Who Pays the Ferryman Read online

  'But you wouldn't need to go to any Bank,' said Haldane quietly. 'I'd put up the capital.'

  Nikos shot him a look of surprise. 'You, Leandros!'

  'Of course. I have money to invest. Not a fortune but enough. And there's nothing I'd rather have a stake in than this. We'd be partners. The three of us.'

  Nikos turned to Annika trying hard not to appear as though he was seeking advice but the questions were there in his eyes and she saw them.

  'Of course it is up to you but that would seem like a good offer to me, Nikos,' she said casually. 'And I think there are few men in whom you could put greater trust.'

  Nikos nodded graciously to show that he had noted her views. Then he said to Elena. 'You would like this?'

  'Yes,' she replied, holding her breath.

  Once again Nikos turned his attention back to the sheaf of notes which Haldane had prepared. And while pretending to read them once more he turned the proposal over in his mind.

  'I will need to think about what is written here,' he said at last. 'All that you have said also.'

  'Naturally,' agreed Haldane.

  Nikos dropped the notes down onto the drawing. 'You know perhaps that another proposal has been made to us on which we have yet to give an answer.'

  Haldane nodded. 'So I believe.'

  'That must still be taken into consideration.' He reached for his glass and leant back in his chair. 'But I will say this now. I have a feeling that maybe you are pretty smart, Leandros.'

  'Of that I do not think there can be any doubt,' said Annika quietly.

  No longer able to hide his very real interest, Nikos straightened up in his chair once more. Then, his head bent over the drawing, he pointed to a feature on it and said to Elena with a note of excitement in his voice. 'The taverna. It would look good with these alterations, wouldn't it?'

  Elena gave Haldane a happy, grateful smile. 'Yes, Nikos,' she said humbly. 'It would look very good.'

  Haldane was feeling very satisfied and not a little pleased with himself. He looked across at Annika and saw that she was regarding him and smiling quietly. He raised his glass to her in salute.

  The music filled the softly lit room. Haldane sat on the settee while Annika, curled up on a large cushion lying at his feet, rested her back against it. A small log fire burned in the stone fireplace and, caught up in the sweeping, melancholic magic of Elgar's Violin Concerto, they both gazed into the flames, each cradled in the soaring ecstasy of the work and with the brilliance of Menuhin's interpretation as the background to their thoughts.

  Haldane had driven Annika home after their dinner with Nikos and Elena. He had opened the car door for her and he had thanked her.

  'For what?' she had asked.

  'For being there. For your support. For everything.'

  'I did nothing more than speak the truth,' she'd replied.

  'What I truly believe.'

  And then she had asked him in for a drink. Haldane had hesitated but only because he knew the dangers there were in accepting her invitation. Alone with her in her house, with the doors and shutters closed against the world and sheltered from reality would he, as he must, still be able to maintain that degree of distance which so far he had managed to keep between them.

  But then, seeing his hesitation, she had said, 'Please, Leandros.' And it was almost a plea and he had known that he could not refuse her; that there was no excuse he could make. But more than anything else he wanted to be with her and hold on to the comfort and joy of her presence and cherish being with her for just a little longer. Whatever the risk. So he had accepted, and gratefully.

  While he had chosen the music she had poured brandy for them both and then they had settled down before the fire to listen to it.

  Now, as the concerto soared to its end through the meditative but naked emotion of the accompanied cadenza, they were lost in its beauty; each carried away into another dimension beyond space and time and each in a web of their own dreams; separate but together. And at peace.

  The music stopped and the record player switched itself off but for a long time the spell remained unbroken.

  It was Annika who spoke first. 'Such longing, Leandros,' she said quietly, still staring into the fire. 'Such passion. No Greek could have written that.'

  Haldane was faintly surprised by this. 'With all their passion; he said. 'With all the longing they know. What about your mantinades here on Crete. They are so full of both.'

  Annika nodded. 'Yes. And in a mantinade, in all real Greek music, we express those things. But wildly, heedlessly, recklessly. And by so freely spending passion and longing it has become our common currency. That concerto is the anguish of a more disciplined soul. A lonelier one. And more moving perhaps because of that. It is the cry of a Northern European soul.' She looked at him. 'It is your music.'

  'But it speaks to you,' said Haldane.

  'Because it is universal. That is its genius. And each time you hear it, it is a new revelation of yet another truth. But even the best mantinade is the same truth told over and over again. That concerto is a well. Greek music is a spring. '

  She looked back into the fire again. Haldane regarded her thoughtfully. He sipped his brandy and then he asked, 'Could you live in Northern Europe, Annika?'

  'I have,' she said. 'For more than one year I was in England. Studying.'

  'And were you happy there?'

  'No. Because my life was empty.' She picked up a poker and stirred the logs in the fire. 'There was nothing shared in it. If there had been, yes I would have been happy.' Again she looked up at him. 'And if there was now I could live anywhere. Places are not important, are they?'

  'No,' said Haldane softly and without taking his eyes from hers.

  'Only people.'

  He nodded. 'Yes. Only people.'

  Unable to resist the impulse which suddenly swept over him, Haldane leant forward, gently tilted her head to him and kissed her. Then, angry with himself and frowning, he pulled back a little from her but their faces remained close. He started to say something but Annika placed a finger across his lips.

  'Do not say you are sorry,' she said.

  'Please.'

  Haldane’s frown deepened. She nodded. 'I think you were going to. I would not want that.' She took her finger from his lips. And Haldane managed a quiet smile while he searched in his mind for justification and all he could come up with was, 'You are a very beautiful woman.' It sounded weak and unconvincing, and he knew it.

  'If that is how I am to you then I am glad,' said Annika. 'For you are a very special man.' She put out a hand and drew his face to hers and again they kissed. And this time Haldane felt her lips part beneath his.

  Oh my God, how I want you! How I need you! The thoughts raced through his mind and threatened to tear him apart but then, even as he put his arms around her, he knew that he could not, he dare not, follow through. What she was offering had a price which he could not afford. Her future. And his peace of mind. Abruptly he drew his lips away from hers and got to his feet. Annika gazed up at him, hurt and bewildered. Feeling foolish but unable to explain, Haldane moved slowly round to the far side of the fireplace and stood there staring into the flames.

  Annika watched him for a while then she stood up and went to him. 'What is it?' she asked. 'What is wrong?' 'There's nothing wrong.' He glanced at his watch. 'It's late that's all. I must go.'

  Frowning again and confused, she searched his face anxiously. 'You do not have to leave,' she said softly. 'You know that, don't you? I do not want you to go.'

  Stricken and unable to bear the entreaty in her voice and the look in her eyes, he turned away from her. 'Good night, Annika,' he said.

  Feeling exposed and wounded by his reaction, and with nothing to explain it, Annika watched him as he walked across to the French windows. Then she turned her back to him. But she could not let him go like this. She had to know why. And the questions which, over the past few weeks, his calculated reserve had raised in her mind had to b
e answered.

  'There is something, isn't there, Leandros?' she said quietly. 'Something that is a barrier between us. Is it a ghost?'

  Haldane, about to open the French windows, swung round, startled. 'Why do you say that?' he said sharply, with a note of anxiety in his voice.

  Annika turned to him. 'Because there are times I think I see it in your eyes. That you are haunted. By something. By someone.'

  Haldane studied her thoughtfully and then he said, 'Annika, what would you say .. .' Perhaps this was the moment for the truth. 'What if I were to tell you ... ' Then he knew that he could not do it, dare not risk it. He broke off and shrugged helplessly.

  ‘To tell me what?' she begged.

  He shook his head. 'Nothing,' he said. There is nothing to tell. Goodnight.

  He opened the French windows and walked out into the night.

  'Where do I put my name?' asked Katerina Matakis wearily.

  She was seated at the table in the sitting room of the house in Neapolis.

  'There,' said Babis Spiridakis, indicating the place on the official form spread out on the table in front of her. Laboriously, Katerina signed her name. The lawyer moved it aside and put a duplicate in its place. 'And this one.'

  Katerina signed and then sighed as Spiridakis presented her with the triplicate. 'And now this. It is the last,’ he added encouragingly.

  With another sigh, Katerina put her name to the form.

  Taxes, taxes,' she grumbled. Thank God I have an honest lawyer.

  Spiridakis smiled and gathered the forms together. 'A friend,' he said.

  Katerina shook her head. An honest lawyer. I have known one friend to cheat another in business.' She looked up at him. 'And so have you.'

  Spiridakis laughed. Katerina studied him and then smiled. 'But yes, Babis. A friend also. A good friend. To me and to all my family.'

  'I hope so.' The lawyer put the documents into his briefcase. 'And for many years to come I trust. As to the property in Anoyia, I will write to Prevelakis. I am sure that he will be reasonable.'

  Katerina stood up and crossed to the window. 'Good,’ she said absently, staring out through the slats in the shutters.

  Spiridakis had sensed Katerina's strange, uneasy mood from the moment she had let him into the house and she had been distracted throughout his visit. Her mind had never really been on the business which he had called to discuss with her. He regarded her with some concern. 'You are looking tired, Katerina,' he said.

  She turned to him and nodded. 'I know. I am. I do not

  sleep easily. I have much on my mind.'

  'What is it that troubles you?' he asked.

  'Many things. My daughter.'

  The lawyer gave her a look of surprise. 'Annika?' he said. 'She is well. You have nothing to worry about there.'

  'She is a foolish child.'

  Spiridakis smiled and gently corrected her. 'A woman, Katerina. Foolish perhaps, yes. At times. But then which of us is not?'

  'She has been spoilt by the world outside Crete,' muttered the old woman. 'She is stubborn and headstrong. '

  'Spoilt?' Spiridakis shook his head. 'No.' Then he continued. 'Stubborn and headstrong, yes. She goes her own way. She always has. But when the path she chose has been difficult and she has stumbled not once has she complained. And when she has fallen she has picked herself up again. She has great courage.'

  'Perhaps,' Katerina admitted grudgingly. 'But she is obstinate. And her obstinacy has already once ruined her life. And now . . .' She broke off. She had no wish to pursue the subject any further Not with Babis Spiridakis anyway.

  The lawyer frowned. 'And now?' he probed.

  Katerina shrugged. 'She does not take my advice,’ she replied offhandedly. 'She does not listen. And Elena. I am also concerned about her. From what I hear she still refuses to sell the taverna.'

  Spiridakis gave her a wry smile. 'You seldom leave this house, Katerina. But is there anything that happens in Crete that does not reach your ears?'

  'Little. Of importance. And nothing that concerns the family.' Again she sighed. 'Elena should not humiliate Nikos so. She must show him more respect,' she insisted. 'He is her husband. She should follow him in all things. That is the duty of every woman. Why does she not agree to the sale, Babis? Is the price offered not a good one?'

  'Very good.'

  'Then why?'

  Spiridakis shrugged. 'I am not sure.'

  Katerina crossed to him and put a hand on his arm.

  'Talk to her, Babis,' she pleaded. 'Persuade her. As my friend. As her godfather. For her own good.'

  Spiridakis smiled sympathetically at her. 'If I was convinced of that,' he said. 'But in any case that may not be necessary. 'Katerina gave him a questioning look and again he smiled. 'You see,' he went on, wagging a finger at her. 'You do not hear everything after all. Another offer has been made. One which pleases Elena. And Nikos I think.'

  Katerina scowled, displeased at having been caught out as not being up to date on this new development. 'Oh.' she enquired stiffly. 'And what is this offer?'

  'A partnership. Capital to invest in the taverna and turn it into a very profitable business.'

  'Partnership,' repeated the old woman, intrigued 'Who makes this offer?'

  'He is a friend of mine,' said Spiridakis. And then added to reassure her. 'A good man. His name is Alan Haldane. The one who fought with us during the war and who we named Leandros. You must know him.'

  Slowly Katerina turned from him, moved back to the window and stared out of it once more. Her face was drawn and her mouth set in a hard, tight line. 'Yes,' she said almost in a whisper. 'I know him.'

  Haldane hurried down the stairs to answer the front doorbell. He had not seen Annika for three days. And, although she did not normally ring the bell, it was just possible that after their last meeting she would be hesitant about entering as informally as in the past. And understandably too. He opened the door and reacted with an expression of stunned shock and surprise. The woman standing on the doorstep was not Annika. It was Lorna Matthews, a bulging carrier bag from the Heathrow duty free shop in one arm and a suitcase at her feet.

  'Hello, Alan,' she said quietly and with a shy smile.

  'Well, here I am.'

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lorna kissed Haldane lightly on the lips, picked up her suitcase and stepped into the room.

  She's looking good, thought Haldane. Chic as always and with her blonde hair cut short in a style which suited her so well, her well-rounded and voluptuous body as desirable as ever. But what the hell is she doing here?

  He followed her into the room, leaving the front door open. Lorna turned to him, put down her case and thrust the carrier bag into his arms.

  'Here,' she said. 'I've brought you something. Two bottles of scotch and some of that tobacco you like.'

  It was then that Haldane saw how keyed up and diffident she was. She did not give him a chance to thank her for the gifts but, looking about her and admiring the room, she continued without pausing.

  'What a charming place! It's lovely! It really is. You know I couldn't believe it. Not at first. Not when your telegram arrived.'

  Haldane frowned and set the carrier bag down on the table. She spun round to face him, smiling excitedly. 'But it was true. And here I am. Let me look at you. You look marvellous. '

  Still totally bewildered, Haldane nevertheless managed to smile. 'You too,' he said weakly.

  'Living in Crete is obviously good for you.'

  The words tumbled from her in a flow which allowed for an interruption. She pointed to the carrier bag.

  'Well, let's have a drink, eh, darling? To celebrate.

  Frankly I can do with one. I'm all butterflies. And I'm talking too much. I know it. But I can't help it. I'm happy. Happy but just a little bit embarrassed. And this'll give you a laugh. Shy!' She nodded. 'It's true. Shy! Silly isn't it? But don't worry, it'll pass. A drink would be nice though. '

  'Of course,' said Haldane. He
took the carrier bag over to the sideboard, removed one of the bottles of whisky from it and, while Lorna watched, poured two drinks.

  'Straight?' he asked.

  'You've forgotten,' Lorna said with a smile and teasing him. 'Water. The same again.'

  'I'll get some,' he said. 'Ice?'

  She shook her head. 'No thanks.'

  Haldane went into the kitchen and took a jug from a shelf. Oh my God, he thought as he filled it from the tap, she can't have got my letter.

  Lorna was studying the photograph of his wife when he returned. She looked across at him, smiled and put the photograph down again. He added some water to the whiskies, picked them up, crossed to her and handed one of them to her.

  'Thank you, darling,' she said. She toasted him. 'Cheers.'

  'Cheers.'

  Lorna sipped her drink. 'I bet you were surprised to get my letter, weren't you?'

  Haldane nodded. 'Yes. Very.'

  Still very nervous and sipping her drink, Lorna started on a tour of the room, picking things up from time to time and examining them but without really seeing them and all the while keeping up an incessant flow of bubbling talk. 'I got your address from your brother. Had to really persuade him. He wasn't keen to give it to me. And he could have been so right.' She briefly studied the drawing of the caique on the drawing board. 'I see you're still working on boats.' She looked at him and smiled. 'I'm glad. You wouldn't be happy doing anything else.' Then she continued on her slow tour of the room. 'Yes, David could have been so right. I said to myself when I wrote to you, 'Lorna Matthews, you're crazy, do you know that? Crazy. He might just not want to know. Maybe he couldn't care less. All he'll think is that you're being pushy and that'll put him right off.' She glanced at him and her expression was serious. 'But I had to let you know.' And then she was off again, an uninterruptible torrent of chatter. 'You see, this feller who's asked me to marry him, he's nice, he's kind, he's considerate. And he loves me. I'm not in love with him but he'd make a good husband. Emotional security and all that bit. And, well,' she shot him a wry look, 'I'm forty-three for God's sake. And with two marriages on the rocks already I'm not exactly the woman-of-the-month choice. Could be that someone like Philip isn't going to come along again. But with us it was different, wasn't it? We really had something going for us, didn't we? Something special. And for four whole years. Four wonderful years I can't forget. Years I'll never forget. And all I could hope was that you hadn't forgotten them either.'