The Other Side of Midnight (30 page)

It was two months before Larry piloted Demiris himself.

They were in the Piper and Larry was flying his employer from Athens to Dubrovnik. It was a cloudy day and there was a report of wind storms and squalls along the route. Larry had carefully plotted out the least stormy course, but the air was so full of turbulence that it was impossible to avoid it.

An hour out of Athens he flashed on the “seat belt” sign and said to Metaxas, “Hold on, Paul. This may cost us both our jobs.”

To Larry’s surprise Demiris appeared in the cockpit. “May I join you?” he said.

“Help yourself,” Larry said. “It’s going to be rough.”

Metaxas gave up his seat to Demiris and Demiris
strapped himself in. Larry would have preferred to have the copilot sitting next to him, ready to act if anything went wrong, but it was Demiris’ airplane.

The storm lasted almost two hours. Larry circled the large mountains of clouds that puffed up ahead of them, lovely white and deadly.

“Beautiful,” Demiris commented.

“They’re killers,” Larry said. “Cumulus. The reason they’re so nice and fluffy is that there’s wind inside of them puffing them up. The inside of that cloud can tear a plane apart in ten seconds. You can rise and fall thirty thousand feet in less than a minute with no control of your plane.”

“I’m sure you won’t let that happen,” Demiris said calmly.

The winds caught at the plane and tried to fling it across the sky, but Larry fought to keep it under control. He forgot that Demiris was there, focusing his entire attention on the craft he was flying, using every skill he had ever learned. Finally they were out of the storm. Larry turned, drained, and found that Demiris had left the cockpit. Metaxas was in the seat.

“That was a lousy first trip for him, Paul,” Larry said. “I may be in trouble.”

He was taxiing down the small, mountain-ringed tabletop airport at Dubrovnik when Demiris appeared in the doorway of the cockpit.

“You were right,” Demiris said to Larry. “You’re very good at what you do. I’m pleased.”

And Demiris was gone.

One morning as Larry was getting ready to leave on a flight to Morocco, Count Pappas telephoned to suggest that he take Catherine driving through the countryside. Larry insisted that she go.

“Aren’t you jealous?” she asked.

“Of the Count?” Larry laughed.

And Catherine suddenly understood. During the time she and the Count had spent together, he had never made an improper advance toward her or even
given her a suggestive look. “He’s a homosexual?” she asked.

Larry nodded. “That’s why I’ve left you in his tender care.”

The Count picked Catherine up early, and they started driving south toward the broad plain of Thessaly. Peasant women dressed in black walked along the road bent over with heavy loads of wood strapped to their backs.

“Why don’t the men do the heavy work?” Catherine asked.

The Count shot her an amused glance.

“The women don’t want them to,” he replied. “They want their men fresh at night for other things.”

There’s a lesson there for all of us
, Catherine thought wryly.

In the late afternoon they approached the forbidding-looking Pindus Mountains, their rocky crags towering high in the sky. The road was blocked by a flock of sheep being herded by a shepherd and a scrawny sheep dog. Count Pappas stopped the car as they waited for the sheep to clear the road. Catherine watched in wonder as the dog nipped at the heels of the stray sheep, keeping them in line and forcing them in the direction he wanted them to go.

“That dog is almost human,” Catherine exclaimed admiringly.

The Count gave her a brief look. There was something in it that she did not understand.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

The Count hesitated. “It’s a rather unpleasant story.”

“I’m a big girl.”

The Count said, “This is a wild area. The land is rocky and inhospitable. At best the crops are meager, and when the weather turns bad, there are no crops at all and a good deal of hunger.” His voice trailed off.

“Go on,” Catherine prompted.

“A few years ago there was a bad storm here and
the crops were ruined. There was little food for anyone. All the sheep dogs in this area revolted. They deserted the farms they worked on and gathered together in a large band.” As he continued, he tried to keep the horror out of his voice. “They began attacking the farms.”

“And killed the sheep!” Catherine said.

There was a silence before he answered. “No. They killed their masters. And ate them.”

Catherine stared at him, shocked.

“They had to send in federal troops from Athens to restore human government here. It took almost a month.”

“How horrible.”

“Hunger does terrible things,” Count Pappas said quietly.

The sheep had crossed the road now. Catherine looked at the sheep dog again and shuddered.

As the weeks went by, the things that had seemed so foreign and strange to Catherine began to become familiar to her. She found the people open and friendly. She learned where to do her marketing and where to shop for clothes on Voukourestiou Street. Greece was a marvel of organized inefficiency, and one had to relax and enjoy it. No one was in a hurry, and if you asked someone for directions he was likely to take you where you wanted to go. Or he might say, when you asked how far it was:
“Enos cigarou dromos,”
which Catherine learned meant “one cigarette away.” She walked the streets and explored the city and drank the warm dark wine of the Greek summer.

Catherine and Larry visited Mykonos with its colorful windmills and Melos, where the Venus de Milo was discovered. But Catherine’s favorite place was Paros, a graceful, verdant island capped by a flower-covered mountain. When their boat docked, a guide stood on the quay. He asked if they would like him to guide them to the top of the mountain on mule-back, and
they clambered aboard two bony mules.

Catherine was wearing a broad-brimmed straw hat to protect her from the hot sun. As she and Larry rode up the steep path leading toward the mountain top, black-clad women called out,
“Ke-lee meh-ra,”
and handed Catherine gifts of fresh herbs, oregano and basil to put in her hat band. After a two-hour ride, they reached a plateau, a beautiful tree-filled plain with millions of flowers in spectacular bloom. The guide stopped the mules and they gazed in wonder at the incredible profusion of colors.

“This named Valley of the Butterflies,” the guide said in halting English.

Catherine looked around for a butterfly but saw none. “Why do they call it that?” she asked.

The guide grinned as though he had been waiting for her question. “I show you,” he said. He dismounted from his mule and picked up a large fallen limb. He walked over to a tree and hit the limb against it with all his might. In a split second the “flowers” on hundreds of trees suddenly took to the air in a wild rainbow of flight, leaving the trees bare. The air was filled with hundreds of thousands of gaily colored butterflies dancing in the sunlight.

Catherine and Larry gazed in awe. The guide stood watching them, his face filled with a deep pride, as though he felt responsible for the beautiful miracle they were seeing. It was one of the loveliest days of Catherine’s life, and she thought that if she could choose one perfect day to relive, it would be the day she spent with Larry on Paros.

“Hey, we got a VIP this morning,” Paul Metaxas grinned cheerfully. “Wait till you see her.”

“Who is it?”

“Noelle Page, the boss’s lady. You can look, but you mustn’t touch.”

Larry Douglas remembered the brief glimpse he had
had of the woman in Demiris’ home the morning Douglas had arrived in Athens. She was a beauty and looked familiar, but that of course was because he had seen her on the screen, in a French picture that Catherine had once dragged him to. No one had to tell Larry the rules of self-preservation. Even if the world were not filled with eager females, he would not have gone anywhere near Constantin Demiris’ girl friend. Larry liked his job too much to jeopardize it by doing anything so stupid. Well, maybe he would get her autograph for Catherine.

The limousine taking Noelle to the airport was slowed down several times by work gangs repairing the roads, but Noelle welcomed the delays. She was going to see Larry Douglas for the first time since the meeting at Demiris’ house. Noelle had been deeply shaken by what had happened. Or, more accurately, what had not happened.

Over the past six years Noelle had imagined their encounter in a hundred different ways. She had played the scene over and over in her mind. The one thing that had never even occurred to her was that Larry would not remember her. The most important event in her life had meant nothing more to him than another little cheap affair, one of hundreds. Well, before she was through with him, he would remember her.

Larry was crossing the airfield, flight plan in hand, when a limousine pulled up in front of the big plane, and Noelle Page emerged. Larry walked over to the car and said pleasantly, “Good morning, Miss Page, I’m Larry Douglas. I’ll be flying you and your guests to Cannes.”

Noelle turned and walked past him as though he had not spoken, as though he did not exist. Larry stood there, looking after her, bewildered.

Thirty minutes later the other passengers, a dozen of them, had boarded the plane, and Larry and Paul
Metaxas took off. They were flying the group to the Côte d’Azur where they would be picked up and taken aboard Demiris’ yacht. It was an easy flight except for the normal turbulence off the southern coast of France in summer, and Larry landed the plane smoothly and taxied over to where some limousines were waiting for his passengers. As Larry left the plane with his stubby little copilot, Noelle walked up to Metaxas, ignoring Larry, and said in a voice filled with contempt, “The new pilot is an amateur, Paul. You should give him flying lessons.” And Noelle got into a car and was driven away, leaving Larry standing there, filled with a stunned, helpless anger.

He told himself that she was a bitch and he had probably happened to catch her on a bad day. But the next incident a week later convinced him that he was facing a serious problem.

On Demiris’ orders Larry picked Noelle up in Oslo and flew her to London. Because of what had happened Larry had gone over the flight plan with particular care. There was a high pressure area to the north and some possible thunderheads building up to the east. Larry worked out a route that skirted these areas, and the flight proved to be perfectly smooth. He brought the ship down in a flawless three-point landing, and he and Paul Metaxas strolled back to the cabin. Noelle Page was putting on some lipstick. “I hope you enjoyed your flight, Miss Page,” Larry said politely.

Noelle glanced up at him a moment, her face expressionless, then turned to Paul Metaxas. “I’m always nervous when I’m flown by an incompetent.”

Larry felt his face redden. He started to speak, and Noelle said to Metaxas, “Please ask him not to address me in the future unless 1 speak to him first.”

Metaxas swallowed and mumbled, “Yes, ma’am.”

Larry stared at Noelle, his eyes filled with fury, as she rose and left the plane. His impulse had been to slap her, but he knew that would have been the end of him. He loved this job more than anything he had ever
done, and he did not intend to let anything happen to it. He knew that if he were fired, it could be the last flying job he would ever get. No, he would have to be very careful in the future.

When Larry got home, he talked to Catherine about what had happened.

“She’s out to get me,” Larry said.

“She sounds horrible,” Catherine replied. “Could you have offended her in some way, Larry?”

“I haven’t spoken a dozen words to her.”

Catherine took his hand. “Don’t worry,” she said, consolingly. “Before you’re through, you’ll charm her. Wait and see.”

The next day when Larry flew Constantin Demiris on a brief business trip to Turkey, Demiris came into the cockpit and took Metaxas’ seat. He dismissed the copilot with a wave of his hand, and Larry and Demiris were alone. They sat there is silence, watching the small stratus clouds slicing the plane into fluffy geometric patterns.

“Miss Page has taken a dislike to you,” Demiris said, finally.

Larry felt his hands tighten on the controls and deliberately forced them to relax. He fought to keep his voice calm. “Did—did she say why?”

“She said you were rude to her.”

Larry opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. He would have to work this out in his own way.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more careful, Mr. Demiris,” he said evenly.

Demiris got to his feet. “Do that. I would suggest that you not offend Miss Page any further.” He left the cockpit.

Any further!
Larry racked his brain, trying to think of what he might have done to offend her. Perhaps she just did not like his type. Or she could have been jealous of the fact that Demiris liked and trusted him, but that didn’t make sense. Nothing Larry could think of
made any sense. And yet Noelle Page was trying to get him fired.

Larry thought about what it was like being out of a job, the indignity of filling out applications like a damned schoolboy, the interviews, the waiting, the endless hours of trying to kill time with cheap bars and amateur whores. He remembered Catherine’s patience and tolerance and how he had hated her for it. No, he could not go through all that again. He could not stand another failure.

On a layover in Beirut a few days later Larry passed a movie theater and noticed that the picture playing there starred Noelle Page. On an impulse he went to see it, prepared to hate the picture and its star, but Noelle was so brilliant in it that he found himself completely carried away by her performance. Again he had the curious feeling of familiarity. The following Monday, Larry flew Noelle Page and some business associates of Demiris’ to Zurich. Larry waited until Noelle Page was alone and then approached her. He had hesitated about talking to her, remembering her last warning to him, but he had decided that the only way he could break through her antagonism was to go out of his way to be pleasant to her. All actresses were egotistical and liked to be told they were good, and so now he came up to her and said, with careful courtesy, “Excuse me, Miss Page, I just wanted to tell you that I saw you in a movie the other night.
The Third Face.
I think you’re one of the greatest actresses I’ve ever seen.”