CHAPTER IV

A DOZEN pairs of dark eyes raked Tessa's slim figure, from her shapely bronzed legs to her face. She was used to this by now and merely sent a smile in the direction of the men sprawling outside the cafe, just idling their time in the true Cypriot fashion. She had walked down from the house, to collect any letters which might be waiting at the cafe.

'On the shelf, Madam Lucinda.' The proprietor gave her a broad smile and indicated the box, high on a shelf, where the letters for the foreign residents were kept. The letters for the locals were lying scattered about on the shop counter.

'None today.' A heaviness in her tone, and Tessa frowned'. Why this deep sense of disappointment? Letters from home were important, and welcome, but they weren't her life. Her whole world and being were centred on her husband ... why, then, should she have suddenly become avid for the sight of a letter from England?

Emerging from the cafe she met Christos, a sprightly old man from the village who, having once spoken to her in excellent English, now seized every opportunity of conversing with her.

'Ay good morning to you, Madam Lucida. Are you gomg to your home?'

'I thought I'd call on Maroula and Spiros on my way up.'

'Mr. Spiros has gone to Kyrenia. I am going your way, so we shall walk together.'   .

'Where did you learn to speak English?' she asked curiously as they left the Abbey behind and took to the narrow lane that served as the main thoroughfare of the village.           .

'Well now, I was in the police force, many years ago, and the superintendent said that any of us who failed to learn English would be thrown out.' He turned to her and laughed, 'So Christos was wise, and did as he was told.'

'Was it easy?' Christos was so fluent, using long, and uncommon words, that Tessa had to ask the question.

'No. I found it very hard at first. But if you are threatened with poverty you win overcome many difficulties. Come to this side, Madam Lucinda, the bus approaches.'

The road was narrow, the houses often jutting out, and Tessa always marvelled at the way the 9US and the tourist" coaches from Kyrenia managed to negotiate the bends. But they did, most successfully, and at quite a reasonable speed.

'Do you work now, Christos?'

'I'm a farmer; and I have many lemon groves.'

'The lemons make a lot of money?'

He nodded. The lemons made much money.

'This is my house,' said Christos, stopping by a honey coloured mud brick building. It was tall and narrow, with shutters cracked and faded by the sun. 'So, Madam Lucinda, I will bid you good morning kalimera.'' The inevitable cheery smile appeared on his dark, 'good humoured face, and he raised a hand in salute as she left him, to continue her way past the ancient houses, built in higgledy piggledy fashion, with lots of steps and verandahs, with weathered shutters and plaster often cracked and peeling off the walls. But everywhere there were flowers; they were some  times in attractive earthenware pots, bought from the potter in another village, but more often than not they were in old rusty cans, paint tins, buckets and even plastic washing up bowls. These would be placed anywhere on the verandahs and steps, or in the porch. The gardens, blazing with colour from the hibiscus and bougainvillea and many other semitropical plants, would invariably house every kind of junk from parts of ancient cars, disintegrating from the rust, to old prams and bicycles. Scratching about among this miscellany of hoarded treasure would be the hens and turkeys; tethered close by would be the goats, searching the wilderness for food, while at the same time keeping an eye on their snow white kids. Here and there, breaking into this atmosphere of Eastern lethargy, would be a shining white villa, spruce and tended with care. The garden would be well kept, and the trees pruned.' .. but the pot plants would still be growing in the rusty cans.

'Madam Lucinda' Maroula, all smiles, came from the side of the hotel, her arms full of artichokes which she had just cut from the field at the back. 'Madam , Lucinda, you been for a walk in Bellapais village?'

'I went to the cafe for the letters.'

'Many letters you get?' She put down the artichokes on the step, then straightened up, her brown eyes sparkling, as they always did.

'No, Maroula, there were no letters today.'

'Today,' said Maroula, raising a finger, 'I get 'one letter from my son. He want money. Oh, always you need much money in London. Cyprus, Madam Lucinda, it is cheap, no?'

'Some things are cheap, Maroula, but many things here are much more expensive than in England.'

'No!' Emphatically she shook her head. 'Cyprus is very cheap'

Ignoring that, Tessa sat down on a deckchair and stared pensively up to the ragged heights above. 'There's cloud on the mountains today.'

'Yes, much cloud, Madam Lucinda. Today weather no good.'

'Rain is needed, though. Will it rain, do you think?'

'No. This year not much rain. Madam Lucinda, what you like to drink? A little wine?'

As a 'little' wine meant a large 'tumbler, full to the brim, Tessa politely refused, saying she would have an orange drink.

'I have one with you,' said Maroula a few moments later when she appeared with the drinks. 'Cheers, madam. To long and happy life.' They drank aud Maroula continued, in a much more serious tone. 'You very lucky. English girl not to have house. Cypriot girl must have house.'

Tessa frowned. 'You mean, the girl still has to bring a dowry?'

'Yes, madam! Girl must have house.' ,  

'Oh no, this can't be true now. Don't the young men ever fall in love?'

Emphatically Maroula shook her head. 'Girl must have house.' she said again.

'You ... did you have to give Spiros a house?'

'No give, madam. Girl just has house. I own house in village and so Spiros marry me. I sell house later and we buy this hotel.'

'But you're so happy—'

'Spires and me? Yes, very happy.'

'He would have married you, even if you hadn't a house? Yes, Maroula, surely he would.'

'Spiros? No, madam. Maroula have no house, Spiros marry other girl.'

Tessa sipped her drink, unconsciously shaking her head.

'It's so difficult to believe.' she said, but recalling a remark Martin had made about the life of the average

Cypriot.

They marry, and the typical village wedding's always conducted with a great deal of fuss and lighthearted ritual, but after one year the man will be found in the cafes and his wife will be confined to the home. It's only the wealthier, more enlightened Cypriots who take their wives and families around with them.'

'One man, Madam Lucinda, who live in a village long way off he have seven daughters. Not one marry, for man can't afford to buy houses. All daughters no marry just mind the hens and goats.'

Tessa put her glass on the tray and stood up.

'I must go, Maroula. I'll call in again tomorrow if I go down to the village.'

'Mr. Pavlos ... ? He very well?' 'Very well, thank you, Maroula.'

He was in the garden, stretched "full length on an air bed, his hands folded behind him, supporting his head. Tessa halted a little way off, a brooding expression in her eyes. For the first time she saw him as all Greek, with the arrogance and ruthlessness of his heathen forebears, those dauntless warriors who had had no respect for life. Death they accepted philosophically and looked to a future of' bliss among the pagan gods on the wild heights of Mount Olympus. As her father had said, Paul had acquired a veneer of Western culture, having lived so long in England ... but what of his inherent traits? His lids came down, and a hand was brought to shade his eyes almost as if the glare of the sun were too much for them.

He was deep in thought; suddenly his expression changed and she felt the disturbance of fluttering nerves. What we're those thoughts that caused a distortion of his handsome features and twisted his firm mouth into a cruel and almost diabolical line? With haste she spoke and a tender smile transformed his features once again.

'There aren't any letters, Paul.'

'For myself, I wasn't expecting any. Disappointed, dearest?'

She sat down on the rug which lay folded by his air bed.

'It's nice to hear from home.'

'Home?' He half turned towards her, his brows raised slightly.

'England.' she corrected, smiling. 'This is home.'

'For always?' he queried strangely, and she gave a little start ..

'But of course. What an odd thing to say, Paul'

'You'd ... never leave me?' He seemed tensed, she thought, and hastened to reassure him.

'I love you, Paul I don't think you realize just how much. How could I ever leave you ?' She shook her head in a gesture of bewilderment.' 'I don't know how such an idea could enter your head.'

'Sorry, my sweet.' He held out a hand; eagerly she clasped it, raising it to her cheek. 'I know you'd never leave me,' he added on a tender note.

'You're my life.' she Whispered. 'I want nothing more than to be with you here, for ever and ever.

For a moment he remained silent, 'his fingers moving gently across the back of her hand.' . 'Did you call and see Maroula?' he asked at length, changing the subject.

'Yes. She was telling me about the dowry a girl here has to bring, and said I was lucky.'

A smile of amusement curved his lips at that. 'But she knows you're not a Cypriot.'

'Perhaps she thinks I married one.'

'Most unlikely. In any case, a Cypriot marrying an English girl would not expect a house.'

'Because of course he'd be marrying for love.' He let that pass and after a while she said, 'Maroula's English is improving every day. She really works hard on it.'

'Who teaches her?'

'She teaches herself, from books.' Tessa gave a little laugh. 'Slowly, slowly; is her motto. Quickly, she says, is no good. Slowly, slowly is much better;' it goes right in,'

'Slowly, slowly .... .' An unfathomable inflection in his voice and Tessa looked swiftly at him. He turned his head and repeated in soft and even tones, 'Slowly ... slowly ... and it goes right in ... .'

The car arrived the following day. Tessa had an international driving licence, but a lie had been necessary when, after ordering the car, Paul had broached the subject of a licence.

'I got one before I came,' she told him, going a little pale, 'I thought I m rnight need it.'

A strange silence followed, and then Paul said, 'You were very sure you'd be staying, Lucinda.'

'No oh no! I didn't take it for granted you would forgive me, Paul. Please don't think that.'

No more had been said, although, for a time, Tessa had felt uneasy about the way Paul had accepted her explanation. For to her ears there was a subtle implication in his words, but as it was nothing she could define she dismissed it from her thoughts.

'We'll go for a run in it,' Paul said a short while after the car was delivered. 'Just into Kyrenia, and perhaps along the front.'

Having managed to get the feel of the car without much trouble Tessa began to enjoy the drive down into Kyrenia. Now and then, on rounding a bend, the snowcapped peaks of the mountains of Asia Minor would come into view across the blue sweep of the Mediterranean. Tessa talked to Paul, describing everything, but apart from a rather perfunctory comment on her driving, made at the beginning of the journey, he was strangely silent.

On reaching the town Tessa drove down steep and winding alleyways and at last reached the tiny horseshoe shaped harbour. She stopped the car and told Paul where they were.

'Shall we have some refreshments here?' she asked eagerly. 'The chairs and tables are all out on the front, and there are lots of lovely yachts and little fishing boats bobbing about.'

Paul agreed to her suggestion and they sat on the quayside, drinking under the shadow of the great Crusader castle which dominated the eastern end of the harbour.

'Can you smell the sea, Paul" He nodded.

'Tell me about the boats, Lucinda.'

'The fishing boats are brightly painted and look very gay. The yachts are gay, too, and their sails are reflected in the water and they make such funny shapes ... .' She tailed off, for Paul did not appear to be interested, in spite of his having requested a description of the boats in the harbour. 'Do you want to go now?' she added anxiously.

'Yes, I think so.' He reached for his stick, which he had placed on the chair next to him, and stood up. Dozens of dark skinned Cypriots were lounging about at the tables and they all stared at Paul as moving away from his chair, he held out a hand for Tessa to grasp. A little lump rose in her throat at his helplessness and she wondered if he was aware of the interest he caused. If so, then he must be unbearably humiliated and distressed. And suddenly she wanted to take him away right away from staring curious eyes, away from people.

'Darling, we'll go for a drive along the coast, and stop at the lovely little cove where we swam.'

'Yes, Lucinda, that is an excellent idea.' He paused and she saw a frown appear on his brow. 'We'll go to the shops first. I want to buy some dark glasses.'

She almost stopped in surprise. Many blind people wore dark glasses, she knew, but somehow she had never expected Paul to do so.

They found a shop and he made his purchase, putting the glasses in his pocket. But on reaching the cove and getting out of the car he immediately put them on. Did his eyes hurt him? she wondered anxiously, remembering the way he had seemed to shade them against the  sun while she had stood watching him yesterday. She wanted to ask him about it, but she refrained. His affliction was something never mentioned between them.

The following Sunday night they went down into the village to attend the Easter service in Bellapais Abbey. The square was thronged with people, both locals and tourists brought up from Kyrenia by coach. From the cafe came the strains of bouzouki music, and gathered round the huge bonfire were dozens of gay young people. Chairs were instantly produced for Paul and Tessa and they joined the laughing circle round the fire.

'The flames are very high.' she told Paul. 'And they're lighting up the ruins and giving them a lovely warm glow. The arches stand out so clearly—' 'Must you shout, Lucinda?' he interrupted curtly. 'There's no need to let the world know I can't see.'

'I'm sorry ... so sorry,' faltered Tessa after an astounded little silence. 'I didn't realize I was speaking loudly.' Her voice had been barely above a whisper, she knew that, because from the first she had spoken softly, so as to avoid causing her husband embarrassment. He made no response and she added hesitantly, 'It looks so beautiful, Paul, that I wanted to tell you about it.'  

'I'm not completely without imagination. I can feel the fire, so obviously I know it's lighting up the square.'

Tessa fell silent after that, but in a little while Paul took her hand, as if he sensed the deep hurt he had caused her.

'Something seems to be happening,' she whispered, brightening somewhat at his action. 'The coach drivers are talking to the policeman and waving their arms about, as if in protest.'

'I think you're right, something is happening. The music's stopped, and everyone's gone quiet.'

After the small lull the clamour broke out again, but this time there was no gaiety about it. The man sitting next to Paul made some remark in Greek; Paul nodded and the two men began to converse.

'The service does not begin until two o'clock,' Paul informed her, turning his head.

'Two in the morning! But you said s everyone said it starts at half past eleven.'

'The Bishop hasn't given his consent for it to start at eleven thirty. He says it mustn't start until two.'

Someone at the side of Tessa heard this and said in English. 'It always starts at half past eleven. It's never started at two in the morning.'

'I'm not waiting all that time,' someone else said angrily. 'We've come on the coach, but I'm certainly going to insist on being taken back.'

Everyone began to protest, but as there was no priest about it was naturally ineffective. The coaches soon drove away with their disappointed passengers, the cafe lights were turned out and a hose was played on the fire.

Paul was listening to the man at his side, who appeared to be well informed as to what was happening.

'The youths of the village' have disconnected the electricity in the church,' he told Tessa with a hint of amusement in his voice, 'and they've stuffed up the keyhole with wax, so when the priest does arrive he isn't going to get in.'

'There'll be no one here anyway,' said a yoke from behind.

'Will the priest turn up at two o'clock?' asked Tessa.

'I expect so.'

'What a shame! It isn't his fault this misunderstanding's occurred.'

'It'll be in all the papers next week,' declared a handsome young Greek with extreme satisfaction. 'This has never happened at Bellapais before.'

'We'd better move.' Paul stood up, for the man playing the hose was now round at their side and a fine spray of water was raining down on the few onlookers who were left. 'Come, darling, we'll go somewhere else.'

Tessa concluded that they would go home, but Paul was determined to attend church and she drove to another village a few miles from Kyrenia,

'Have you my candle, Lucinda?' Paul asked as they were about to enter the church. She had brought two long slender candles and she handed one to him.

'When you enter you put your money down and pick up a candle,' he told her. 'This you light not the one you have. But you'll see what everyone else does.'

It was so strange, entering the Greek church for the first time, and Tessa was uncomfortably aware of the stares of both men and women, for they could see she was not a Greek.

'You light it here,' she whispered, when she had unobtrusively guided him to the circle of lighted candles from which he must light his own. He moved his fingers up one of the candles until they almost reached the wick and then held out the candle in his hand. On running his fingers up it he realized it had gone past the flame. He tried several times, and the same thing happened. Tessa looked round; many eyes were on Paul and she turned again to watch him in an agony of uncertainty. For something warned her not to take hold of his hand, before all these people, and guide his candle to the light. Instinctively she knew he would be furiously angry if she did. But to stand there and witness this heart rending performance was more than she could bear, and with the tears actually running down her cheeks she pulled one of the candles from the sand in which it stood and when next Paul made an attempt she lighted his candle for him.

'You've done it now, darling,' she whispered, returning the one she had taken out. 'Shall I stick it in' the sand for you?'      

A small hesitation, and then he gave it to her.

'Just show me where to go here, somewhere will do. And then leave me.'     .

'Leave you?' she looked at him, stupefied. 'I can't leave you.' After guiding him to a place in the row she stood quietly beside him, listening in amazement to the babble of voices around her. Everyone seemed to be conversing with his or her neighbour, and voices were by no means kept low.

'I said leave me!' The words were actually hissed out and Tessa fell back, unable to believe her ears. 'Paul, I can't—'

'Get to the other end of the church  Can't you see you shouldn't be here'

Vaguely she glanced around. All the women were at one end of the church and the men at the other.

Everyone was staring at her, standing there with the men, but even though the colour rushed to her face and she became hot with" embarrassment she still knew a moment of uncertainty. How could she leave him? But at his angry inquiry as to whether she were still there she moved quietly away to the other end of the church and occupied the space between two aged black clad women.

Never had she been so utterly miserable and embarrassed. She could understand Paul's' feelings at her refusal to move from his side, but he should have known it was owing to her anxiety about him that she hadn't noticed what went on.

Tears filled her eyes again, but after a little while she tried not to be hurt. It was much, much worse for Paul, she thought, ready to excuse his anger.

For a long time she kept her head averted, so great was her confusion at what had occurred, but at last she managed to look up, and to her relief discovered she was no longer the object of interest. When would the service begin? she wondered, watching the door. The people still came placing their offerings on the tray, picking up their candles, lighting them and sticking them in the sand. They would then walk over to kiss the icons fourteen of them Tessa counted. Finally the icon in the centre of the church would be kissed with far more reverence than those on the wall   or so it seemed to Tessa, Small children were picked up by their mothers and held so that they could kiss the icons.

For half an hour or more this went on, then at last the service began, with the priest appearing and much chanting taking place among the men.

Eventually all the electric lights were extinguished, leaving only the illumination provided by the candles. Everyone lit the candle they had brought with them and the congregation surged towards the door, Tessa made a swift move to reach her husband's side then realized that the men were preceding the women.

What should she do? A dreadful panic seized her, and without caring what anyone thought she left the women and joined the men. But Paul had gone, and she searched about, becoming frantic as the moments passed. Her candle blew out and a man lighted it from his.

'My husband,' she cried, looking helplessly at him.

He pointed across the open space to where some of the men had gone. 'Oh ... thank you!' She sped away, pushing through when necessary until she drew close. Then she stopped, not daring to let Paul know she was there. Her candle had gone out again and she lighted it from another. The chanting  was utterly lost on her; she felt she would never attend a church service again as long as she lived.

The congregation was going inside again. Quite unable to take any more, she touched her husband's sleeve.

'Paul, I feel ill.' Can we do you mind if we go home?'

'You're not well? What is it?'

'I'm j just feeling ... .' To her dismay she started to cry. 'I just want toto go h home.'

'Very well." His answer surprised her, but immediately on hearing it she took his hand and within a couple of minutes they went in the car.          .

'What is it, darling?' he asked anxiously as Tessa drove slowly along the coast road towards Kyrenia. 'Are you all right driving, I mean?'

'Yes, I'm all right now.'

They drove on in silence after that, through the warm night air with the dark sea on their left and the jagged outline of the Kyrenia mountains on their right.

'Paul—' Tessa turned to him immediately they entered the house. 'I'm sorry for what happened. You see, I didn't know I had to be at the other end.'

'Of course you didn't, darling.' He put his arms around her and she laid her face against his coat. 'I was too impatient. I should have understood.' Tenderly he raised her face and kissed her. 'Forget all about it, Lucinda. It isn't in the least important.'

Not important? How little he knew every sharp word and there had been several occasions recently when he had used sharp words to her was like an edge of cold steel in her heart. Could one love too much? Was it wise to lay oneself open like this? To be so vulnerable to pain? She was trembling in his arms and he murmured soothingly, asking what was wrong.

'I can't bear it when you're angry, Paul It hurts so dreadfully.'

His hands caressed her, 'but there was something in his touch, something quite intangible ... and Tessa had the extraordinary urge to slip from his hold.

'It hurts dreadfully ... ? You must love me very much, Lucinda.'

'You know I do.'

'So deep a love now ... and yet—' Abruptly he pulled himself up. What had he been about to say? Was he remembering how he had been jilted? and wondering how anyone acting so callously then could be so loving now? But he did not know that the girl who had jilted him and the girl whom he had married were two very different people. 'Lucinda darling, you intrigue me.'

Her heart missed a beat, for his brow was furrowed in perplexity.

'I don't know what you mean?'

'So great a change—But no, I mustn't bring up the past. There's nothing to be gained by that.'

She stared up at him, bewilderment clouding her eyes.' His subtle reference to the past had been deliberate, she felt convinced of that ... and then he had immediately said they mustn't bring it up.

'Paul,' she whispered desperately, 'don't let anything spoil this lovely thing. Don't change—Darling, I beg of you, please don't change,'

'My Lucinda, of course I won't change.   Dearest, there are tears on your face. Why do you weep, my love?' His finger touched her cheek and flicked away a tear. 'Come, you take everything' far too seriously.' His finger now touched her mouth, and felt its quivering. 'A smile,' he commanded sternly. 'A smile on those lovely lips, and a glow in those eyes. Quickly want to know they are there'

Her lips parted then, but her lovely eyes remained shadowed. Some change ... some change so slight and vague that it was almost imperceptible, was taking place in their marriage.

The beach at Varosha, one of the most beautiful on the island, was almost deserted, for it was only seven o'clock in the morning when Tessa and Paul went out for their swim. They had spent two idyllic days at the

King George hotel, occupying their time swimming, sightseeing or just lazing about.

'The sands really are golden,' Tessa said as they left the dazzling blue water and sat down on the towel which Tessa spread out for them. 'Here's another towel, Paul.'      .

'Thank you, Lucinda.' He began to dry himself, and as Tessa watched she noticed that he held the towel to his face longcr than seemed necessary. It covered his eyes, and he seemed to be pressing his fingers against them, as if they were giving him pain.

After breakfast they visited the old city for the second time. On the first occasion they had left the car at the hotel and taken a taxi, as  then they would have a guide. This time Tessa drove, entering the city by the Land Gate.

'We're crossing the bridge over the moat now.' she said, her heart as light as the sky and the air around her. 'On your side, darling, is the ravelin, and it has a beautiful Gothic arch and there are the dungeons which the taxi driver told us about. Shall I stop for coffee when I see a nice pavement cafe.'

'Yes, Lucinda, we must have coffee.'

They sat in the square, and Tessa talked about the architecture of the cathedral and the Venetian Palace. And then her mind wandered to the story told by the taxi driver  about the bravery of the Venetian warrior Bragadino, who was captain of Famagusta during a nine month siege by the Turks.

'It makes me shudder,' she said after repeating what they had already been told. 'Imagine I being flayed alive '  

'I don't care to imagine it,' he returned with emphasis, but then he added, on a strangely discordant note, 'I suppose there are tortures equally hideous. It's amazing what the mind of man can think up.'

Her eyes fluttered, to his face; it had become hard and set, but even as she watched an even greater change took place as his mouth twisted into an ugly, almost sadistic curve. He might have been thinking up some infernal form of torture himself, she thought, a tiny shudder passing through her,

'Shall we go now?' she hastily asked, and at his smile she was enveloped once again in warmth.

'I leave it all to my chauffeur,' he said a moment later when she asked where he would like to go.

'We shall go to Othello's Tower, then, where the innocent Desdemona was so foully and unjustly done to death.' There was a hint of banter in her tone; ignoring it Paul murmured, as if the words were not for his wife's ears at all, 'Innocent .... Where, I wonder, does one find an innocent woman?' A laugh, scarcely audible, left his lips. 'Any punishment that comes to a woman is usually well deserved.'   

His words wiped the smile from her lips and the joy from her heart. What was this subtle insinuation? Somehow Tessa felt she herself was involved. These two heavenly days and now this odd and inexplicable change.

All interest and enthusiasm had been drained from her and she talked listlessly, passing comment on the Tower and, the walls and the churches, rather than describing them.

'Perhaps you would like to go back to the hotel' she suggested, anxious to cut short the tour, for Paul had not spoken to her since they left the square.

'A good suggestion. We'll spend the afternoon on the beach.'

They changed immediately on reaching the hotel, and after taking drinks in the Terrace Bar they went out on to the sands.

'My sunglasses, Lucinda,' he said as he sat down in a deckchair. 'I've forgotten them. Would you mind fetching them for me'

She rose at once and went to do his bidding, her mind in a turmoil. What was wrong with his eyes that he kept experiencing this discomfort.

On handing the glasses to him she opened her mouth to make a tentative inquiry, but changed her mind. For she suddenly experienced a sensation of danger. Some instinct warned her that she was nearing the edge of a precipice, and that any mention of the past or anything pertaining to it could take her very close to the point of disaster.

Later, when they went in to change for tea, Paul caught Tessa to him and asked if she were enjoying the holiday.

'It's perfect.' A few hours ago she could  have breathed those words with truth, but now ... 'What about you, Paul, Are you enjoying it?'

'What more could a man want than a beautiful and loving wife, the sun above and the warm calm sea to swim in?'

Somehow his, words were evasive; Tessa felt her heart beats quicken as a tinge of fear swept through her body.

'You didn't answer my question.'

'I've enjoyed it.' His hands explored her shoulders and her back, slowly, possessively, 'What is the colour of your bikini? This isn't the one you usually wear.'

'This is pink and black.'

'And very brief—But you always did wear brief swimming things, didn't you, Lucinda?' One hand came round to assess the size of her sun top. 'Nothing much at all.' A pause and then, 'How quickly your heart beats!' The colour rushed to her face, and as if aware of it Paul touched her cheek, 'Blushing ' A laugh echoed in the room. 'Why, Lucinda, this is something else I'm learning about you. For somehow I didn't think you'd be shy especially as you've been married for over three weeks.' Tessa was mute. Not only was Paul mocking her, but there had entered into his tones a hint of contempt. 'You haven't told me why your heart is beating so fast. Excitement?' he queried with a touch of humour. 'Or could it be ... fear?' No humour now as he waited with faint expectation for her reply,

'Paul,' she trembled, 'I don't understand you in this mood, What are you thinking?'

'Ah, my thoughts. Those, Lucinda, I can keep secret .

All my actions are known to you because I need your help but my thoughts? They are my own.' And without allowing her time to think up some comment he pulled her to him and kissed her gently on the lips, She responded, and yet a terrible ache tugged at her heart.

Dinner that evening was a gay affair, for some English people who had chatted on several occasions with Paul and Tessa, and who were returning to England the following day, suggested they make a foursome, Paul agreed and the waiter gave them a larger table.

The meal over, they all went into the bar, Paul was in a most attractive mood and Tessa's spirits rose again. He looked so bronzed and handsome, and she felt so proud to be his wife. He spoke to her endearingly and it was easy to see that the other couple were impressed by the adoration he appeared to be bestowing on his young wife.

Eventually the party broke up and the English couple went up to their room.

'Let's take a breath of fresh air?' suggested Paul, and they went out into the street.

No sooner had they stepped outside than. Tessa was enthusiastically hailed, and she turned in surprise, wondering who it could be.

'Martin! ' she exclaimed. 'How nice to see you! '

'And you.' He glanced at Paul, and then he noticed that Tessa was holding his hand. 'I promised to take you around, remember, but .. ."

'Martin, meet Paul, my husband. Paul, this is Martin. I think I mentioned meeting him on the boat coming over,'

Paul held out his hand, a stiff and half reluctant movement, but his voice held a pleasant note as he passed a moment or two in conversation with the young man.

'Well, I suppose I must go,' said Martin at length. 'You've certainly surprised me by introducing me to your husband. I never dreamed you'd come over here to get married.' He laughed, said good night, and left them, going over to a car he had parked just across the road.

Paul's whole manner changed when, a little while later, they were in their room.

'So you'd arranged for him to take you about, had you?' His voice was like cold steel and his jaw was set and harsh.

'No,' she answered hastily. 'That was just his way of speaking. You see, if if you hadn't wanted me '

'You intended consoling yourself with someone else?'

'You frighten me,' she whispered convulsively. 'Paul, what's happening to our marriage?' She went to him, and put her hands against his chest. 'You promised .you wouldn't change.'

'All people change.'

'But—'Bewilderedly she stared at him, as if she would read his thoughts. 'We've been married less than a month, and I love you so—'

'Love! Yes, you love me,' he agreed exultantly. 'You'll always love me. Come, show me how much' He swept her into his arms and kissed her roughly, without respect. 'Show me how much, my worshipful Lucinda my beautiful wife whom I cannot see. '