“What does it matter? You’re going to Athens.”
I narrowed my eyes and looked down at her blonde head. There was a distinct, too distinct, tinge of jealousy in her voice; of hurtness. I sat down abruptly at her feet and forced her to look me in the eyes. She tried to look away, to look reserved and hurt, but I reached out my hand and turned her cheek back.
“Why do you do that?”
“I smell a rat. A rat about five feet eight—nine?—inches long.”
She smiled, at the joke, not at any bluff being called.
“I didn’t know such monsters existed.”
“Neither did I. Till this afternoon.”
Our eyes watched each other in some peculiar zone between teasing, unbelieving, believing, liking; I realized everything with her was in parentheses. What she was outside those parentheses I was no nearer to knowing.
“We’re being watched. Don’t look round.”
“Where? Who by? Maurice?”
“I always know when he’s watching. I can feel it.”
“You sound as if you owe him nothing but fear at the moment.”
She gave me a troubled look.
“It’s what I’m trying to say. Sometimes he makes me do things—I don’t really want to do.”
“Such as?”
“He wants me to do what you said. Make you fall in love with me.”
“Wants you to? In love?” She nodded. “But why, for heaven’s sake? I mean I’m delighted that he does, but—” I was thinking of his advice about Alison. “God, it just doesn’t make sense.”
“He wants to lead you into a… sort of trap.”
“And you’re the bait?”
“Yes.”
“Have to be the bait? Can’t say no?” She shook her head. “What is the trap?”
“I can’t tell you.”
I ran my hand over my hair. “I feel as if I’ve been too well spun in a game of blind man’s buff.”
She smiled, but very briefly. She crumbled the oregano leaves between her fingers. “Maurice doesn’t realize how quick you are. And that I can’t really cope this year. I knew as soon as I saw you last night.”
I gripped her knee. “This year?” She gave a little smile of confessed guilt; pushed my hand away.
“Last year it was… easy.”
“Well, well, well. That bastard Mitford.”
“Yes, he was. What you say.”
“You made him fall in love with you?”
“No! Ugh. I couldn’t. It wasn’t necessary.”
“Tell me now.”
“Tell you what?”
“Your name. Where you come from at home. Who you are.”
She bit her lips as if my fierce interrogation was amusing. “No. I can’t. Not yet.”
“But you must. It’s ridiculous.”
Her eyes flicked back towards the house. “Please don’t look upset. Come and sit beside me. Smile a little. As if we’re just teasing and… flirting.” She put on an insincere smile as if to show me the way. I did as she said. “Now put your arm round my shoulders.” Her eyes were down and she looked embarrassed; she drew an unsentimental breath, as if it was all an ordeal.
“I don’t find this too unpleasant.”
“I do. I hate it.”
“You’ve been hiding it pretty well.”
“You’ve got to kiss me now. Please do it quickly.”
She turned her head rather desperately and closed her eyes. I looked round at the trees quickly and then kissed her mouth. But it remained tightly held against mine except for one small tremor of response just as she pushed me away.
“I must go now. I’ve told you too much.”
She tipped some dust from her eyelashes with her fingertip; then removed my arm from her shoulders.
“Lily.”
“I must go. And I wish I could meet you outside Bourani. As if everything was normal.” She gave me a strange look, a moment’s gentle, frank smile, and stood up. I caught her hand.
“You have me under your spell. You know that?”
“You have me just as much in your power. If you tell Maurice what I’ve told you… will you seriously, very seriously, promise not to?”
“I promise, very seriously.”
“Nothing?”
“Don’t worry. Nothing.”
“You will understand tonight.”
Then the wretched bell rang, trisyllabically, for me again. I looked at my watch. It was teatime.
“You must go now as well.”
“To hell with the bell. Unless you come to tea too.”
“No. I must go. I know he’s watching us.”
“He said he would?”
She gave the slightest of nods, then looked urgently at me. “Please, please, if you like me at all, go away now.”
“Where will you go?”
“I shall stay here till you’ve gone.”
“But I’ll see you tonight.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. It’s not for me to—”
The bell rang peremptorily again.
“I must see you before next weekend.”
“I can’t promise anything.”
“I could meet you here. Not come to the house.”
“No, no. You mustn’t. Please. You must go.” She looked faintly distraught under the false smiles, and pushed me to make me go.
“I’ll come on Tuesday, no, damn, oh God and Wednesday I’ve got duties—tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Thursday.”
“No. Please.”
“Kiss me goodbye.”
She hesitated, then leaning forward rather as she had that morning, she brushed my cheek with her lips; and whispered.
“The weekend after, I promise.”
She freed her hand almost with violence; but her look countermanded it. I went. At the gulley I waved, and she waved back. I said “Yes?” and she gave a minute nod; on the other side, I waved again. Then I saw Conchis.
He was some sixty yards away through the trees. His back to us, he appeared to be watching some bird high in the trees beyond him through binoculars. After a moment he lowered them, turned, and made as if he had just seen me. I glanced back. Lily was walking slowly to the east. She looked dejected.
35
As I walked over the carpet of pine needles to meet him, I decided to be slightly annoyed; and then, when I was close to him, something about his quizzical look made me change tactics. It obviously did not pay at Bourani to look or speak as one felt. I believed, in terms of believing a person’s eyes and voice and gestures, that Lily had not been lying to me—at least in regard to some strain, some tension in her relationship with Conchis; but I knew very well that she could have been lying to me.
“Hello.”
“Good afternoon, Nicholas. I must apologize for that sudden absence. There has been a small scare on Wall Street.” Wall Street seemed to be on the other side of the universe; not just of the world. I tried to look concerned.
“Oh.”
“I had to go to Nauplia to telephone Geneva.”
“I hope you’re not bankrupt.”
“Only a fool is ever bankrupt. And he is bankrupt forever. You have been with Lily?”
“Yes.”
We began to walk back towards the house. I sized him up, and said, “And I’ve met her twin sister.”
He touched the powerful glasses around his neck. “I thought I heard a subalpine warbler. It is very late for them to be still on migration.” It was not exactly a snub, but a sort of conjuring trick: how to make the subject disappear.
“Or rather, seen her twin sister.”
He walked several steps on; I had an idea that he was thinking fast.
“Lily had no sister. Therefore has no sister here.”
“I only meant to say that I’ve been very well entertained in your absence.”
He did not smile, but inclined his head. We said nothing more. I had the distinct feeling that he was a chess master caught between two moves; immensely rapid calculation of combinations. Once he even turned to say something, but changed his mind.