"I'll get it myself."
I was at the wheelhouse door, her hands clutching at me. "What happened, for God's sake?"
I looked down at her, seeing her pale face, frightened and bewildered, and wondering whether to tell her. But this wasn't something I could share with anybody else, not even her. And Dr. Gilmore there, listening, alert and curious. "It's up to the others now." I got clear of her then and went below, where I peeled off the jacket of the wet suit and towelled myself down, standing naked in the saloon, my mind going over and over everything I'd seen, the things he'd said. And when I was dry, I wrapped the towel round me and went over to the drink cupboard. I thought a cognac would steady me, help me to see things in perspective. I poured myself a stiff one and drank it neat, feeling the fire in it reach down into my guts. But it needed more than that to deaden the memory of what had happened. I poured myself another,
drinking it slowly this time and trying to think. And then Dr. Gilmore came in.
He sat himself down facing me, still alert and curious, but not saying anything. He just sat there watching me, waiting until I was ready. And gradually I realized I would have to tell him.
He had shifted his position, was leaning slightly forward. "Holroyd's dead, is he?" And when I didn't answer, he added, "That's why you're drinking-why you were so abrupt with Sonia."
I nodded. "Yes, he's dead," I said.
"And Pieter?"
"He's very weak-exhausted. He says he's not afraid of death. He wants to be left there."
After that he got it out of me, bit by bit-the cave, the body, the whole story of that fifteen minutes or so I had spent with him. And when it was done and I had told him everything, he sat there, silent and sad-looking, not commenting, not condemning, just quietly thinking it out whilst I had another cognac. And then footsteps on the companionway and Sonia standing there.
"Well?" she looked from one to the other of us, searching our faces. "All this time I've been waiting up there, not knowing. ." Her voice trailed off as she stared at Gilmore.
"Bill Holroyd is dead."
"But Dr. Van der Voort?" She didn't care about Holroyd. His death meant nothing to her. Wide-eyed, her gaze switched from Gilmore to me. "Did you find him?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you tell me? To leave me in doubt. ." She stopped there, conscious suddenly of the atmosphere, the sadness in Gilmore's eyes, the lack of any sense of relief that I'd found him. "He's dead-is that what you mean?"
I didn't say anything. What could I say? I finished my drink, staring down at the empty glass, her eyes fixed on me, feeling a coldness in my stomach, seeing him still, propped against that wall, against the red belly of that bull.
"Tell me," she said. "For God's sake tell me. I'm not a child."
Her gaze had shifted to Gilmore and there was a long silence. And then finally the old man said, "I think, my dear, you have to face the fact that they're both dead."
I felt a sense of relief then. The decision I had been groping for confirmed and taken out of my hands. But she was too determined a person to accept it without knowing the details. "But how-what happened?" She was facing me again, white-faced. "Why didn't you tell me? Something happened whilst you were down there."
"Nothing happened," I said. -
"Then what are you hiding from me? Why didn't you go straight ashore?"
"Ashore?" I was confused now; the strain and the effect of the cognac. I thought she had guessed that Gilmore was lying. "Why should I go ashore?"
"To tell them, of course. To tell Hans he needn't risk his life any more. ."
"You tell him," I said, and reached for the bottle.
Her eyes widened, two angry spots of colour showing in her cheeks. "You're drunk."
I nodded. "That's right. You expect me to stay sober after a dive like that?" The neck of the bottle was rattling on the rim of the glass.
She frowned. "It's not the dive that's scared you."
"No?" I couldn't stand it any more, this persistent probing. "I'm too tired to argue," I said. "I'm going to my bunk."
And I went past her, walking carefully, the glass in my hand. Let Gilmore sort it out, tell her what he liked. I got to my cabin and sat on the bunk for a moment, drinking slowly, wondering what they'd do when they got through that rock fall. But my mind was comfortingly dulled, and when I'd finished my drink, I crawled naked onto my bunk. I didn't care any more. I didn't care what they did. I didn't care what they thought. I didn't even care if the wind got up and the ship broke adrift. I closed my eyes and sank into oblivion. Somebody else could deal with the whole damned mess.
PART FIVE
Red beasts sprawled across my vision, their eyes staring, and a great hand was on my shoulder, restraining me, as the broken face fell back screaming, and I opened my eyes to see the face of Kotiadis, dark and stubbled, hanging above me. "You will get up please and come to the salon." My mouth was dry, my eyes unfocussed. "What is it?" I murmured. "What do you want?" My mind was still half-lost in the dream world from which he had woken me.
"In the salon please-at once." His voice was harsh and urgent. I could hear voices, the bump of a boat alongside.
"Okay." I rubbed my eyes, feeling like death. I'd no clothes on and the cabin was hot, my body bathed in sweat. Veins of light swam across the deck beams above my head, the shimmering reflection of sun on water coming in through the single porthole. "What's happened? Have they got through the rock fall?"
"No. Not any more."
"Well, what the hell is it then?"
"All foreign yachts are to leave Greece immediately."
I swung my legs off the bunk and sat up. "Why? What's happened?"
"It is the order of the Government."
"Yes, but why?"
"I explain when you are dressed. You are to proceed now to Levkas." He left me then.
The time was 15.18. I pumped the wash basin full of water, sluicing it over my face and body, and then, feeling a little better, I slipped on a pair of shorts and went through into the saloon. Kotiadis was standing talking to Zavelas and two officers, Sonia and Gilmore sitting silent on the far side. The place seemed overcrowded, the air acrid with the smell of Greek tobacco, and the atmosphere was tense. A sudden silence fell as I entered. "What's going on?" I asked Gilmore.
"The patrol boat from Levkas," he said. "They arrived about ten minutes ago." He seemed to have shrunk and his voice sounded tired. "They say there is going to be a war."
"I do not say that," Kotiadis exploded. "We prepare. That is all. And it is for your own safety." He turned to me. "You will take this boat immediately to Levkas for examination."
I looked at him warily, wondering what it was all about. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you are under arrest and Kapetan Constantanidi will put men on board to take her there." He indicated one of the officers. "This is Kapetan Constantanidi." The police chief was a small, fierce little man, with a smile full of gold teeth. "But at the moment he has many other things to attend to, so it is better you do not refuse."
"What about Miss Winters and Dr. Gilmore?"
"They want us to go with the patrol boat," Sonia said, her face white, her eyes dark-ringed. "They've abandoned the search and we're to leave Greece immediately."
"I tell you again it is for your own safety," Kotiadis repeated. "There are already some Russian ships in Leros. Our
Government is negotiating but. ." He gave a Gallic shrug. "All foreign nationals are to leave Greece."
"We heard it on the wireless," Dr. Gilmore said quietly. "The Russians are requesting the use of bases in the Dodecanese. The Turks are involved too, of course, and the situation is not at all healthy."