and strode down the hall, looking into the lounge before he opened the kitchen door and finding the switch flooded it with light. The Venetian blinds at the windows were not drawn and Joanne hoped no one would see him here at this hour. She could imagine the speculative gossip that would arouse. But why was he here anyway, and how dared he imagine he could march in here and simply take over without offering a word of explanation?

  Shedding her coat, she walked slowly after him. ‘Now, look here,’ she began awkwardly. ‘Have you any idea what time it is?’

  ‘Have I not?’ he muttered bleakly. ‘Come on, make some coffee! Your climate isn’t exactly conducive to a healthy constitution!’

  A thought struck Joanne suddenly, and a chill touched her heart. ‘Why - why are you here?’ she asked tautly. ‘It’s - it’s my father, isn’t it? Is he - is he—’

  ‘He’s not dead, if that’s what you’re trying to say!’ said Dimitri coldly. ‘Although much you care!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Joanne stared at him impatiently.

  ‘As if you didn’t know!’ snapped Dimitri contemptuously.

  ‘But I don’t know!’ insisted Joanne hotly. ‘For heaven’s sake, have the decency to tell me why you’ve come.’

  ‘All in good time,’ replied Dimitri, looking into cupboards. ‘Do you have any goddamned coffee?’

  ‘Only the instant variety,’ Joanne replied tersely. ‘Here - let me do it!’ She reached into a cupboard and extracted a jar, turning to put on the kettle. Dimitri’s presence made the kitchen seem minute and being close to him like this was almost more than she could bear.

  Dimitri stepped aside, unbuttoning his jacket and putting his hands on his hips, standing feet astride watching her. She felt sure he was deliberately trying to unnerve her, and after she had added coffee to two earthenware beakers, she turned to him and said:

  ‘Why couldn’t you have come at a reasonable hour?’

  Dimitri’s dark eyes narrowed. ‘I have been here since nine-thirty,’ he returned bleakly.

  ‘Waiting here?’ she exclaimed incredulously.

  ‘Well, obviously not continually,’ he remarked dryly. ‘I went and had some food, booked in at a hotel, rang this number several times and finally took up vigil.’

  Joanne leaned back against the sink unit. ‘I can’t imagine what I’ve done to deserve such constancy!’ she observed, with assumed sarcasm.

  ‘Can’t you?’ Dimitri regarded her coldly. ‘Didn’t Andrea’s cable mean a thing to you? Or are you naturally not the anxious type?’

  ‘Andrea’s cable?’ echoed Joanne. ‘What cable? I got no cable.’

  ‘Oh, now that I won’t believe!’ muttered Dimitri angrily. ‘Aons! I waited outside the telecommunications office in Athens while she sent it!’

  ‘I received no cable,’ Joanne insisted tremulously. ‘What - what was this cable about? My father?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then what did it say?’ cried Joanne, in exasperation. ‘For goodness’ sake, can’t you see I’m telling you the truth?’ She felt near to tears. This was too much.

  Dimitri chewed his lower lip. ‘Your father had an unexpected attack a week ago. He was taken to the Hospital of the Sisters of St. Saviour in Athens. It was touch and go, but apparently your father is stronger than we imagined. He is much better.’

  Joanne stared at him. ‘And Andrea said she sent me a cable?’

  Dimitri lifted his shoulders. ‘Who am I to believe?’ he asked bleakly.

  Joanne turned away bitterly. Of course he would believe Andrea. Why not? He had known her since they were children. She was the woman he wanted to marry. And certainly Andrea wanted him. So much so that she had risked ignoring sending Joanne this cable in case she did what was obviously expected of her and flew out to Greece. But her plans had not succeeded. When she had not arrived of her own accord her father must have sent Dimitri for her as he did once before.

  Pouring boiling water into the beakers, she said: ‘Cream and sugar?’ in a taut little voice.

  Dimitri shook his head. ‘I’ll take it black,’ he replied, taking out his case of cheroots and putting one between his teeth.

  Joanne handed him the beaker silently, then she said: ‘Shall we go into the lounge? It’s rather - cramped in here.’

  Brushing past him, she walked into the lounge, turning on the standard lamp beside the television. Then she seated herself on her chair by the fire, sipping her coffee slowly, warming her cold fingers round the beaker.

  Dimitri came in, but he did not sit down. Instead he wandered about the room picking up an ornament here, a photograph there; examining them and putting them down again. Obviously giving her time to digest what he had told her.

  Finally Joanne looked up at him helplessly. ‘Did - did my father ask for me?’ she asked awkwardly.

  ‘Naturally.’ Dimitri turned towards her, his eyes enigmatic. ‘You are his elder daughter, after all.’

  Joanne bent her head. ‘I didn’t know. As God’s my witness, I didn’t receive any cable!’

  Dimitri shrugged. ‘I’m forced to believe you,’ he said abruptly. ‘I don’t think even you could go out having a good time until this hour if you knew your father was possibly dying.’

  Thank you.’ Joanne was bitter. ‘Your condescension I can do without.’

  ‘Damn you, I was not being condescending. However, you must admit you seem to be living rather recklessly!’

  Joanne’s eyes widened. ‘You know nothing about me!’ she exclaimed. ‘If you must know, this is the first time I’ve been out until this hour for months and months. In fact, I can’t ever remember being so late before, except perhaps at New Year!’

  Dimitri gave an eloquent gesture. ‘It’s your affair, of course,’ he remarked harshly. ‘Just out of interest, though, how many men can you accommodate at one and the same time?’

  Joanne jumped to her feet, spilling some of her coffee on the hearth as she banged down her beaker. ‘Don’t you dare to criticize me, you - you - traitor!’ she stormed angrily. ‘I’ll live my life any way I choose, just as you do!’

  Dimitri gave her an insolently appraising glance. ‘You appear to be doing just that! Tell me, what is that poor idiot, Jimmy, doing right now? Tucked up in bed, I would hazard to guess. But where, I wonder! Why not here?’

  Joanne’s fingers stung across his cheek, reddening the flesh beneath the tan. Dimitri uttered an angry expletive, and grasping her waist, he jerked her towards him, his mouth seeking hers with cruel intensity. Joanne tried to free herself, but he was too strong for her, and after a few moments the heat of his body and the pressure of his mouth seduced her to submission. With a protestin
g sigh, she wound her arms round his neck and kissed him back, pressing herself against him until he was forced to push her away.

  ‘Dear God,’ he muttered, his fingers lingering on her neck, ‘don’t force me to do something we would both regret!’ He slid his hands down her chiffon-clad arms. ‘Do you have anything on under this thing?’ His tones were thickened with emotion.

  Joanne’s eyes were lazy. ‘Of course,’ she murmured huskily, and then, unable to prevent herself, she put her hands on his waist and went close to him again. ‘Dimitri!’ she said softly, ‘kiss me some more!’

  Dimitri clenched his fists for a moment, and then roughly disentangled himself. ‘For mercy’s sake, Joanne,’ he bit out savagely, ‘stop tormenting me!’

  Joanne looked at him curiously. ‘I? Torment you?’ she echoed, puzzled.

  Dimitri thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘Forget it!’ he snapped. ‘We have things to discuss. Now, can you come back to Greece for a couple of days? Matt wants to see you.’

  Joanne put her hands to her hair. ‘How can I?’ She gave a hopeless gesture. ‘I’ve only just settled back in at my job again!’

  Dimitri raked a hand through his hair. ‘I guess it is difficult,’ he muttered. ‘Anyway, I suppose this is a crazy time to be discussing this kind of thing.’

  Joanne stifled a yawn and nodded. ‘Why did you wait?’ she asked, puzzled by his strained attitude. ‘To ascertain that I knew?’

  Dimitri bent his head. ‘I guess after travelling all this way I wanted to be certain you were still living here,’ he said. Then he flicked back his cuff. ‘I’d better go.’

  Joanne thought for a moment, then she said: ‘Don’t go back to the hotel. Stay here.’

  Dimitri’s jaw tightened. ‘No, thanks.’

  Joanne’s colour heightened. ‘You needn’t sound so affronted. I wasn’t inviting you to sleep with me! I just thought it was mad for you to turn up at the hotel at four a.m.’

  Dimitri flexed his muscles tiredly, running a hand round the back of his neck. Then he studied her flushed face. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’d be grateful not to have to call a cab at this time of night.’

  Joanne half wished she had not been so impulsive. She had been foolish to suggest it, but now that he was here she didn’t want to let him go. The rest of his life was Andrea’s; couldn’t she take these few days without recrimination?

  Now she walked into the hall and said: ‘The spare room bed is made up. My neighbour’s niece was coming to stay for a few days and Mrs. Thwaites couldn’t put her up. Anyway, she says she might not come now, so you’re welcome to it. It’s the first on your right at the top.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Dimitri put a foot on the stairs and regarded her solemnly. ‘Do you trust me, Joanne?’

  Joanne swallowed hard. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Good.’ He gave her a faint smile and mounted the stairs two at a time.

  It was strange having a man in the house, thought Joanne, as she turned out the lights. She could hear him in the bathroom and presently she heard the spare room door open and close. It was comforting, too, after all these weeks of being alone, and her heart plunged achingly. If only, she thought unhappily, if only ...

  To her surprise she slept soundly and awoke to the unusual sound of someone whistling downstairs. She looked at the clock on her bedside table and blinked rapidly. It couldn’t really be half past ten already! Then she saw something else - a tray on which reposed a teapot and a cup together with milk and sugar. Dimitri must have brought it up while she slept and left it there. Immediately she felt hot all over. Whatever did she look like while she slept? Did she snore? Was her mouth open? Awful thoughts invaded her mind, and she slid hastily out of bed before they overwhelmed her. Putting on her quilted green housecoat, she left her bedroom and went downstairs, glancing at herself in the landing mirror as she passed, realizing that she had not stopped to comb her hair. As she reached the hall Dimitri came out of the kitchen carrying a beaker of coffee, the daily newspaper tucked under his arm.

  Joanne was immediately conscious of her untidy hair and state of undress, but she said: ‘Whatever must you think of me? I don’t usually sleep late like this. It’s just as well it’s Saturday. Have—have you been up long? Did - did you sleep all right?’

  Dimitri smiled. ‘The bed was very comfortable and I slept quite well. I’ve been up about an hour, that’s all.’

  Joanne nodded. ‘That’s all right then. I - I’ll go and get dressed.’

  ‘Stay and have some coffee,’ he invited lazily. ‘And don’t worry how you look; to me you’re always beautiful!’

  Joanne stared at him for a long searching moment, then twisted her hands together tightly. ‘Dimitri!’ she said uncomfortably. ‘I’ve got to know—are—are you going to marry Andrea, after - after my father is dead?’

  For a moment she thought he was furiously angry, for his face was set as though carved from stone. Then he seemed to gather himself, and replied: ‘Surely you know the answer to that yourself.’

  Joanne swallowed. ‘But I don’t. Andrea said—’ She halted.

  ‘Yes?’ Dimitri’s voice was ominous. ‘What did Andrea say?’

  Joanne supported herself against the banister. ‘She - she told me your parents had brought her up.’

  ‘So they did. She was orphaned in the war.’

  ‘Yes, so she said. But she went on to tell me that you had been a boy of seven at that time and had constituted yourself her protector.’

  Dimitri’s expression lightened for a moment. ‘That may be true. She was very small and very frightened. My sisters and myself were rather rudely robust.’ Then he frowned. ‘Go on.’

  Joanne sighed. ‘Well, she said that when you grew older things stayed the same. Then you went to school in England, and while you were away your parents introduced her to Matt and she foolishly allowed herself to marry him. But when you came back—’ Joanne’s voice broke.

  Dimitri caught her chin forcing her face up. ‘Yes? When I came back - what? What did she tell you?’

  Joanne bit her lips. ‘She said she realized what a fool she’d been, that you loved her, and that that was why you have never married—’

  ‘Oh, God!’ Dimitri raked a hand through his hair. ‘God!’

  Joanne stared at him, wild hope stirring her heart. ‘Isn’t it true?’ she asked tremulously. ‘Do you love her?’

  ‘Andrea was as my sister!’ he muttered violently. ‘She knows that! As God is my witness I have never given her to understand anything else!’

  Joanne ran her tongue over her dry lips. ‘I believe you,’ she whispered softly. ‘So now you must believe me. About the telegram ...’

  Dimitri’s eyes darkened. ‘Joanne,’ he groaned, putting out a hand and taking her wrist gently in his fingers. His thumb probed caressingly against the network of veins on the inner side of her wrist, and he bent his head and raised that vulnerable area to his mouth.

  But suddenly the doorbell rang, and Joanne went rigid. She looked helplessly at Dimitri and he released her hand abruptly, saying: ‘Do you want me to answer it?’

  Joanne moved into the lounge, nodding, and with a faint shrug of his shoulders he went to do so. Joanne hovered by the lounge door, her brows drawing together as she heard Jimmy’s voice.

  ‘Kastro!’ he exclaimed, in an astounded voice. Then, as though gathering his composure, he went on: ‘Where’s Joanne? I want to see her.’

  Joanne heard Dimitri merely open the door wider and she realized he had indicated that Jimmy should come in. Joanne smoothed her hair with trembling fingers, looking expectantly towards the door as Jimmy appeared in the aperture.

  ‘Jo!’ he exclaimed, his eyes eloquent with his feelings. He glanced back at Dimitri, lean and dark, dressed only in dark slacks and a dark blue shirt, opened at the throat to reveal the beginnings of the mat of hairs on his chest, and he turned a brilliant shade of tomato. Then he looked again at Joanne’s state of deshabille and she could tell exactly w
hat he was thinking. Without attempting to disabuse him, she said: ‘What do you want, Jimmy?’

  Jimmy seemed to find it difficult to begin, but finally he said: ‘I just called to tell you I’m going away this afternoon - for a week or so. To - to - Susan’s parents’ home - in Chelmsford.’ He chewed uncomfortably at his lower lip. ‘I thought you might wonder when I didn’t come round ...’

  Joanne glanced thoughtfully at Dimitri. Then she smiled. ‘It was kind of you to come and tell me, Jimmy,’ she said.

  Jimmy thrust his hands into his pockets, moving restlessly. ‘Yes, well, I just thought I’d let you know.’ He looked awkwardly at Dimitri. ‘Er—nothing awful has happened, has it? Mr. Nicolas? He’s okay, isn’t he?’

  Dimitri inclined his head. ‘Thank you, yes.’ He was cool.

  Jimmy nodded. ‘That’s good. Well, Joanne, I’d better go. I can see you’re - er – busy ...’

  ‘Yes.’ Joanne compressed her lips. ‘Have a good time!’

  ‘Thanks, I will.’ Jimmy moved his shoulders jerkily. ‘Well - good-bye, then. Good-bye, Kastro.’

  Dimitri merely nodded, and with another glance in his direction she accompanied Jimmy to the door. After he had gone, striding jerkily down the garden path, she closed the door and went back into the lounge. Dimitri was standing by the window, watching Jimmy climb into his old sports car. But he swung round as Joanne entered, and his face was thunderous.

  ‘My God! You’re cool!’ he muttered violently. He walked about, his hands thrust into his front thigh pockets, taking deep angry breaths. Then he halted and looked at her. ‘What are you trying to do to me?’ He lifted his shoulders bewilderedly. ‘Do you know why I invited him in here?’ He took a deep breath. ‘Because I knew he would see you as you are and jump to conclusions!’