The Girl Under the Olive Tree (8 page)

Later that day Penny left a note for Evadne, gathered up her new carpetbag and suitcase and made for the British School, leaving her luggage with the concierge there. It was still light as she made her way for the first time up the high mount of Lycabettus towards St George’s Chapel at the summit. It was a long, slow climb, every step distancing her from home and family. Half-way she halted in panic, knowing she ought to go back and say goodbye to Evadne and Walter, who would be confused, angry and frightened by her leaving. She’d drawn close to her sister in these past months and she’d miss her company. But the only way was forward through the brush of thyme and sage and buzzing insects, on and on to the little white chapel. Once there she stood in awe, watching the sun set on life as she‘d known it. The palette of sky as it slid to the west was streaked with lavender, ochre, pinks and apricots. The sight of it brought tears of relief and wonder at such beauty. How could she even think of leaving such a majestic place?

She found a quiet corner to sit and watch the city lamps slowly light up as evening turned into night.

Early in the morning she arrived at Joan’s bedroom door, dishevelled and exhausted, having spent the night sitting in the chapel, knowing there was no going back.

‘Where on God’s earth have you been? They’ve been out searching for you. Honestly, Penelope, I thought better of you. Your sister is so worried. You can’t just walk out on people like that,’ she scolded. Then, seeing Penny’s stooped figure, her look of exhaustion and fear, she relented. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve eaten a thing. We’ll get something from the kitchen. You’d better go and explain yourself to Bruce while you’re here. He’s had Walter at his door thinking you’d eloped with him into the hills.’

Penny sat down on the edge of Joan’s bed. ‘Have they gone?’ she asked anxiously.

‘I don’t know. None of my business, or it wasn’t. What were you thinking of, roaming the streets? You could’ve been robbed, or worse. There are some wild folk in Athens these days . . .’

‘I climbed Mount Lycabettus for the view and just stayed up there until dawn. The sunrise was so beautiful. I needed to think what to do next. I’m not going back,’ she cried.

‘What’s brought this on?’ Joan asked softly.

‘You did,’ Penny replied, looking up through tear-stained eyes. ‘You told me my life was useless and I ought to be working, earning my own living.’

Joan flung her hands in the air in protest. ‘Hang on! I never said anything of the sort. Don’t pin all this at my door. I may have pointed out the contrast between your situation and others less fortunate. You just don’t walk out on your family after all they’ve done for you, especially your sister.’

‘If I return to England, that’s me finished. There is no way will they’ll let me return.’

‘How do you know? Don’t be so dramatic. You have to face them and stand up for your decision. Running away solves nothing.’ Joan sat herself down beside her. ‘In my book, it shows you are still a kid who can’t face up to the disappointment and anger your parents must be feeling. They let you come here on trust and you will let them down.’

Penny jumped up, making for the door. ‘Whose side are you on?’

‘Yours, of course, but if you’re going to do this, do it properly and don’t burn your bridges. Families are important, meet them half-way . . .’

‘I’ve written them a letter explaining my decision. I am not going back.’

‘Then ask them to trust your decision, ask them to visit you to see how you are making your own way. And you’d better apologize to Bruce for putting him in a difficult position.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with him,’ Penny snapped.

‘Hasn’t it? I think he adds a little to the attraction of the city. I’m not blind, you follow him around like a lovesick puppy.’

‘I do not . . . Oh, shut up, Joan!’

‘Don’t be so touchy. I’m trying to be reasonable here. Come on, let’s get you some breakfast; see if we can repair a few burned bridges.’

Later, Penny found Bruce bashing tennis balls over the net. He laughed on seeing her peering round the wire netting. ‘So the Prodigal returns,’ he said, whacking another ball across the court. ‘You’ve caused quite a stir. Half the British legation were out looking for you.’

‘I’m sorry you got involved, but there was no need for them to panic. I just needed to think things through. Now I feel so foolish.’

‘Walter seemed to think I’d carried you off into my lair,’ Bruce laughed, but his eyes were concerned. ‘As if I’d dare? You’re a sweet girl but I’m not in the market for romantic entanglements, not with war on the horizon. I’m returning to England, finishing off my course and going to join up while I have choices. Things will shut down here if it comes to a fight so enjoy your stay while it lasts. John Pendlebury’s team is off to Crete soon. Come on, let’s go for coffee. I expect you’ve been up all night. Can’t have you wilting away.’

He found a perfect spot in a pavement café under a mulberry tree in Kifissia village. Penny was feeling exhausted but relieved he was still speaking to her after he’d had to brush off her romantic attachment to him. They settled down to share a huge slice of sticky baklava. Penny was trying so hard not to get the syrup all over her lips, Bruce burst out laughing. Then he looked her straight in the eye with those piercing dark eyes.

‘Look, if you’re determined to stick it out here, you’ll have to work hard. Joan will keep you up to scratch. Not sure they’ll let you on board yet for an excavation but try to learn the mountains while you’re here and keep yourself walking-fit, go hill walking. Archaeology is not for sluggards. Have you met Mercy Coutts and her friend Marion Blake? They’re superb at what they do. Mercy is so agile she can even outstrip John on their mountain treks. Ask their advice and you’ll not go wrong.’

‘You’re not cross with me then?’ Penny asked.

‘Why should I be cross? What you do is up to you. You’re following your dream, good for you. I just hope we get enough peace for the school to get on with its business. I’d hate anything to happen to all the excavation work we’ve done in Egypt and Greece.’

As they sat in the shade they looked to passers-by like any young couple out for a stroll, but Penny knew as far as he was concerned she was a nuisance, just a kid who behaved as mixed-up girls often did. He’d befriended her and she’d let him down, and now he was letting her down gently. He was off to follow his own destiny and she wasn’t part of it.

She suddenly felt flat and despondent, especially with Joan’s accusations still ringing in her ears. It was true that Bruce was the first man to excite her imagination and interest, but she realized now it was all a silly childish fantasy. He was confident, handsome in a rugged sort of way. She’d imagined she was special to him but she wasn’t and never had been. He’d burst that bubble and she must hide her disappointment. How could something be over when it hadn’t even begun?

Better make the most of this moment alone with him, save it up to chew over on a rainy day in the future, she sighed as she tucked into the last of her cake.

Only one thing mattered and that was her chosen career; the chance to do something interesting and be useful too. She would make the most of her opportunities and show her family that Penny George would succeed.

Penny braced herself for a tearful reunion with Evadne and a telling-off from Walter, but no one was at home when she called. Kaliope said they’d left as planned, then shut the door in her face. She was in disgrace and on her own now.

Funny how the next few weeks seemed to be full of farewells. Everyone was disappearing into the hills, across to Crete or returning home on vacation. Joan left for England and Penny found lodgings with Miss Margery McDade, a retired teacher who taught music and sometimes helped out washing and cataloguing artefacts in the stratigraphic workroom.

The Pendlebury expedition did not need her services so it was back to washing dirty artefacts from recent digs, and drawing practice and trying to remember all the things Joan had drummed into her. Money was tight and she was glad to have learned all Joan’s little schemes to stay afloat, but she sold her pearl necklace to fund her stay.

Athens was hot in early June and it was a relief to find coolness in the wooded groves of Mount Lycabettus whenever she could. She toured sites with Margery as her guide, just like any tourist: first to the sacred groves of Delphi, north of Athens, in the steps of pilgrims thousands of years ago who had come to hear the Oracle’s prophecies. Then they visited the Temple of Apollo high in the hills of the Peloponnese, built 2,000 years ago, through the rough winding tracks, down to the finger-lines of coast at Mani. Later they found the ancient city of Mycenae where the School was doing excavations, and it was Penny’s turn to show Margery around the site. The party invitations from Walter’s friends dried up on hearing about her disgrace. She was left to fend for herself, much to her relief. There was always a book to read, a museum to visit and lots of time for reflection, but life on a shoestring was not easy. Thank goodness for pupils wanting to learn English, and cheap food from the markets. Margery would always make her meals stretch for two. If she went hungry sometimes, it was the price of this new-found independence.

The silence from Stokencourt Place was deafening. Sometimes she felt she’d made a terrible mistake, doubts creeping in as she floundered around the fringes of the shrinking student community, hoping for distraction from her guilt, but without Bruce and Joan and the familiar gang, it wasn’t the same.

There was one young man who seemed as apart from the crowd as she was. Steven Leonidis had an English mother, who came from a landowning family in Wiltshire, and a father in the Greek diplomatic corps. He’d been studying at Oxford and had been schooled by private tutors and at public school. He was interested in all things Greek and the philosophy of the ancient Greek society. He liked hiking and sunbathing on the beach in the briefest of bathing trunks. The other students avoided him, for some reason. Once he started on political theory, the groups scattered and Penny was left clutching her coffee, not knowing how to make her exit without causing offence. He was lonely and so was she, so it made sense for them to go about together.

Steven was from a large Catholic family with many brothers and sisters, and was expected to join the army soon, but so far he, too, was reluctant to return home. He and Penny got into a habit of lazy lunches and swims, and trekking into the hills. At first it was a companionable sort of friendship. But Steve was very serious, and when one day he clutched her hand, suggested she return to England to meet his family, and asked if she would consider becoming a Roman Catholic, Penny knew it was time to cool things down.

At least someone thought her attractive enough to declare himself, even if he wasn’t Bruce. She found those slate-blue eyes hard when he started spouting how marvellous Germany was in recovering from such an insulting treaty. He was pleased the Greek Minister, Metaxas, was following this Hitler’s lead, transforming their economy by instituting public works. It was as if he were standing on a platform giving a speech and it hardly mattered if she were there at all.

‘Don’t you feel excited at how Nationalism is rising up all over Europe?’ Steven argued, and she gazed out over the beach, wishing she was back in the pink villa reading a book.’I don’t know how you can hang around with all those types at the BSA.’ He dismissed her friends with a wave of his hand.

‘You were happy enough to let them buy you drinks,’ she snapped. ‘They’re my friends. What’s wrong with them?’

He shrugged. ‘They have all the attributes of decadent fops and mix with the wrong type of Greeks, Jews, dagos . . .’ And you are boring, she thought. She’d had not forgotten the Nationalist march and the terrible scene she’d witnessed. How could he admire such people?

This friendship was now a bore to Penny. They made an expedition to the great theatre at Epidaurus with its perfect amphitheater and acoustics. It was funny whispering down in the epicentre, knowing you could be heard right out on the periphery. It was a wonder of construction and Penny felt such pride to know her ancestry harked back to such ancient times.

‘How can you be so fair and yet be of Greek stock? I thought you were true English,’ Steven said one day when they were sunbathing.

‘I’m just like you are on my mother’s side, but who knows where we British come from?’ she laughed, but he was not amused.

‘I wouldn’t boast of anything other than your mother’s family, if I were you. Mixing races is never a good idea. It’s bad enough having a Greek name to live down. Still, we are lucky, it is always the mother’s blood that is truest,’ he sighed ‘So we are both safe there.’

He really said the silliest things, but his attention soothed Penny’s loneliness. They would climb the path up Mount Lycabettus to watch the apricot moon rise and the stars compete with the twinkling lights of the city. Steven made brief fumbling approaches, kissing her ardently, making her body flicker into life with unusual sensations, but her mind stayed distant and unresponsive. This was not what she wanted, not from him. She would have to let him down gently, but how could she throw ice on his ardour and walk away without hurting his feelings?

She began to make excuses to cancel their hikes and coffee meetings but he was not easy to shake off. He knew where she lodged and that she was related to one of the diplomats, that she gave English lessons to foreigners. He kept asking questions about who she taught, and also about Walter, and the staff at the BSA, especially about John Pendlebury, and where he was excavating.

‘I don’t know his plans, hardly know the man,’ she replied. The summer had not turned out as she had planned and now Steven was boring her with endless and rather intrusive questions. ‘Why do you keep asking me all this stuff? Are you spying on them all?’ she accused, but he laughed it off. She even thought of warning Walter about his curiosity but since their falling-out, she took great trouble to avoid him. She was still embarrassed by her flight.

As the summer heat grew more oppressive, so her spirits sank to their lowest. She was in her bedroom taking a siesta when the downstairs bell rang. If this was Steven coming to call again she was ready to give him an earful. Miss McDade was out, so Penny went down herself and flung open the door with a curt ‘Yes?’ to see a man shadowed by a panama hat.