All The Fire Page 5

  ‘Have you considered when you will leave?’ Dimitri asked suddenly, changing the subject completely.

  Joanne lifted her shoulders. ‘Of course not. It’s much too soon to think of such a thing. Why?’

  He drank some of his wine and would have poured more into her glass, but she put her hand over it, shaking her head. ‘I leave England at the end of next week,’ he remarked. ‘Is that too soon for you?’

  Joanne’s eyes were wide with surprise. ‘The - the end of next week!’ she faltered incredulously. ‘But I never imagined anything so - so - precipitate! Yesterday you didn’t give me to understand that this was a matter of such urgency.’

  Dimitri replaced his glass on the table, fingering its stem. ‘Perhaps I should be honest with you,’ he said slowly, and Joanne frowned.

  ‘What do you mean? Honest? Haven’t you been honest with me?’

  ‘I have been—how would you put it?’ He drew his brows together scowlingly, and Joanne realized it was the first time she had known him unable to put his thoughts into English. Then he nodded, with some satisfaction. ‘Diplomatic, that is it,’ he averred firmly.

  Joanne sighed. ‘In what way?’

  He shrugged. ‘Do not look so apprehensive, Miss Nicolas. It is simply that your father wished - hoped - that you might desire the opportunity to escape from England for a while until the memories of your mother were less painful to you. He suggested that a holiday with him might be welcome at this time.’

  ‘I see.’ Joanne pushed the remains of her meal aside, her appetite evaporating in uncertainty. ‘You didn’t tell me that yesterday.’

  ‘No. I considered it essential that you should decide on the most important aspect first; that of actually accepting your father’s invitation. I did not want to cloak the invitation with unnecessary details.’

  Joanne sipped her wine rather tremulously. Things were beginning to move too fast for her. Already she was wishing she had not agreed to accept her father’s invitation without gaining Jimmy’s support, particularly after discovering that Dimitri Kastro had never expected her to refuse. And now - this! It was unnerving.

  ‘Even if I wanted to leave so quickly, I couldn’t possibly,’ she exclaimed. ‘I must give them notice at the practice in order to find a replacement.’

  Dimitri lay back in his seat regarding her strangely. ‘The matter of your work you can leave in my hands,’ he replied summarily. ‘I guarantee to supply your employers with an adequate replacement within forty-eight hours.’

  Joanne’s expression was ludicrous. ‘You can’t be serious!’

  ‘Why not? There are agencies in London capable of supplying slave girls for homesick Arabian oil barons!’ She hunched her shoulders helplessly. No matter what she said, what protestations she might make, he vaunted her at every turn.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said now. ‘I just don’t know.’

  She straightened as the waiter came to take their order for a dessert, and she made no demur when Dimitri ordered a strawberry gateau for them both.

  For the rest of the meal they were silent, Joanne busy with her thoughts and unwilling to invite any more confrontations. How could she leave at the end of next week? What would Jimmy say? What reasonable excuse could she make for her actions? Unless he conceded that the sooner she went to Greece and got it over with, the better. She wished there was someone she could turn to for advice. But apart from Mrs. Thwaites she would get no encouragement from anyone, of that she was certain, and Jimmy’s parents were likely to regard her actions as nothing short of thoughtless. She was being drawn two ways at one and the same time, and she didn’t know which was right.

  Dimitri Kastro ordered coffee and cognac, and then said: ‘Without wanting to appear discourteous, Miss Nicolas, I should tell you that your expression is very revealing. You’re uncertain and distrustful, and you haven’t the strength of your own convictions.’

  Joanne sighed. ‘You must agree - I have a problem.’

  He lit a cheroot slowly and exhaled the pleasant aroma in her direction. ‘The problem is of your own making,’ he commented shrewdly. ‘Deep inside you want to go. That is natural. Don’t imagine all difficult situations can be resolved by deciding what is wrong and what is right. It is only your conscience invading your subconscious that arouses self- doubt.’

  Joanne looked through the arched window at the street beyond. On a dull day, the sun scarcely dispersing the heavy clouds that hung over the steeple of St. Stephen’s church, Oxhampton was not an inspiring sight and she wondered with perspicacity what her father must have thought of her mother for wanting to stay here when all his instincts, his yearnings, must have been towards a warmer, sunnier land.

  Had he subjugated his desires to her only to find her wanting in other respects? What had driven him to give up his wife and family? If he were the unfeeling tyrant her mother had made him out to be, why had he continued to send her money, and why had he sent Dimitri Kastro to find his daughter now that her mother was dead? These were only a few of the questions that tormented Joanne’s mind, and no amount of soul-searching could dispel her desire to know the truth.

  Now, she said with feeling: ‘But should one follow what is after all one’s instinct? Instincts are primitive things, but we believe ourselves civilized.’

  Dimitri rose to his feet. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘Let us continue this discussion in the lounge.’

  Joanne glanced at her watch and saw with amazement that it was after two o’clock. ‘I - I really ought to be going,’ she exclaimed hastily. ‘I have heaps to do at home. I hadn’t time to do anything before I came to meet you. I’m afraid I slept in.’

  Dimitri’s smile was sardonic. ‘Then have dinner with me this evening,’ he suggested swiftly.

  Joanne glanced at him. ‘I’m afraid that’s impossible,’ she said, with decision. ‘I promised to go to Jimmy’s this evening. His parents are expecting me.’

  Dimitri shrugged. ‘Very well. I suggest you consider all that we have discussed over the week-end, and I will contact you again at the beginning of next week.’

  ‘I shall be back at work,’ she reminded him.

  ‘So you will. Very well, I shall contact you on Sunday evening. Do you have a telephone?’

  Joanne reluctantly gave him the number, and then preceded him out of the restaurant. In the reception hall, she stopped him, and said: ‘Don’t - don’t come with me.’

  He shrugged. ‘Very well. You don’t want me to run you home?’

  ‘Thank you, but no. The neighbours would talk.’

  ‘Don’t be so suburban, Miss Nicolas,’ he remarked harshly, and without another word he walked away, entering the lift without further comment. Joanne stood for a moment after he had left her feeling a sense of chill invade her. She was not looking forward to confronting Jimmy and now that Dimitri Kastro had left her she felt without determination to carry it through. Maybe it would have been easier to ask him to come to Jimmy’s with her this evening, supporting her decision to go to Greece. But that would have seemed cowardly somehow, and besides, Jimmy would not have appreciated her lack of tact. It was no use. She had to decide once and for all that she was going and take the necessary steps to accomplish the fact. It didn’t matter if it was next week or next month, ultimately the decision was still hers, and ultimately Jimmy would present difficulties.

  That evening she went to the Lorrimers’ with many misgivings, aware that Jimmy would expect her to have evaded any certain decisions until they had discussed it Once more. But it didn’t matter what he said, she had to go and nothing he could say could deter her from her objective. At least, that was what she told herself, over and over again.

  Mr. and Mrs. Lorrimer were as welcoming as usual. Mrs. Lorrimer liked her and considered she would make Jimmy a good wife. Joanne had looked forward to the time when she would be Mrs. Lorrimer’s daughter-in-law, for Jimmy was an only child, like herself, and the Lorrimers had always wanted a daughter. Mr. Lorrimer was the owner of a small bu
t thriving garage, and Jimmy was in his father’s employ. Eventually, when Mr. Lorrimer retired, he would take over the business, and he had plans for expansion which Joanne had supported enthusiastically. Their future had always seemed so secure, somehow, a steady relationship that would deepen with the ties that marriage could bring. And if she had never written that letter to her father, she would never have experienced this sense of betrayal that now seemed to engulf her whole being as she sat drinking coffee with her in-laws-to-be, conscious that Jimmy must have avoided telling them anything about what had happened on the afternoon of the funeral.

  Joanne sighed, and glanced at the comfortable appointments of the Lorrimers’ lounge. The house adjoined the garage and when Mr. Lorrimer retired she and Jimmy were to move in here. His parents intended buying a small bungalow for their retirement, and eventually this lounge would be theirs, hers and Jimmy’s. She wished he had told his parents. It would have been easier to face their antagonism somehow than to sit here under false pretences.

  Finally, Jimmy brought the subject up and when Joanne would have tried to explain he gave his parents his point of view. Mrs. Lorrimer looked disturbed, glancing at her husband anxiously, and saying:

  ‘But, Joanne, you can’t go away at this time! It’s only twelve weeks to the wedding and now that - well - you’re alone, naturally Dad and I intended to take on most of the responsibilities.’

  Joanne shook her head contritely. ‘Honestly, Mrs. Lorrimer, I didn’t expect this to happen when I wrote to my father. But I did feel he had the right to know that my mother was dead.’

  ‘But why?’ Mrs. Lorrimer went over the old arguments about him not bothering with her all these years, and Joanne sat in silence, unable to deny anything without proof. Instead, she waited until they had finished and then she said: ‘Well, I think you ought to know, I am going!’ She bit her lip. ‘At the end of next week!’

  Jimmy got to his feet, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets and glaring at her with angry eyes. ‘You mean you’ve told this Kastro man you’re definitely going?’

  ‘Yes.’ Joanne pressed the palms of her hands to her hot cheeks.

  Mr. Lorrimer lit his pipe thoughtfully. ‘And what about the wedding?’ he asked gruffly.

  Joanne sighed. ‘Well, I don’t expect to be away long. Just a couple of weeks, I expect.’

  Mr. Lorrimer nodded, and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, that doesn’t sound unreasonable, Jimmy,’ he murmured quietly.

  Jimmy hunched his shoulders and marched about the room like a caged animal. ‘Not to you, perhaps,’ he muttered angrily.

  ‘It isn’t unreasonable!’ exclaimed Joanne, seizing on Mr. Lorrimer’s support like a drowning man clasps a piece of straw. ‘And I can’t refuse, can I?’

  Mrs. Lorrimer looked even less pleased. ‘You could think of Jimmy,’ she said sharply. ‘How would you like him dashing off to the Mediterranean with another woman?’

  Joanne spread her hands. ‘It’s not like that!’ she exclaimed. ‘Mr. Kastro is a distant relative of my father’s. He really isn’t involved.’

  ‘Well, who is he, then?’ asked Mrs. Lorrimer irritably. ‘What does he do?’

  Joanne sipped her coffee. ‘He’s a biochemist, actually.’

  ‘A biochemist!’ Jimmy sounded scathing. ‘What’s that?’

  Joanne sighed. ‘I’m not entirely certain. It’s something to do with the study of living organisms. Anyway, I think he’s in England on business, and my father used his being here to his advantage.’

  ‘If you ask me, it’s a queer business!’ said Mrs. Lorrimer, shaking her head. ‘And I don’t like it, Joanne. A young girl like you, going off to some Grecian island with a man you neither know nor are related to. It’s just a pity your mother died as she did. If you and Jimmy had been already married, you wouldn’t have had any of these flighty ideas!’

  ‘But, Mrs. Lorrimer, he is my father, after all. That’s what this is all about. Not Dimitri Kastro.’

  Mrs. Lorrimer sniffed and without another word left the room. Joanne felt a weight of conscience like a burden on her shoulders. It was exactly as Dimitri Kastro had said: her conscience was invading those regions of her mind that welcomed excitement. She looked hopefully at Mr. Lorrimer, but he seemed indifferent now to her silent pleas for support. Instead, he got up too, and said:

  ‘I’ve got to go and ring Masterson. He promised me those piston rings tonight without fail.’

  After he had gone Joanne rose to her feet. ‘I’m going, Jimmy,’ she said tightly. ‘I - I can’t stand any more of this.’

  Blindly, she went to get her coat from the hall and without saying good-bye she left the house. But she had only gone a few yards when Jimmy’s rakish sports car came cruising along beside her. ‘Come on, Jo,’ he said, persuasively. ‘Get in.’

  ‘No.’ Joanne ignored him.

  ‘Joanne!’ Jimmy’s voice was angry. ‘Come on. I’ll take you home.’

  Joanne turned, hesitated, and then walked across and slid in beside him, looking at him in the semi-gloom from the street lights. Jimmy halted the car and turned towards her, sliding his arm along the back of her seat. ‘Oh, Joanne,’ he whispered emotionally, and pulling her to him he pressed his mouth down on hers.

  For a moment she resisted, and then she responded, winding her arms about his neck eagerly, willing him to make her forget the problems that were torturing her brain. His lovemaking was warm and gentle and embracing, and she relaxed in his arms and said: ‘I’m sorry, Jimmy.’

  Jimmy sighed and regarded her resignedly. ‘So am I. But as you seem determined to go, I can’t let you go without telling you how much I love you and need you. Oh, I know I’m a fool, but - well, there it is.’

  Joanne cupped his face in her hands and felt a choking sense of betrayal. Jimmy was so sweet, so gentle. Was this weight of conscience she felt partly caused by the realization that she was actually becoming excited by the prospects of this trip, by the sense of escape from the ordinary things of life?

  ‘I’m glad,’ she said, now. ‘I didn’t want to go in anger.’

  ‘And you leave next week?’

  Joanne nodded. ‘Yes. Next week-end.’

  Jimmy sighed. ‘Well, I guess there’s nothing more to be said,’ he commented resignedly. ‘I don’t like it, but if it’s what you want ...’

  As he drove her home, Joanne couldn’t help but allow that Jimmy was unable to influence her if her mind was made up, just as Dimitri Kastro had said.

  ‘Oh, damn Dimitri Kastro,’ she whispered inaudibly. He knew altogether too much.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The quayside at Piraeus dreamed in the afternoon sunlight. For a time the noisy bustling activity of the port was silenced and a somnolent heat haze hung over the yachts moored in the harbour. The air was incredibly clear and the brilliance of white sails against an azure background was quite dazzling. The faint swell rocked the boats gently, and sucked coolly along the stone wharf.

  Joanne ran a hand round the back of her neck under her hair, feeling how moist her skin now was. She was glad she had taken Dimitri’s advice and changed into a cotton shift at the airport, although she had protested at the time. She realized now that in the jersey suit she had been wearing for the flight out from England she would have been stifled.

  She glanced at Dimitri, walking along the quayside beside her. He had shed the jacket of his immaculate navy suit and was carrying it over one shoulder. With the collar of his blue and cream shirt loosened he looked completely relaxed and Joanne knew he was glad to be back in Greece.

  For her, the day had been a mass of conflicting impressions. Since leaving London that morning a vague feeling of incredibility had possessed her, combined with her natural excitement. But everything seemed to have happened so quickly and it was difficult to keep abreast of her thoughts. During the past ten days Dimitri Kastro seemed to have taken over her life entirely with an impersonality that was in itself unnerving. Once her decision to accompany
him was taken he had become wholly businesslike, dealing with her problems with single-minded expertise.

  The woman who had been appointed as her deputy at the practice had taken over three days ago and if she was not as conversant with the patients as Joanne had been she was extremely quick and alert and very capable. Dr. Hastings and his partners would have few complaints with Geraldine Lacey, and Joanne thought it was rather unnerving to realize that she was not as indispensable as she had thought.

  The Lorrimers presented a more complex problem. Mrs. Lorrimer refused to be reasonable, and while her husband might sympathize with Joanne’s views, he was in all decency bound to support his wife. There were times when Joanne felt like calling the whole thing off, even at this late date, but to confront Dimitri Kastro with such an argument was unthinkable. So she did nothing to obstruct his plans and now she was here, aware of a sense of unreality.

  A chauffeur-driven limousine had awaited them at the airport which served Athens and they had driven directly to Piraeus from there. Joanne had been a little disappointed that she was not to see the capital, but she had kept her thoughts to herself, deciding that Dimitri Kastro would not respond to any appeals from her. Besides, he had informed her that a streamer would transport her to Dionysius and possibly it would be departing quite soon. She refused to think about her eventual destination. When she contemplated meeting her father and his second wife her knees quaked alarmingly, and there was a sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Their luggage was still in the car which stood at the end of this quay and later it would be transferred to the ship. Joanne looked through her dark glasses with interest at the various vessels, hoping whichever one they were to board would not be too small. Her unsteady insides might not stand up to too much swell and she had no wish to make a fool of herself in front of Dimitri Kastro.