The Moonspinners (27 page)

Something broke inside me. Where I found the Greek words I do not know: looking back, what I spoke was probably mainly English, with bits of Greek and French thrown in. But Lambis understood, and so – he told me later – did Colin.

‘Accident?'
I forgot the need for quiet, and my voice rose sharply. ‘Accident? Then I suppose it's an accident that you're running round now on the hillside with that swine who shot at Mark and wanted them to murder Colin? And don't think I don't know all about you and your precious friends, because I do! You can take it from me, I know every move your filthy gang have been making – Stratos, and Tony, and Sofia, and Josef . . . and now you! And don't try to pretend you're not in it up to your neck, because we
saw
you – no, hold your damned mouth, and let me finish! Help you? You want shooting out of hand, and I shan't raise a finger to stop Colin doing it, but first of all we want to know just what you're doing in all this. Who pays you, and why? Why did you have to bring him here? And why did you kill him? Why did you have to pretend to save his life, you filthy Judas? Was it because I happened along? If I'd stayed – he was such a marvellous person – if only I'd known – I'd have murdered you myself before I'd have let you hurt him! If only I'd stayed . . .'

The tears came, then, uncontrollably, but the blurring of my vision didn't prevent me from seeing, over the speechless, half-comprehending stupefaction of Lambis' face, the flash of a different expression, as his eyes flickered from my face to something just beyond me. Behind me, and beyond, outside the door . . .

A shadow moved in the doorway. Baggy breeches and a Cretan cap. A man coming in fast, with a knife in his hand.

I shrieked: ‘Colin! Look out!'

Colin whirled, and fired. Lambis shouted something at the same moment, and jumped for him. The shot thudded into the door jamb, midway between the newcomer and me, and the noise slammed, deafeningly, round and round the walls. Then Lambis had Colin's gun-hand; his other arm was tight round the boy's body; the gun went flying to the floor. I never moved. In the same moment that I cried out, I had seen the newcomer's face.

Now, I said: ‘Mark!' in a high, silly voice that made no sound at all.

The shot had stopped him just inside the doorway. Lambis let Colin go, and stooped to pick up the gun. Colin stood blinking against the light, looking dazed and stupid, as if a touch would have knocked him over.

‘Colin,' Mark said.

Then Colin was in his arms, not saying a word, not making a sound, you'd have sworn not even breathing. ‘What have they done to you? Hurt you?' I hadn't heard that voice from Mark before. The boy shook his head. ‘You're really all right?' The boy nodded. ‘That's the truth?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then we'll go. This is the end, thank God. We'll go straight to the caique.'

I didn't hear if there were any more. I turned and walked past them, and out of the church. Lambis said something, but I took no notice. Regardless now of who could see me, I started up the slope of the hollow, back towards Agios Georgios.

The tears still blurred my eyes, and twice made me stumble; stupid tears, that need never have been shed. I dashed them away. I had cried more over this affair than I remembered having done for years. It was time I got out of it. It was over.

Besides, it was getting late, and Frances would be wondering what had happened to me.

16

This done, he march'd away with warlike sound,

And to his Athens turn'd.

DRYDEN
:
Palamon and Arcite

Before I had gone thirty yards, I heard him behind me.

‘Nicola!'

I took no notice.

‘Nicola . . . please wait! I can't go at this speed.'

I faltered, then looked back. He was coming down the track with no noticeable difficulty. The only sign of his recent injury was the sling, made from the hanging fold of the Cretan head-dress, that cradled his left arm. He looked very different from the unkempt, half-bearded invalid of yesterday; he had shaved, and washed his hair, but – as with Colin – it was the relief and happiness of the moment that altered his appearance so completely. My first thought was a vague surprise that I should have recognized him so quickly; my second, that the ‘heroic' costume suited him disturbingly well.

‘Nicola—' he sounded breathless – ‘don't hurry off, please; I've got to thank you—'

‘You shouldn't have bothered. It's all right.' I thrust my damp handkerchief out of sight into a pocket, gave him a smile of a sort, and turned away again. ‘You and Colin had better get down to the caique, and away. You're all right now? You look a whole lot better.'

‘Lord, yes, I'm fine.'

‘I'm glad. Well, all the best, Mark. Goodbye.'

‘Wait, please. I—'

‘Look, I've got to get back. Frances will be sending out search parties, and it'll take me all of three hours to get home.'

‘Nonsense!' He was standing in front of me now, squarely in the middle of the path. ‘Two hours downhill, if that. Why did you run away like that? You must know—'

‘Because it's all over and done with, and you don't want me mixed up in it any more. You and Lambis and Colin can go to your b-boat and sail away, and that is that.'

‘But, my dear, for goodness' sake give us time to thank you! It's you who've done everything, while I was laid up there, about as useful as a pint of milk! And now everything's wonderful – mainly thanks to you. Look, don't be so upset—'

‘I'm not upset at all. Don't be absurd.' I sniffed, and looked away from him at the level brilliance of the sun. To my fury, I was beginning to cry again. I rounded on him. ‘We thought he'd murdered you. We found that grave, and . . .
it
 . . . had your clothes on. It was quite horrible, and I was sick. If that isn't enough to upset me—'

‘I know. I'm desperately sorry that you should have come across that. It's the man Colin calls Josef; you'll have guessed that. Lambis killed him, yesterday morning, when he followed him down the hill, remember? He didn't mean to; naturally what we wanted out of Josef was information about Colin, but it happened accidentally. Lambis had been stalking him, not daring to get too close, because of the rifle, when he came suddenly round a bend of that gully, and there was Josef having a drink, with the gun laid to one side. I suppose the noise of the stream had prevented his hearing Lambis coming. Well, catching him like that, Lambis jumped him. Josef hadn't time to reach the rifle, and pulled his knife, but Lambis was on top of him, so he didn't get a chance to use it. He went down, hard, with his head against the rock, and that was that.'

‘I . . . see. Yesterday? When Lambis came back, and sent me away, for the food . . . he told you then?'

‘Yes. He'd hidden the body behind some bushes, and come back to report.'

‘You never said a word to me.'

‘Of course not. But you see why we didn't dare to go down and stir up the local police? We didn't even know who the man was, or where he was from. And Lambis was worried sick, naturally. I thought it best to let ill alone, until we knew where we were.'

‘If I'd known . . .' I was thinking about the spectre of Josef, which had stalked so frighteningly behind my shoulder this last twenty-four hours. ‘You could have trusted me.'

‘Good God, you know it wasn't that! I just thought the less you knew about that, the better. I didn't want you involved.'

That did it. I said furiously: ‘Involved? Heaven give me strength,
involved
? I suppose I hadn't been involved enough already? I'd been scared to death by Lambis, I'd spent a perfectly beastly night with you, and I'd ruined a very expensive petticoat. I'd also dressed your horrible shoulder, and cooked and slaved and – and
worried
myself silly! About Colin, I mean. And all you could think of was to get rid of me because I'm a g-girl, and girls are no use, and you were too damned bossy and stiff-necked to admit I
could
help! Well, Mr Godalmighty Mark Langley, I
did
find Colin, and if he'd still been locked up in that filthy windmill, I'd
still
have found him! I
told
you I could go about on the mountain and in the village safely, and I can, and I have, and I've found out more than you and that horrible Lambis have in
days
. And you needn't think I'm going to tell you
any
of it, because you can just go and find it out for yourselves!
You
didn't tell me anything, so of course I thought he'd murdered you, and Colin and I were going to shoot you both, and you're jolly lucky we didn't!'

‘I'll say we are. That bullet was pretty near on target as it was.'

‘Stop laughing at me!' I cried furiously. ‘And don't think I'm crying about
you
, or that I meant a
single word
I said about you to Lambis just now! I couldn't have cared less if it
had
been you in the g-grave!'

‘I know, I know—'

‘And I'm not crying, I never cry, it was only that awful body . . . and . . . and—'

‘Oh, Nicola, darling, I'm sorry, truly I am. I'm not laughing. I'd give anything if the pair of you hadn't had that shock, and I'm desperately sorry you had that fright just now, over Lambis and me. But we'd been planning to go down into the village, you remember, and I thought Josef's clothes might just help me to get by, in the dark.' He grinned. ‘In any case, my own were pretty well past it. Those pants were hardly decent as it was.'

‘I saw the tear in them when Colin pulled the earth off, and the s-socks had a h-hole in.'

And I sat down on a stone, and wept bitterly.

He dropped down beside me, and his arm went round my shoulders, ‘Oh, Nicola . . . Dear heaven, can't you see, this is just the sort of thing I was trying
not
to let you in for?' He shook me, gently. ‘And they weren't my socks, darling, I did draw the line at his footgear and underthings! We took everything else he had, and buried the boots . . . All right, go on, cry, you'll feel better just now.'

‘I'm not crying. I never cry.'

‘Of course you don't. You're a wonderful girl, and if you hadn't come along when you did, we'd have been sunk.'

‘W-would you?'

‘Certainly. I might have died of Lambis' poultices, or Josef would have found me in the hut, or Colin might never have got to us safely . . . What's more, you saved me from getting shot last night, though you didn't know it. I was in that shed, along with the cat, when you stopped to have a smoke with your fierce friend in the lane.'

‘I know. I went back later. There was blood on the wall.'

‘You went back?' His arm moved as a muscle tightened, and I heard his voice change. ‘You
knew
? So – when you tried to stop that chap coming in—?'

‘He's Josef's friend.' I was crumpling my wet handkerchief into a small, tidy ball. I still hadn't looked at Mark. ‘He's one of them. I told you I'd found them.'

There was a sharp silence. I heard him draw in his breath to speak, and said quickly: ‘I'll tell you all about them. I – I didn't really mean it when I said I wouldn't; of course I will. But tell me about you first. When I found the blood last night I thought . . . I'm not sure what I thought. Are you really all right?'

‘Yes, perfectly. I knocked my shoulder, swanning around there in the dark, and started it bleeding, but it stopped soon enough, and there seems to be no damage.'

‘What happened yesterday after I'd left you?'

‘Nothing, really. After Lambis had seen you down to the cultivation, he doubled back to meet me, and we buried Josef after a fashion. It took a fair time, and when we'd finished I was so knocked up that I wasn't much use for anything, but I wasn't going to waste any more time before we took a look at the village. I told you Lambis hadn't been sure which way Josef was heading when he killed him, but the odds were it was Agios Georgios . . . Anyway, we went down as far as we dared, and lay up above the village and watched till dark. I felt better after the rest, so we got down into the place and did the best kind of search we could. I thought the Cretan clothes a good idea – if anyone caught a glimpse of me skulking up a back alley, I wouldn't look so blatantly foreign, and I might just have got by with grunting “good night” in Greek. Well, we neither of us found a trace of Colin, as you know. You said he was in a windmill?'

‘Yes. But go on; what happened when you got out of the shed?'

‘Nothing whatever. I met Lambis as arranged, and we got up into the rocks again and holed up till morning. I was very little use to anyone by that time, and getting pretty sure we'd never find Colin . . .' A pause. ‘This morning Lambis went down again, but all I could do was get up to the church to cache our stuff, then take the rifle and hide where I could watch the track where the first murder took place. I thought someone might possibly come to look for Josef, or for traces of me. If they had come, in Josef's clothes I could probably have got well within range before they saw it wasn't him. But never mind that now. Nobody came – not even you. You must have bypassed the track. Which way did you come?'

‘We stayed under cover, in the little gully where the body was. Didn't you hear me singing? After I'd found Colin I tried to locate you.'

He shook his head. ‘Not a thing. I wish I had. And Lambis drew blank, too. He'd gone to look at the cultivation.'