Greek Wedding (22 page)

‘Even after this?'

‘Yes, even after this. But, you're shivering, It's almost dark, and the wind's getting up. Come below, Phyllida. Things will seem better in the morning, I promise you.'

‘They could hardly seem worse.'

*          *          *

Alex emerged from Price's ministrations looking very much more himself, and protesting all over again that his wounds were mere trifles. He set out to behave as if nothing was the matter, but there was a strange, hard glitter about him all evening that Phyllida found almost frightening. That night she dreamed that he and she were climbing the path to the temple of Aphaia. It grew narrower and incredibly steep. Drifts of scarlet anemones and purple poppies on either side encroached more and more closely: in a moment they would be wading through them. And they were not flowers, they were rivers of blood.

‘Phyllida! Phyllida, child what's the matter?' Cassandra was beside her, holding her hand.

‘Nothing, Aunt. A nightmare. I'm sorry if I waked you.'

‘No matter for that.' Her aunt's cool hand lay for a moment on her forehead. ‘I'm anxious about you, child. There's something on your mind, isn't there?'

‘Oh, Aunt Cass!' Suddenly, helplessly, she was crying. ‘I can't tell you. Don't ask me. I gave my word.'

‘But should you have? This isn't the first time I've heard you talking in your sleep.' Cassandra felt her way over to the lamp and lit it. ‘I've wanted to talk to you, but it's impossible in the daytime. There's no privacy, not even in here, with the saloon so close … But I can't bear to see you looking so burdened, so withdrawn … Tell me about it?'

‘I can't,' she said again. ‘I promised…'

‘Not a promise you should have given, nor one that anyone should have asked of you.'

‘Maybe not.' The hot horror of the dream was fading now, and she could think clearly again. Oddly, her first thought was that only yesterday, under such loving pressure, she would have broken her promise and told her aunt of her engagement. Why had Alex's behaviour last night made this impossible? She temporised. ‘Father always said one's word must be one's bond.'

‘Sometimes,' said Aunt Cassandra oddly, ‘I wish your father had not been a sea captain.' But to Phyllida's grateful relief, she asked no more questions, merely smoothing her rumpled sheets and pouring her a glass of lukewarm water. Only, the lamp blown out, she said, ‘You shouted, “blood”, Phyllida. It frightened me.'

‘I must have been dreaming about that night we escaped from
Constantinople.' Phyllida was ashamed of the suggested lie the moment it was spoken. Angry with herself, she was angry, too, with Alex for getting her into this position. Tomorrow, she would speak to him.

But tomorrow the
Philip
had sailed.

Easter passed gloomily. It was hard to put one's heart into the traditional, ‘Christ is risen,' with memory of Saint Spiridion still fresh as a wound. And though its fall should at least have left the way open for the relief of the Acropolis, nothing was done. The Greeks seemed paralysed, absorbed in mutual recriminations, while the Turks, inevitably, prepared to fight to the death. It was not only Phyllida who woke each morning to a deep, unreasoning burden of misery.

‘But at least Church hasn't resigned.' Brett was doing his best to be cheerful. ‘Those three ciphers who pass for the Greek government have arrested John Notaras, who had nothing to do with the massacre, and propose to make him the scapegoat. What worries me more is that Church and Cochrane seem to have learned nothing from the disaster.'

‘What should they have learned, B?' Phyllida was increasingly silent and withdrawn these days, and it was Jenny who asked the question.

‘Why: the obvious. That they cannot hope to control the Greek troops. How on earth do they expect to carry an attack across the plain to Athens, in the teeth of the Turkish cavalry, when they can't even control their men in a minor victory?'

Jenny flashed him a warning glance. ‘You're just an old raven, B! Surely now Spiridion has fallen, they've got the Turks in a trap. They can't lose. And anyway you said yourself that what happened there makes a negotiated surrender almost impossible.'

‘I did indeed.' Grimly. ‘Would you surrender, if you were Reshid? To a pack of bloodthirsty barbarians?'

‘Oh, really, B.' Once again her look was a warning. ‘You're so prejudiced against the Greeks you won't see reason. I'm sure this will have been a warning to them. They'll do better from
now on.'

‘I hope you're right.'

‘Of course I'm right. You may be a great author, but I've got female intuition. And that reminds me, I've another chapter copied out for you. Come down to the saloon a moment and I'll give it you.' And then, as he followed her down the steep companionway. ‘Brett, I'm worried about Phyllida. She doesn't look a bit well.'

‘I know. I wish to God I'd never agreed to let her charter the
Helena
. She'd be infinitely better back on Zante, away from all this.'

‘You're talking about Phyllida?' In the saloon, Cassandra had heard his last sentence. ‘I'm anxious about her, Brett.'

‘That's just what Jenny was saying. But what can we do? She'd never consent to go back to Zante now.'

‘No, of course not. But I think we must do something, just the same. She's having nightmares, night after night. She wakes up screaming. It's the same dream, I'm sure, over and over again. Anxiety, of course. I think it's too hard on her to be here, right in the thick of things like this. Besides, let's face it, the
Helena
wasn't designed to accommodate so many people. I think it does us the greatest credit that we're not quarrelling like cats.'

‘Yes,' he smiled at her with affection. ‘But what can we do, Aunt Cass?'

‘I've been thinking about that. In the night, listening to poor Phyllida, I've had a lot of time for that. I think I've hit on it. In fact, I can't think why it didn't occur to us sooner. When the attack on Athens comes, you'll want to take the
Helena
up as near as possible, won't you?'

‘Not with you women on board.'

‘Precisely. So we must go ashore. There must be somewhere safe on the mainland, Brett? Where Phyllida can hire another house?'

‘Nauplia, of course. It's as good as impregnable. And not a chance in the world of the Turks attacking it now when they are so closely threatened at Athens. It's not much of a place, I'm afraid, but it should be safe enough.'

‘What should be safe?' Although she longed to be alone, Phyllida became restless when she was, and had come down to join the others in the saloon.

‘A house in Nauplia,' said her aunt. ‘We've been holding a council of war, love—a fine thing to do without you there, who will have to pay the shot!'

‘A house in Nauplia! But why in the world?'

‘Because we've none of us been thinking,' said Brett cheerfully. ‘The attack on Athens is due to start any day now and if you think I am going to stay down here when that happens, you're crazy. Crazier still.' He anticipated her reply. ‘If you think I'm going to take you with me. So, this afternoon, we are goint to sail round to Nauplia and establish you three in a house there. You must see, Phyllida, that even if I would let you, I can't take Jenny into the war zone.'

‘No, of course not. I've been a fool not to think of it myself. But, Brett, do let's lose no time! You'll really go up to the Piraeus when they attack?'

‘What else? And bring Peter straight back to you. It's another argument for a house. He's bound to be exhausted after all these weeks of siege. He'll need all the comfort he can get.'

‘Yes indeed.' It did her good to have him talk as if Peter's rescue were a matter of course. ‘But, Brett, it's not just Peter—' she hesitated, horribly aware of her betraying blush.

‘You're thinking of Alex?' For once, his cool, matter-of-fact tone was balm to her. ‘Of course I'll bring him too if I can get him to come. Price says he should hardly be noticing those wound of his by now, but once the Acropolis has been relieved, he too, may feel glad of a rest.'

‘You really think it's going to be relieved?'

‘Church and Cochrane seem sure enough about it.'

It was not quite an answer, and Jenny darted him one of her quick, bright glances, but it satisfied Phyllida. ‘Let's start at once,' she said.

Since the Greek government was now on Poros, Nauplia was considerably less crowded than when they had been there before, and Brett was able to find them a house set close between the shore and the towering cliff. ‘I've accepted it on your behalf,' he told Phyllida next day. ‘I hope you'll forgive me, but I thought you ladies would like it better if I had it thoroughly cleaned before you even saw it. Price is taking a detachment of the crew ashore first thing tomorrow to do so.'

‘Oh, thank you, Brett, you think of everything.'

But the house in Nauplia was a sad come-down after the
Palazzo Baroti. Brett had explained, ruefully, that the Greeks, in their extravagant fury, had destoyed most of the Turks' houses when they captured the town at the outbreak of the rebellion. The best of those that remained had been taken over by Prince Mavrocordatos, and Brett had been lucky to rent a smaller one belonging to a member of the government, now at Poros.

‘Well, at least, under the cliff like this, it should be shady enough.' Phyllida mustered the best enthusiasm she could. ‘And what a wonderful job you've done, Price, in making it habitable.'

‘Thank you, miss. It looks a bit odd, the
Helena
's furniture in these outlandish rooms, but never mind. We'll be settled in no time, you see if we aren't.'

‘And just think of all this space,' said Jenny. ‘A study for you, darling B, and rooms to ourselves all round. You should get on like a house afire with your book now. But when can we go sightseeing? I'm dying to look at those romantic castles!'

‘I don't know about that,' Brett said doubtfully. ‘I've been talking to Marcos. I'm afraid you ladies are going to have to resign yourselves to a fairly cloistered life while I am away with the
Helena
. Greek ladies don't go out much, you know. Of course Marcos will stay with you, but I can see he's a little anxious about your safety. It's a great responsibility for him, and I rely on you to make it as easy for him as possible.'

‘Oh B!' It was almost a wail. ‘You mean we've exchanged the deck of the
Helena
, and all those wonderful views, for this tiny airless courtyard.'

‘Well, not entirely. Marcos seems to think that it will be “suitable” if you join the evening promenade in the main square—I'll take you there tonight. It's not much of a place, I'm afraid, but better than nothing.'

So, that evening, he led the way through the narrow, noisome lanes of Nauplia to the small square, with its huge rustling plane tree, where the Greeks took their evening walk. ‘There aren't many women, are there?' Jenny had been watching everything with her usual lively interest. ‘And look at them! Wrapped up in shawls and veils like so many mummies! Only a good deal more shapeless. Something tells me we're not going to have much social life here. Really, B, I don't see what good it's done the Greeks to free themselves from the Turks if they go right on
behaving like them. I'd as soon be a Turkish woman as a Greek one any day. At least the Turks have a chance of ending up in Constantinople and the Sultan's harem! What do you think, Phyllida?'

‘I think you talk a great deal of nonsense!' It came out more sharply than Phyllida had intended, and, to make amends, she went on. ‘But tell me about the fortresses, Brett? Which is the Palamede and which the Itchkali? And are we going to be able to take Jenny to see them before you go?'

‘I'm afraid not. I made some enquiries about it today and it's perfectly clear that visitors—and most particularly female ones—are far from welcome. Well, it's understandable enough in time of war, but also I hear, there's a good deal of ill feeling, just now, between Grivas, who commands the Palamede and Fotomarra at Itchkali. There's been one outbreak of actual fighting between them already. I'm afraid it's hardly the time for sightseeing trips to their strongholds.'

Jenny sighed. ‘And I know you're going to tell me it's quite impossible to ride over to Argos—we've got to be content with the distant view of the ruins there … and with imagining the Lernean swamp, and Tyrins—Not to mention Mycenae…'

‘I'm afraid so, for the time being. Even for men, sightseeing would be a chancy business these days. For you, I'm afraid it's, simply, impossible.'

‘Heigh ho,' sighed Jenny. ‘Do you know, sometimes I quite find myself looking forward to getting back to England.'

‘Oh, Jenny!' Something about her tone roused Phyllida from her abstraction. ‘I'm sorry!'

‘Nonsense!' Jenny gave her a quick kiss. ‘It's I who should be sorry. I'm a brute to grumble, when you've been so angelic to me. It's only—at Zante there were the flowers, and the walks … Even on the
Helena
there was always something going on in the harbour that one could watch. But what are we going to
do
here?'

‘Let's hope we won't be here for long,' said Brett.

‘You think the attack will come soon?' Phyllida asked.

‘Very soon. If you feel you can manage without me, I propose to go back to the
Helena
tomorrow. I want to be ready, with steam up, when Cochrane gives the order for the attack.'

‘Brett, you'll be careful! I'd never forgive myself if you were
hurt—or the
Helena
—on my account.'