The Beads of Nemesis (17 page)

release herself and they both rolled over and came up choking.

“You’ll drown us both!” Peggy screamed.

“Then don’t hold on so tig
^ht!
”

Peggy began to cry in earnest. “I want Daddy!”

“We’ll try again,” Morag said patiently. “We haven’t far to go

now.”

“We have! We have!”

“We have not!” Morag snapped. She trod water, allowing herself to look over to where they had left Pericles sitting on the sand, but he was no longer there. For an instant she knew such a sense of desolation that she felt completely ridiculous. He wasn’t really gone. He had probably only moved his position - but where was he?

“Come on, Peggy, get on my back again!”

Peggy, suddenly silent, did as she was asked. “Daddy’s gone,” she lamented. “He might have waited!”

Morag thought so too. “Never mind, darling. We can manage

quite well without him!”

“We can’t!” Peggy said with depressing certainty.

“Of course we can! Do sit still, Peggy! You’re throttling me again!” “I’m trying not to, but I want Daddy! He doesn’t sink so much when I ride on him!”

Morag forbore to answer. She swam on with a dogged determination, having long since abandoned any attempt at style. All she wanted to do now was arrive without too much damage done to either herself or Peggy.

“I think you could stand on the bottom now,” Peggy told her. “I can see the sand through the water.”

Morag tried to do as she was told, but the water was deeper than Peggy had supposed and they both submerged and rose again, crosser and more frightened than ever.

“I told you, Morag, I told you! We’re going to drown!” “No, we are not!”

She seized the child under her armpits and turning over on to her back began to move with increasing pace towards the shore. Peggy was crying by now and she felt like tears herself. Then, just as she was beginning to give up hope, her shoulders grated against the rough sand and she realised that they were there. She looked up and saw Pericles standing beside her, looking down at her.

“I thought you’d gone!” she accused him.

“I did, but I came back to watch you two nits writhing about in old Poseidon’s hair!”

“Don’t encourage her,” said another, only too familiar voice. “She’s hoping you’ll give her the kiss of life! Morag can swim like a fish!” Delia!

Morag leapt to her feet in one swift movement. Her stepsister wore a cool white dress and looked as smart as paint, whereas she, she knew, looked a complete mess, her hair wet and straggly, and the swimming-suit she was wearing so old that she couldn’t remember when she had first had it, and without an atom of makeup to hide the freckles that the hot Greek sun had brought out on the bridge of her nose.

“Hullo, Delia,” she said in a strained voice.

Delia took a step backwards and looked her up and down,

managing to draw attention to the faded colour of the swimsuit and the signs of wear on the straps that would soon fall into holes. “Hullo yourself!” she drawled.

“Very cosy!” Delia murmured, looking round the bedroom Morag had helped to prepare for her. “You certainly knew what you were doing when you took off for Greece, didn’t you, pet?”

“What do you mean?” Morag countered.

“I should have thought it was obvious. The only flies in the ointment are the children. Is that little girl always such a trial? I’m surprised Pericles allows her to hang round him like that.”

“She’d been badly frightened,” Morag pointed out. “She wanted to swim out to the rock with me and it was further than she could manage.”

“Showing off, I suppose, like you!”

This came uncomfortably close to the truth. “I’m very fond of

both the children!” Morag claimed.

“Especially when their father is around? Oh, don’t bother to

pretend with me! I’d do exactly the same!” Delia sank down on to

the bed and looked about her. “Where do you sleep? Or is that one

of your little marriage secrets?”

“No.” Morag wished that she had outgrown the habit of always

having to answer Delia’s questions, no matter how inconvenient

they were to herself. “I sleep on the other side of the house. Our

room looks over the sea too, but it’s at the other end.”

“Our room? Well done, my dear. I thought you were here more or

less as governess to those brats.” She frowned, her eyes cold and

hard. “That’s the impression I received from Perry. He isn’t in love

with you - but I suppose you know that?”

“Did he say so?” Morag couldn’t resist asking.

Her stepsister smiled slowly. “Now that would be telling! I must

say he’s the most attractive man I’ve seen for a long, long time. He

makes David seem a wishy-washy shadow of what a man can be. But

then I keep forgetting, you were in love with David, weren’t you?

Does Pericles know that?”

Morag fiddled with her fingers. “You were in love with David too!”

“Was I?” Delia laughed. Morag remembered that laugh of old. It was supposed to sound like the tinkling of a distant bell and had hours of hard practice behind its soft, clear tones. To Morag it sounded like the knell of doom.

“You said you were. He thought you were too. You know he did! He wouldn’t - he wouldn’t have taken you out otherwise!”

“Thus dishing you? My dear, I did you a favour. More of a favour than I knew, seeing you might have married him! It would have suited me a great deal better if you had!” Morag was astonished. “Why?” she asked flatly. “Why?” Delia laughed again. “Well, really, surely you don’t have to ask? It would have suited Pericles a great deal better too!”

Morag made no answer. She pointed out the towels the maid had left beside the dressing-table, and the various other facilities of the room, and then she turned to go. “If there’s nothing more you want, I’ll be with the children,” she said.

Delia yawned delicately. “Oh, but I was hoping you would unpack for me,” she smiled. “It was all such a rush, and you know how bad I am at folding things. I’m sure I’ve forgotten quite half of what I meant to bring with me!” “Why did you come?” Morag asked.

“Why? I thought you knew. I came to see your husband - at his request - against other things!”

“Then what was all that about your falling out with Daddy?” Morag said bluntly.

“He has been a trifle difficult lately. He was quite reassured when I said you would be home again soon. It was quite touching how worried about you he’s been, especially when you think how easily he took the David incident in his stride!”

“Oh?”

“Well, he did think that you'd killed David, and I don’t suppose he enjoyed the trial and all the gossip. It gave him a shock to find that anything to do with your mother could be less than perfect.” She slanted a look of pure dislike at Morag. “You always were naive about your father. I suppose you didn’t know that he avoided you because you look like your mother? I thought not! What a fool you are, Morag Grant!”

Morag’s hands clenched into two fists. “Morag Holmes,” she corrected.

Delia got off the bed and went over to the window, looking out at the clear blue sea and the beauty of the headland.

“But not for long,” she said to no one in particular. “Not if I can help it!”

CHAPTER TEN

Delia had no hesitation in accepting the offer of the loan of Dora’s car. Morag, already on edge by her stepsister’s attitude to her mother-in-law, tried in vain to suggest that she should hire her own, or should use the buses as Morag did herself.

“Why should I?” Delia had asked.

“I should have thought you’d know that!” Morag answered more tartly than she usually spoke to anyone.

But Delia only smiled. “It was you who was banned from driving!”

Morag bit her lip, hoping that Dora hadn’t heard that. “I still don’t think you ought to take Dora’s car. It isn’t easy driving in Athens and -and supposing anything should happen?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! What should happen? I don’t intend to use the car often. Pericles has offered to show me some of the countryside and I’m not likely to turn down an invitation like that to drive myself!”

Morag stiffened. “Where is he taking you?”

“Oh, some place near Athens. Eleusis, or Elefsis, I think he called it. I expect you’ve already been there?”

“No,” said Morag.

“Well, a governess can’t expect such little treats, can she? Cheer up, I’ll return him to you with a good grace when we get back.”

Morag’s eyes darkened. “Will you?”

“If he wants to be returned to you. Frankly, my dear, I think he’s more likely to have second thoughts about you - like David did! - and make some comparisons between us in which you can hardly expect to show up very well. I nearly died when I saw you in that old swimming-suit! How long have you had it? But then you never did put much value on glamour. David used to say you were the drab

sister - ”

“I don’t believe you!”

“About David? He wasn’t the kind, simple young man you thought him at all! I came as quite a relief to him, I can tell you. At least I knew how to kiss and wasn’t afraid to have a little fun! Do you bore Pericles too?”

Morag flushed. “I -I don’t want to talk about Pericles,” she said. “Or David either!”

“No?” Delia was plainly enjoying herself. “You wouldn’t! You’re the complete coward! Did you tell Pericles that you didn’t want me here? Or did you pretend that we’d always loved each other, like good girls should? He didn’t mind my coming here! I can stay as long as I like!” Morag said nothing. She looked up as her mother-in-law, until now on the verandah outside, came in and smiled at them both. “Ah, there you are, Delia,” she said with every sign of pleasure; “Did Morag tell you that my nephew is staying here for the time being? Pericles is so jealous of Morag that the poor boy has been feeling quite out of things and he’ll be all the more pleased to entertain you. I’m expecting him home any time now and I promised him I’d be on hand to introduce you,”

Morag stared at her mother-in-law in astonishment, only to receive a fierce dig in the ribs and a command in Greek to sit up and behave herself, which she recognised as much by the tone of voice as by how often she had heard the same rebuke addressed to Peggy.

“Pericles has asked Delia to visit Eleusis,” Morag said in a small voice.

Dora sniffed. “A very industrial site,” she commented. “I suppose he wants the children to see it. They are beginning to interest themselves in growing things and it’s time they learned the story of Demeter and how she gave the first crops to humanity. Of course she was worshipped there more as the mother of Persephone, who came back from the dead. But I don’t suppose you want to hear our old stories, do you? You look a very modern young lady to me.” It was obvious that Delia wasn’t sure whether this was a compliment or not. “I like to enjoy myself,” she said, less sure of herself than Morag had ever seen her.

“With my son?” Dora looked faintly bored. “He looks more Greek than English, don’t you think?” Her eyes narrowed. “Do his looks please you?”

“Why yes, I suppose so,” Delia answered.

“In Greece, it is the woman who pleases the man!” Delia managed a light laugh. “Isn’t that kind of thing reciprocal anywhere?”

“Do you think so?” Dora, too, laughed softly. “No, a man may play with a pretty toy, but when it comes to his wife - then he will make sure that he is the only man in her life. Marriage, in Greece, is not a

thing to be taken lightly. Every Greek wants a bride who will put him at the centre of her existence. Morag makes the ideal wife for Pericles in that respect.”

Delia opened her eyes very wide, looking the picture of innocence. “But didn’t you know? Morag was engaged to another man before she came to Greece!”

Dora looked at her with dry amusement. “You mean this David of yours? If Morag had been a Greek girl, she would have been protected from the attentions of a man like that! Girls of good family are not made use of by their relations in that way here, not even by their more worldly-wise sisters!”

“Ouch! said Delia. “Some time I’ll tell you my side of that story, Mrs. Holmes. Morag isn’t always very reliable when it comes to telling the truth!”

“Morag has yet to tell me anything.” Dora rose to her feet. “She didn’t have to. I know very little about her family, as a matter of fact, but she has a family here now and she is very dear to us all.” She made a more familiar gesture of impatience. “Those children! For heaven’s sake, Morag, go and see to them! I will not have them making such a noise in the house. It’s time Peggy learned a little restraint and didn’t shriek like that!”

Morag needed no second bidding. She much preferred the company of the children just now. They knew nothing of the undercurrents Delia had brought with her, that swirled dangerously about Morag, threatening her happiness with the spite of years. It was good of Dora to defend her as she had, but it was Pericles’ opinion that mattered, and Pericles had agreed to Delia coming to Greece. Worse still, he showed every sign of enjoying her company as much as David had before him!

Morag did her best not to encourage the children when they told her what they thought of her stepsister.

“She’s awful!” Kimon said stolidly.

“Yes,” said Peggy, “she’s awful!”

“But she’s very pretty,” Morag said.

“I like looking at you better,” Peggy assured her. “I don’t want to draw her. Her eyes are awful! You have nice green eyes, hers aren’t even blue! They’re - ” She broke off at a loss for words. “They’re horrid!”

Kimon nodded. “Like pebbles,” he put in.

“Some people think pebbles very pretty,” Morag said, trying not to laugh. “Her eyes are grey, if you want to know!”

“They’re not. They’re not anything much - and she changed into a blue dress and they still weren’t anything much!”

Morag gave Peggy an exasperated look. “Don’t let her hear you say that!”

“Why not?” Kimon asked. “If Peggy were to paint her, she would have to know, wouldn’t she? It seems a reasonable thing to discuss to me.” “Oh, does it? Well, I think it’s just an excuse for making personal remarks! She’s my stepsister, don’t forget!”