The Passionate Greek (15 page)

Melanie found she was rather enjoying the
sensation of having decisions taken out of her hands. She hurried
upstairs to tell Maria, who was excited by the last minute plan.
Together they packed a small bag with what Electra would need for
the journey and into a large suitcase Melanie threw all the things
the baby might need in London’s cooler climate.

She hesitated when it came to her own
packing. What would the spur of the moment invitation entail? Would
Nicos expect her to dine out with him at the kind of restaurants
they frequented before? She no longer had a suitable wardrobe. She
was surveying the sparse contents of her bedroom cupboard trying to
decide if anything at all was suitable for Nicos’s kind of London,
when Anna bustled in. She was as excited as if she was going on a
trip herself, her beady black eyes beaming.

‘I pack for you,’ she announced. ‘You go see
to baby. Leave packing to me.’ Melanie did, grateful not to have to
think about it. Anna would probably just put everything in the
suitcase and Melanie could sort it out when she got there.

She’d forgotten how easy it was travelling
with Nicos. Everything around him worked like clockwork. The launch
picked the party up from the jetty. Electra was handed aboard by
the boatman like a precious parcel. The suitcases were loaded on
and they were met at the mainland port by limousine and whisked to
the nearby airport where Nicos’s private jet waited.

Aboard the jet Melanie found to her
amusement that Electra’s baby presence had been more than catered
for. She expected a sky cot, but not the play pen and selection of
toys. She needn’t have worried about the journey. Apart from Maria
the young and very pretty flight attendant spent most of the trip
playing with her.

Melanie had little to do but enjoy the glass
of champagne before take-off and the excellent meal provided. Nicos
spent most of the journey intent on a sheaf of business papers but
didn’t seem the least put off by the baby squeals. Melanie found
that utterly endearing. From time to time after an extra loud baby
squawk he looked up at Melanie and gave her a little smile.

The trip had been so hurriedly arranged that
Melanie had no chance to ask Nicos where they would all be staying.
Melanie hoped it would not be a hotel. She didn’t like the thought
of that with the baby. Perhaps Nicos had taken an apartment. That
would be best.

They landed at a small airport in the North
London suburbs. Nicos took Electra and carried her carefully down
the steep steps from the plane. Melanie saw with a lurch that took
her by surprise his familiar Bentley waiting at the foot. Memories
of their drives to the country on summer evenings to riverside
restaurants swamped her. She hoped London wasn’t going to sweep her
up into a maelstrom of memories. That was yesterday – only time
would tell if they had a tomorrow.

Settled into the back of the car with Nicos
at her side was achingly familiar. The difference was Electra,
propped in a car seat and lulled at last to sleep after the
excitement of the plane journey. Nicos, briefcase on knee, was
still perusing his paperwork. Knowing he had early morning meetings
she was loath to interrupt him, but finally he put his files away
and she was able to ask, ‘Where are we staying?’

‘Didn’t I say?’ he said absentmindedly, his
thoughts obviously still on the next day’s meetings. ‘My house, of
course.’

‘In London?’ she was surprised. As far as
she knew he hadn’t owned a house in London when they were together.
He had roosted in a riverside bachelor penthouse and bought the
house in the country for her. ‘I didn’t know you had a house in
London,’ she said. It was his turn to be surprised.

‘Didn’t you? I think it was let out to some
film star or other,’ he said vaguely. ‘My agent deals with that
sort of thing.’

She sighed, exasperated. She’d forgotten he
could do this. His casual announcement when he bought the country
house was pretty typical and now to learn he had another in London
he just hadn’t mentioned. ‘Have you any other expensive piles of
bricks you haven’t got round to tell me about,’ she said, a touch
acidly.

‘You always used to do that,’ he said,
laughing at her. . ‘What?’ she said. ‘Accuse me of not telling you
things.’

‘It’s true. You didn’t’. You went out and
bought a manor house and then asked me if I wanted to live in it? I
might have said no.’

‘But you didn’t, so there you are,’ he said,
as if that was an end to it.

She lapsed into silence. Somehow she had to
avoid this whole trip turning into a trial of reminiscences.He took
her hand. ‘It’s long, isn’t it?’ ‘What is?’ she asked puzzled.
‘Memory Lane,’ he said. She looked away and out of the car window.
They were driving through the park, she saw. The Bentley sl owed
and drew up before a curving colonnade of elegant 18th century
white fronted houses ‘We’re home,’ Nicos announced. Melanie caught
her breath. For a moment she wished they were. To share a home with
Nicos. What would that be like? To have him come home every
evening. To see him every morning over the breakfast table.

‘I wouldn’t care where ‘home’ was,’ she
caught herself thinking. ‘Home’ would be wherever we were together.
She pulled herself sharply out of her daydream and busied herself
with the straps of Electra’s car seat. ‘Here, let me,’ said Nicos,
and easily lifting the sleepy baby carried her up the short path to
the house. The glossy front door with its brass lion’s head knocker
was opened by a black-jacketed manservant and through the open door
Melanie could see a wide expanse of black and white tiled
hallway.

A housekeeper appeared and Melanie, taking
Electra in her arms, was shown up the curved sweeping staircase to
the first floor and a fully equipped nursery suite. Nicos came
bounding up the stairs behind them, Maria puffing up after him,
trying to keep up.

‘Do you like it? Is it all right?’ he asked
Melanie, with a worried frown. ‘It’s perfect,’ Melanie smiled. Who
wouldn’t be entranced by such a baby room with its sunny yellow and
white color scheme, bunny rabbits and fluffy ducklings capering on
a frieze round the wall? She walked to the barred window and looked
out. The park stretched away before her, green and perfect in the
late summer evening.

‘Your room is right next door and Maria on
the other side,’ Nicos said. ‘There’s a small kitchen area at the
end of the hall where you can make Electra’s tea if you don’t want
the kitchen to do it.’

‘You’ve thought of everything,’ she said. An
unwelcome thought crossed her mind. Did someone else help Nicos
with all of this? As if reading her mind he said, ‘It wasn’t me. I
had a firm specialising in nursery décor design it.’ Melanie was
taken aback. She didn’t know such companies existed. ‘For the baby
that has everything,’ she said wryly, wanting to add ‘except for a
mother’.

‘Come down to the drawing room for eight
o’clock,’ Nicos said, oblivious to her thoughts. ‘We’ll have a
drink then go out to dinner.’

Alone in her room an hour later Melanie had
time to consider the invitation and panic. ‘Go out to dinner
wearing what? My old jeans and a tee. That’ll do for the local
burger bar, if there is such a thing in this upmarket district.

Her suitcase was nowhere to be seen. She
pulled open the drawers of an antique chest and found her meagre
and much worn underwear and tee shirts neatly folded. Either the
manservant or the housekeeper had unpacked for her. Melanie
cringed. Rosewood wardrobes lined one wall and with a half
embarrassed giggle she opened one of the doors, expecting to see
her ripped jeans and faded summer tops. The opening of the door had
turned on an automatic light inside the wardrobe illuminating an
array of jewel colors. Hanging from the rails, shoulder covers
protecting one silken creation from its neighbor, a dozen or so
dresses dangled. Jealousy streaked like a fork of lightning through
her. Who was the previous occupant of this guest suite and why had
they left their clothes behind? Because they were coming back, the
devil on her shoulder whispered.

Melanie was furious with herself. What
business was it of hers who Nicos entertained in his glossy London
townhouse? She flicked the rails crossly, rattling the hangers
apart. Her attention was hooked by dark green and flame. She looked
closely. There was no mistake. The dresses were hers, bought in a
frivolous frenzy that day in an Athens boutique when Nicos had
insisted she take the lot.

Anna. It had to be. No wonder she was so
insistent that she pack for Melanie. ‘You are a devious old lady,’
she laughed to herself.

Nicos was waiting for her in the elegant ground floor
drawing room. He looked at her in the dark blue sheath dress she
had chosen and said, ‘You look utterly beautiful; but the neck is a
little bare.’ He walked to a wall cupboard and she saw that it
disguised a safe. He withdrew a velvet box and brought it to her.
‘Wear these tonight,’ he said. She opened the box. Inside on
ancient black velvet a circle of sapphires gleamed. ‘They’re
beautiful,' she breathed. He fastened them round her neck and
walked her to a gilt French Empire mirror over the marble
mantel.

She looked at her reflection, the dark blue
jewels laying flat against her light tanned skin, Nicos standing
behind her approvingly and was overcome by overwhelming sadness.
‘They’re part of the Chalambrous collection,’ Nicos said. ‘They
will be Electra’s one day.’

‘I’m like Cinderella at the ball for one
night, she thought. ‘I don’t belong here.’ Her earlier hopes that
she and Nicos might have a future together seemed unrealistic to
her now and she didn’t clearly know why. Perhaps it was the
opulence of the house. The jewels that would go back in the safe
tonight when the evening was over were like an omen. I’m only a
borrower. I will have to give it all back. The jewels, the dresses
– and most of all, my beloved daughter. The sapphires will go back
in their box, the designer dresses will return to the store room
and Electra will be returned o her inheritance.

Nicos was looking quizzically at her. ‘Is
everything all right? he asked, concern in his voice. She smiled to
mask her melancholy. ‘Why would it not be all right when my
throat’s encircled by a small fortune?’ ‘No, that’s not you.’ he
said, dismissing her flippancy. ‘You never wanted me to buy you
jewels. You never wanted anything. I would have given whatever you
asked.’

‘Except the one thing I wanted,’ she said.
‘The one thing I wanted from you it seemed you weren’t able to
give.’ A shadow crossed his face. ‘I’m sorry, ‘she said, regretting
her remark instantly. ‘No more recriminations, I promise.’ She
mentally chastised herself. What did she have to gain by
antagonising him? But he didn’t look angry. He looked sad.

‘Come and sit down,’ he said, leading her to
a sofa and a small table set with an ice bucket from which the foil
top of a champagne bottle leaned crookedly. He opened the bottle
expertly with a quiet plop and filled two crystal flutes. She
watched his fluid movements. He had the grace of a big cat she
thought, like a tiger moving through the jungle. He exuded
masculinity. There was a quality about him sometimes that she found
disturbing but deeply attractive. Predatory, that was it. A
delicious thrill that he might pounce.

‘You’re staring at me,’ he said. ‘Was I?’
she said, collecting herself with a start.

‘Don’t be sorry. I like it when you look at
me like that.’

‘Like what?’ she asked. ‘Like I am going to
eat you and you are going to enjoy it.’ He had an uncanny knack of
seeming to know what she was thinking and feeling. This was
dangerous ground. Why did the sexual temperature rise when they
were together? She felt she could almost reach out and touch
it.

‘Where are we going tonight,’ she said
hastily, moving to safer ground. ‘I’ve booked somewhere new,’ he
said. ‘Remember how we used to try out all the latest restaurants
and you would give them marks out of ten for the cooking?’ He was
smiling at the memory and her heart contracted. Her mood lifted.
Enjoy the time you have, she told herself. Don’t think what might
have been?

Outside the summer evening was balmy. ‘I’ve
given my driver the night off,’ said Nicos. ‘The restaurant’s not
far. I thought we’d walk.’ He cast a questioning at her high heels.
‘I could always carry you,’ he said. She laughed, already beginning
to feel happy with him. The thought of being carried by Nicos was
oddly pleasing.

‘I could outrun you in these heels,’ she
teased. ‘Only if I were wearing similar,’ he rejoined.

The walk took them round the circumference
of the park to a stucco fronted building. A red carpet spilled down
the steps and on to the pavement from the open front door where a
top-hatted doormen presided. Inside the restaurant was all white
starched napery and chandeliers. ‘It’s very grand,' Melanie
commented. ‘Let’s hope the food is,’ said Nicos.

Later Melanie couldn’t even remember what
they had eaten and whether it had been good. They rejoiced in each
other’s company, talking and laughing together as if the bitterness
between them had never been. They walked back along the park and
Melanie stopped to adjust the strap of her sandal. As she
straightened up Nicos lifted her off her feet and into his arms. ‘I
knew I’d have to carry you home,’ he said.

She didn’t protest. Enjoying the sensation
of being carried so comfortingly she put her arms round his neck
and nestled her head into his shoulder. He carried her easily up
the steps and let her down gently, fumbling for the keys in his
pocket. ‘Nightcap?’ he asked her in the hallway. She nodded, not
wanting the evening to end, and he led her into the drawing room
where soft lamps had been left burning, and the empty glasses and
champagne bottle had been replaced with a tray containing two
balloon glasses and a bottle of Courvoisier brandy.