The Mammoth Book of Dracula (18 page)

When the evening was over Thompson felt as though he had known this couple all his life. A naturally reserved man, he was drawn out by the brilliant conversation of this pair and especially through Karolides, was led into another world; one where money was no object. But this was no mere vulgar matter of acquisition but the accumulation of funds for specific purposes; although he was too courteous and tactful to mention it, his host had done much to alleviate suffering and poverty in the world with the great outpouring of his wealth; this Thompson already knew from a quick study of the financial pages of national newspapers.

The girl too, with her own interest in art and culture, made a deep impression on him, as might have been expected. He did wonder why, with all the assets at their disposal, the couple did not stay at one of the big international hotels that were scattered along the coast, but assumed that natural modesty and the discretion already displayed by the couple were the reasons behind it. After all, it was fairly obvious that they would be recognized at one of the great palaces and would probably run into friends in the international set. He remembered too, that the girl’s health had not been good. Then he dismissed the question from his mind; after all, it was none of his business.

When they parted at the entrance to the dining room, Karolides laid his smooth, manicured hand on his guest’s shoulder in a discreet gesture of affection.

“Consider us your friends”, he said in a deep, resonant voice.

Thompson saw that the girl’s eyes were fixed on him with a particular brilliance and he could not resist their appeal. He mumbled his thanks and made his way somewhat awkwardly up the fine marble staircase with the wrought-iron balustrade that led to the guests’ rooms, instead of taking the small, creaky lift. When he sought his bed he lay awake for a long time, listening to the distant murmur of the sea. He felt a little feverish, but his somewhat overheated state owed nothing to the wine.

~ * ~

III

Thompson was up early the next morning, bathing and shaving himself quickly and was downstairs for breakfast by half-past eight. When he entered the dining room he felt slight disappointment, mingled with relief, to find it occupied merely by a sprinkling of middle-aged ladies toying with their coffee and croissants. Disappointment at not seeing Ravenna; relief that he might not have to make small talk in the presence of her father, when he wanted to take a walk with her alone and find out more about her.

The illness of which he had heard also intrigued him; as a scientist as well as a medical man, for he had several doctorates, he was professionally concerned as well as in a friendly capacity. But there had been a pallor in her features which he had noted and which was not normal in such a young and vivacious woman, though it had not been obvious the night before. Possibly the wine and the warmth of the summer night had temporarily dispelled it.

He was just going out when he saw, through the wide windows facing the sea, Karolides and Ravenna passing along the front of the building where they got into a big open touring car parked in the driveway. As they disappeared down the steep, winding road that led to the Corniche and the open sea, he had a sudden stab of disappointment. It was absurd, of course, as he barely knew the couple, but there was something about the girl that captivated him. He had been too busy in his career ever to contemplate marriage and now that he was approaching forty, and had narrowly escaped death a short time before, he was conscious that there were a great many things in life that he had missed. A wife, for one thing.

Most men regarded matrimony or at least, carnal love, as one of the most important things in life, if not the most important, and he had smiled rather superciliously when listening to colleagues’ stories of frustrated hopes or amorous adventures. Now things were different, and he had a glimmer of hope that Ravenna might find him attractive. It was utterly absurd, of course, because she and her father lived a jet-set life; travelling the world in great luxury; and obviously me girl would attract many men. In fact, she might already be engaged to be married. He had never thought of that. He bit his lip with frustration, mumbled some banality to the restaurant manager and went out into the blinding sunlight and set off to walk down to the town, which was slowly composing itself from out of the morning haze.

He wandered idly about the shops, keeping mostly in the shade, avoiding the tourists and holidaymakers who thronged the beaches fringing the Corniche. He ate a frugal lunch at a small restaurant in a side street where fans in the ceiling distributed cooled air from small vents. As he went out and back toward the beach, he was arrested by the sight of Karolides’s big green touring car, parked outside a bar. As he approached, the couple came out of a gown shop a little farther down, the girl laden with expensive-looking parcels. Their smiles were open and welcoming.

“Just the person we wanted to see,” said the Greek, after they had shaken hands.

“I have to attend to business here in town, but Ravenna wants to go swimming. Would you be kind enough to accompany her?”

Thompson was caught unawares.

“Certainly,” he said hesitantly. “But I have no costume.”

Karolides smiled again.

“That can soon be taken care of. I own a small club out on the point there. They will supply you with a costume and towels. Ravenna is a member, of course, so you will have no difficulty. And I will come by with the car and pick you up at six o’clock, yes.”

Thompson felt the girl’s hand on his elbow and he joined her in the back seat, while Karolides drove swiftly but well along the Corniche. Presently they came to a place where a
calanque,
a sort of creek, joined the sea. Here, on the headland was a dazzling white building, flanked by ornamental trees and bushes that threw welcome shade. There were terraces, striped parasols, men and girls engaged in idle chatter and, somewhere an orchestra was playing, or, Thompson mused, perhaps it was a radio.

There were waves and shouted invitations from the people on the terrace as Karolides drew the big machine to a halt, but he smilingly shook his head. Thompson and the girl got out, their shadows dark and clear-etched in the dust.

“Until six o’clock, then,” and Karolides expertly reversed and drove smoothly away along the coast road. Thompson followed the girl, who had not uttered a word during the drive, waiting while she spoke to one or two people at tables and then they were in the cool interior of the club where a discreet manager summoned a white-coated attendant who led them to locker rooms for men and women and left them.

“Ten minutes,” Ravenna said in a low voice.

“I’ll be on the terrace,” Thompson said.

He was turning toward the door labelled HOMMES when he found the attendant at his elbow. He thrust a plastic case in his hand which bore the printed figure 6 on its cover. Once inside the cubicle, Thompson found scarlet trunks, toilet things, a comb, soap and brush, and three huge towels. When he had hung his clothes in a grey steel locker and fixed the key by its cord on to the elasticized waistband of his trunks, he surveyed himself in the mirror.

He felt the sight he presented would probably not disgrace the girl, but he was a little worried about the scars on his legs—souvenirs of his accident—although he knew they would fade to thin white lines within a few weeks. He went outside into the blinding sunshine and sat down in a cane chair to await Ravenna. The sea looked green and cool and inviting, and there were metal steps with cork inserts that led down from the promenade into the gentle undulations of the water.

He turned as a shadow fell across the tiling. He was prepared for the sight of an exceptional woman, but he was so struck by the bronzed apparition that bent over his chair that he let out an involuntary gasp of admiration. The white bikini made a striking contrast to her brown skin which, however, gradually faded out toward the throat, leaving her face clear and free from the ravages of the southern sun. But the pallor he had previously noted had receded, and the smiling young woman pretended not to see his embarrassment and laughingly told him to follow her.

She made a perfect dive from the swimming club promenade into deep water and was already creaming her way to a distant moored raft before Thompson had even put his somewhat hesitant feet upon the ladder. The water was cold and stinging at the first shock, as it always was in this part of the Mediterranean, but the warmth returned to his limbs as he ploughed doggedly on behind the sparkling wake the girl was leaving. She swam with beautiful flowing strokes, and he guessed that she had been an expert swimmer from a very early age.

Now Thompson felt a sense of well-being that he had not had for some time and he realized that his complete recovery could only be a matter of weeks. It was not only his medical expertise that told him this, but it was reinforced by the beauty of his surroundings and the presence of the new friends he had made. That they were friends he had no doubt; with their wealth and background the couple had no reason to befriend an obscure scientist other than on purely social grounds.

The girl was laughing down at him as she drew herself up on to the raft with lithe supple movements. He trod water, then rested his forearms on the warm surface of the inlay that rocked gently in the swell. Once again he noticed that Ravenna had very beautiful teeth. Like everything else about her; for the rich, he thought with inward amusement, everything was perfect.

“I am so sorry, Mr Thompson,” she was saying in her very precise English.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She shook her head, sending a fine spray of water from the dark tangle of her hair.

“Merely that I was thoughtless. I had forgotten that you were recovering from a severe accident and thought to race you to the raft. But you kept up well. I do hope I have not hindered your recovery.”

Thompson laughed.

“Hardly.”

But as he drew himself up to sit beside her, there were tingling pains in his legs which warned him that he must not over-exert himself at this stage in his convalescence.

“You are sure?”

She was serious again now.

He nodded.

“Quite sure. But thank you for your concern.”

The goodness of salt air and the gentle murmur of the sea, combined with the healing rays of the sun, made him even more conscious of the importance of good health. Without it life was practically meaningless. He had a quick flash of the oncoming car and closed his eyes quickly to blot out the impact.

Ravenna was very close to him now.

“Is everything all right? You turned quite pale.”

He was touched by her concern.

“It was really nothing Just a momentary recollection of my accident. The contrast between then and now was quite overwhelming.”

“That is good then. Let us enjoy the sun.”

She lay back on the raft, stretching out long legs, closing her eyes against the brilliant light. Thompson did the same. Rarely had he felt so contented as time slipped by. Presently he slept. Later, he turned over. Somehow his flank brushed against the girl’s side. In an instant she was upon him, her mouth on his in a fierce, primitive kiss. Almost without any awareness of what he was doing, he had undressed. The girl was already naked and they made love in the blazing sun, oblivious to their surroundings. Once an elderly man swam close and gave them a disbelieving stare before splashing loudly away in the direction of the shore. When they had exhausted their lust, they drew apart, Ravenna laughing into his face.

“I hope I didn’t hurt your leg!”

Thompson laughed in turn.

“Hardly.”

They quickly resumed their costumes and plunged into the sea, holding on to the ropes at the side of the raft, staring intently into one another’s eyes.

“I do not know how that happened,” he began hesitantly.

Ravenna gave him another of her secret smiles.

“Does it matter?”

“Perhaps not.”

On the raft Thompson had noticed that the girl had a small, triangular tattoo high up on her right thigh, which seemed to contain a minuscule heraldic symbol within it. Now, as they trod water at the edge of the raft, face to face, he discovered for the first time that she had a similar, but smaller symbol in the deep valley between her breasts. She intercepted his gaze.

“It is a fancy within our family. We are very numerous and widespread. All the women wear this crest. By that way we can know one another.”

Thompson was somewhat taken aback. He hoped it did not show on his face.

“I do not understand. Isn’t that rather an intimate form of identification?”

Ravenna laughed once more, showing very white teeth.

“You do not understand, certainly. We live mostly in tropical climates. The women wear low-cut dresses and are often in bathing suits.”

“You are extraordinarily like your father,” Thompson said.

Ravenna looked at him with a serious expression on her face.

“He would be very amused—or annoyed—to hear you say that.”

Before he could ask what she meant the girl went on, “Let us return to the shore. I see that the car has arrived.”

She must have had extraordinary eyesight because, as they swam slowly back toward the beach, it was some while before he could pick out Karolides’s opulent vehicle in the bathing-club car park. Thompson felt embarrassed and ill at ease, but the Greek was in good spirits.