A Secret Rebellion Page 7

  It was three days since she’d seen Linda. Three days since Beth had made an excuse about work piling up, and returned to Sullem Cross alone. She had left the morning after Alex Thiarchos had appeared at Mrs Adams’ house, and if he had returned the following day to see her he had been disappointed.

  But Linda’s appearance now was disturbing. What did she want? What could she want? Surely even Alex Thiarchos would not have been insensitive enough to ask for her address?

  Linda got up from the wall as Beth got out of the car. She was wearing a sleeveless vest and skin-tight jeans, and if she was pregnant there was no sign of it. But that meant nothing, reflected Beth tautly, running a nervous hand over the barely perceptible thickening of her own waistline. She didn’t look pregnant either—but she was.

  ‘Oh, Beth!’

  Linda’s greeting was hardly reassuring, and Beth’s nerves tightened like violin strings. What had Alex done? What had he said? For something told her that the apprehension she could see on Linda’s face had not been self-induced.

  ‘Linda!’ she exclaimed now, coming round the car to meet her with what she hoped was a suitable expression of concern. ‘Is something wrong? When did you get back?’

  ‘This morning,’ said Linda, answering her second question first. She sniffed ominously. ‘Can we go inside?’

  ‘What? Oh, yes. Yes, I suppose so.’

  As a rule, Beth didn’t invite students to her home. If she wanted to interview them, she used her office at the university, and seminars were usually held in one of the rooms in the English building. But this was an exceptional situation, she acknowledged, as she opened the gate and led the way into the house. Linda wouldn’t have come here unless she had something important to say.

  The house was hot and humid. Beth had locked all the doors and windows before she went out, and now she went straight down the hall and into the kitchen to open the back door.

  ‘Tea?’ she asked, after that was done, and a refreshing breeze was wafting the stuffiness away. She held up the kettle, and Linda, who had come to stand in the doorway, nodded indifferently.

  ‘If you like.’

  Beth caught her lower lip between her teeth, reflecting how their relationship had changed in a few short days. Ten days ago, Linda wouldn’t have dreamed of speaking so dismissively to her.

  She filled the kettle, set the teapot and cups on a tray, and then gestured towards the front of the house. ‘Shall we go into the sitting-room? We’ll be more comfortable in there. I’ll come back when the kettle boils.’

  ‘All right.’

  Linda turned back on herself and, walking a few yards along the hall, she indicated the second door on her left. ‘In here?’

  ‘Yes.’ Beth followed her into the pleasantly cool room she used most evenings. She pointed to a chintz-covered sofa. ‘Take a seat.’

  Linda did so, perching on the edge of the cushions, and although Beth would have preferred to stand she seated herself in the armchair opposite. It was important that she at least try and maintain a casual manner, and she managed a polite arching of her brows to indicate that she was ready to hear whatever it was that had brought the girl here.

  ‘I expect you think I’ve got a nerve coming here,’ said Linda at last, scrubbing the heels of her hands across her cheeks, and Beth wondered if that was good news or bad.

  ‘I—not at all,’ she demurred. ‘If there’s anything I can do—’

  ‘He wants me to go to Greece with him,’ burst out Linda abruptly, and after all the things she had been anticipating Beth felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

  ‘He does,’ she said, in a thready voice. And then, clearing her throat, ‘I assume you mean—Tony’s father.’

  ‘Of course.’ Linda sniffed again, and hunched her thin shoulders. ‘Oh, Beth, he’s insisting that I have to go and be introduced to all Tony’s relatives. He expects me to meet Tony’s grandfather. Constantine Thiarchos. Have you heard of him? He wants me to go and be—be vetted by a man Tony hated!’ And she burst into tears.

  Beth was speechless. For a moment, she just sat there, staring at Linda’s shaking shoulders, and then, gathering herself together, she got up from her chair and went to comfort her.

  ‘Aren’t you exaggerating?’ she exclaimed helplessly, putting a reassuring arm around her. ‘Linda, Tony can’t have hated his own grandfather!’

  ‘He did. He hated him.’ Linda turned towards her, and buried her face against Beth’s shoulder. ‘He drove Tony to do what he did. I’ll never forgive him for that.’

  Beth blinked. It was difficult to feel any conviction for what Linda was saying, but the girl was trembling so badly, she was forced to accept that she believed it anyway. But what did she mean? What was she accusing Tony’s grandfather of?

  ‘Look,’ she said, trying to calm the girl down, ‘I know how you feel. Tony’s accident—the funeral—well, it’s all been a lot for you to take. And I think you’ve done wonderfully well. You’ve handled yourself with dignity, and it’s bound to have been a strain. And it’s only natural that you should feel resentful—’

  ‘No!’ Linda lifted her head, smearing her hands across her tear-stained face. ‘No, you don’t understand. It’s not the way you think. I’m not just looking for someone to blame. What happened—happened. I don’t know if it was an accident or not. I may never know. But I do know that Constantine Thiarchos was always on Tony’s back. He expected too much of him. And—and Tony couldn’t take it.’

  Beth frowned. ‘But, Linda, he had you.’

  ‘Not to begin with, he didn’t. Tony and me—we’ve only known one another for about fifteen months.’ She moaned. ‘I wish I had known him before. Before—before those people got their claws into him.’

  Beth was confused. ‘But, Linda, they’re his family!’

  ‘What? Oh, no.’ Linda’s expression lightened for a moment. ‘I don’t mean the Thiarchoses.’ Her momentary trace of humour disappeared again. ‘I mean the people who were hounding him for money!’

  Beth stared at her. ‘Are you saying Tony owed someone some money?’ she echoed disbelievingly. ‘But, surely—’

  ‘He shouldn’t have been short of cash, right?’ Linda finished for her, and Beth inclined her head. ‘Well, he was. Oh, he had credit cards. He could buy anything he wanted with credit cards. But, unfortunately, the people he was dealing with didn’t deal in plastic!’

  Beth drew away to kneel on the carpet beside her. At last, she thought she was beginning to understand. And what was emerging didn’t bear thinking about.

  And Linda suddenly seemed to realise just who she was confiding this to. Dragging a tissue out of her pocket, she blew her nose and got to her feet. ‘I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Not yet.’ Pressing down on the arm of her chair, Beth came up beside her. ‘I think you’d better tell me who was hounding Tony for money.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It does matter.’ Beth took a steadying breath. ‘I think we’re talking drugs here, aren’t we, Linda? You’re telling me that Tony was an addict.’

  ‘No!’ Linda’s indignation was convincing, but she could tell by Beth’s expression that she wasn’t making much headway. ‘It’s true,’ she protested, wringing the tissue between her hands. ‘I wouldn’t have married an addict, Miss Haley. Honestly. You have to believe me.’

  Beth noticed the switch to the more formal mode of address, but she didn’t comment on it. She was more concerned with what she had learned, and what she, an unwilling participant in the tragedy, should do with the information.

  ‘Please,’ Linda implored her. ‘I’m not lying, Miss Haley.’ And then, as if reconsidering, ‘Tony—Tony was on drugs once. But he kicked the habit. He did. Only by then it was too late.’

  ‘Too late for what?’ Beth was wary.

  ‘For the money!’ exclaimed Linda urgently. ‘He’d borrowed money to—to pay for—for what he needed. But he couldn’t keep up the repayments. Not on what his father sent him an
yway.’

  Beth looked doubtful. ‘Linda—’

  ‘It’s true!’ she insisted. ‘I swear it. God, since I found out the trouble he was in, I’ve been giving him most of what I earned working part-time at the burger bar as well. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.’

  ‘So why didn’t he contact his father?’ Beth suggested quietly. ‘I’m sure, if he had—’

  ‘He couldn’t do that.’ Linda was vehement.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because—because he couldn’t.’ She wrapped her arms about herself, and shivered. ‘You don’t know them, Miss Haley. You don’t know what they’re like. If they’d known Tony had ever—had ever—well, you know. They’d have made him leave the university, go back to Greece. He and I—we’d never have seen one another again.’

  Beth’s brows drew together. ‘I thought you said his father lived in London.’

  ‘He does.’

  ‘Then—’

  ‘His father doesn’t control the family business. His grandfather does. And, believe me, he’d have made sure Tony suffered for what he’d done.’

  ‘Tony said that.’

  ‘Yes. But I know it’s true.’

  Beth hesitated. ‘How? You haven’t met his grandfather.’

  ‘No, but I’ve seen the letters he’s written to Tony.’

  ‘He wrote in English?’ Beth was sceptical.

  ‘No, Greek,’ said Linda sulkily. ‘Tony translated them for me.’ She sighed. ‘They were horrible letters, Miss Haley. I know they were. Tony was always upset after one of them arrived.’

  Beth bit her lip. ‘Even so—’

  ‘Even so nothing. You don’t know what Tony was like. He wanted to please his family; he did. He just—couldn’t take the pressure.’

  Beth shook her head again, incapable at that moment of finding anything to say. There was obviously some truth in what Linda was saying, but so many inconsistencies as well. A good lawyer would tear her story to shreds, she thought ruefully. And perhaps Tony had known that, and that was why he’d—

  She stopped herself there. She didn’t want to think about it. She refused to think about it. It was nothing to do with her. She was just Linda’s tutor. This conversation had nothing to do with her involvement with Alex Thiarchos.

  ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do,’ Linda whispered now, gazing at her with tear-filled eyes. ‘Why can’t they leave me alone? I just want to do my exams, and forget all about it.’

  Beth sighed. ‘Linda.’ She hesitated. ‘Linda, have you thought how—how Tony’s father, and grandfather, must be feeling? They’ve lost Tony, too. And you were his wife. It’s natural that they would want to know you.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to know them.’

  ‘But that’s childish,’ said Beth flatly. ‘Linda, they may think—that is—you could be pregnant!’

  ‘I’m not.’

  Beth’s heart fluttered. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Sure, I’m sure.’ Linda brushed her eyes with the tissue. ‘It’s probably just as well. Then they’d really have had a hold on me, wouldn’t they?’

  Beth bent her head, unwilling to consider that thought. ‘Nevertheless—’

  ‘You didn’t mind my coming here, did you?’ Linda ventured suddenly. ‘You didn’t mind me talking to you? You see, I couldn’t tell Kathie. She wouldn’t have understood. And I’ve got no one else.’

  ‘No…’

  Beth’s denial was reluctant, but evidently Linda was reassured enough to go on. ‘I hoped I could rely on you—Beth,’ she tendered, reverting to her previous form of address. ‘I mean, you were there; at the funeral. And—and at Kathie’s, when Tony’s father came to see me. You met him. You saw what he was like. I’m not used to dealing with people like him, but—well, he was kind to you, wasn’t he? Grabbing you, when you felt faint, and looking after you like that. He liked you. I know he did. And I know he’d listen to you. That’s why I want you to talk to him. I know you could tell him—so much better than I could—exactly how I feel!’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ALEX drove the final few miles to the university. It was a deliberate decision, born out of his desire not to repeat that other fateful journey of less than two weeks ago. Then, he had flown to the local airport, and had his pilot transport him the rest of the way by helicopter. Time had seemed of the essence, though, as it turned out, he had had all the time in the world.

  Nevertheless, as he drove through the small town, crowded with summer visitors, and saw the university buildings, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight at the other side of the river, he still felt the same pang of apprehension. God, it didn’t seem possible that Tony was dead. It hardly seemed any time since he was a boy, attending school in Athens.

  He remembered so well his father’s anger, when Tony had announced that he wanted to go to university in England. Although the old man’s second wife, Alex’s mother, had been an Englishwoman, Constantine had not encouraged either of his sons to break with tradition. Both George and Alex had married women their father had chosen for them, and their sons, Constantine’s grandsons, had been expected to follow a similar path.

  Attending university in England was flying in the face of the establishment, and, although Alex had defended his son’s position, he, too, had had his doubts. But Tony was not like him; and even Constantine had had to accept that Lucia had been unstable.

  And, for reasons that had more to do with the resentment he felt towards his father than for Tony’s feelings, Alex had stood firm. If his son favoured his grandmother’s country, why not? He himself lived and worked in London these days. He would be there if Tony needed him.

  His lips twisted. But he hadn’t been there. In the three years since Tony left home, he had seen his son only a handful of times. It wasn’t all his fault. Tony had made friends at the university, or so he’d said, and holidays had been spent skiing in Colorado, or hitch-hiking round Europe. They hadn’t lost touch, exactly, but Tony hadn’t seemed to want to spend time at home—at either of his homes, his father’s or his grandfather’s. And Alex had had commitments of his own. As the European vice-president of the Thiarchos corporation, he travelled quite a lot himself. And never at any time had Tony intimated that he was thinking of getting married, that he had got married. Or that he might be desperate enough to take his own life…?

  He drove over the bridge that separated the town from the university, and entered the sprawling campus. A lake, dotted with swans, formed a pretty centrepiece to the various faculties, and there were numerous signs and name-plates, indicating the different departments. He avoided the lane that would have led him more directly to the administration building. He had no wish to pass the spot where his son had died. It was hard enough, coming back here. He had originally intended never to set foot on this campus again.

  For the first time since he left London that morning, he allowed himself to think about Elizabeth Ryan—no, Haley. In all of this she was the one sane thing he had to hang on to. He knew she didn’t feel that way. He knew she would rather he stayed the hell out of her life. But, dammit, she owed him an explanation, and one way or another he was determined to get it.

  Not that she was the reason he had made this journey, he assured himself. Her departure from London might have caught him unawares, but he would have had to come here anyway. He still needed to talk to his daughter-in-law. Really talk to her, that was. And convince her that she owed the family something. Even if she didn’t intend to pursue the association.

  He saw a sign indicating the English building and, against his will, his nerves tightened. Was that where she worked? he wondered, fighting the urge to go and find her. Miss Elizabeth Haley, he thought disparagingly. English graduate, English lecturer, English tutor. And what else? English hustler? English harlot? English whore? No! Whatever else she might be, she was not promiscuous. When he’d had sex with her, she’d been a virgin. So what had she been doing, seducing him, when it was obvious she’d have no shortag
e of admirers here?

  At first, he’d been suspicious. Even when he’d discovered that she’d covered her tracks so completely, he’d been sure there had to be more to it. He’d waited for her to contact him. Checked every message on his answer-phone; examined every letter. But time, and his own lack of success in tracing her, had forced him to accept that she didn’t intend to get in touch with him again. That was why seeing her at Tony’s funeral had been so astounding. Why since then he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind.

  But first, Linda, he reminded himself, driving past the turn-off to the English department, and continuing on to the administration block. Her determination not to take anything from the family had increased his respect for her, and, almost against his will, he felt some sympathy for her. But she was Tony’s widow—his widow!—and, as such, she had some responsibilities. Not least, the need to show his grandfather some respect, by travelling to Greece to meet him…

  * * *

  Beth was in her office, trying to concentrate on the pile of English papers in front of her, when one of the secretaries put her head round the door.

  ‘You’ve got a visitor, Beth. Is it convenient?’

  Beth’s mouth went dry. ‘Oh?’ she managed casually. ‘Who is it?’ Though she was sure she already knew.

  ‘He says he’s Tony Thiarchos’s father,’ the young woman replied, edging into the room, and pressing the door almost closed behind her. Then, in a whisper, ‘My God! Have you seen him? He doesn’t look old enough to have had a son Tony’s age. Though I must admit he looks a bit haggard. Still, that’s understandable, isn’t it? In the circumstances.’

  ‘Just show him in, Heather.’ Beth was relieved to find her voice sounded almost normal. ‘I—er—I was expecting him.’