The Venetian House, page 31
‘No. I wanted to talk to you first – to ask if you would prepare the way with Hugh. He may not want to be in touch after all these years.’ She gave him a quizzical look: ‘We can’t recapture our lost youth – and you will be relieved to know that I have no false illusions,’ she said drily. ‘But it would be healing to be reconciled – a sort of tidying-up in preparation for dying. There are things I would like to take with me on the final journey – and the knowledge of Hugh’s forgiveness is one of them. I was the guilty party in this break-up. I know that.’
She reached out and picked up the silver box from beside her chair, running her thumb round it, feeling the bees and swallows that flew round the edge. ‘I’ve been wondering what to do,’ she said, ‘and I suddenly thought I’d like Victoria to take this to Hugh in person. I don’t mean as a gift – I want it back – but I’d like him to see it as proof that I’ve kept it all these years and from what you say, it seems he has kept mine. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. I could trust Victoria to tell him things I’d like him to know. Writing long letters is an effort for me now, I’m not good at intimate conversations on the telephone – especially after all these years – and I’m not well enough to travel at the moment. Perhaps I never will be. I have to face that.’
‘And the other thing? You said there were two?’
‘Well, that’s partly an extension of the first but to do with Victoria herself. I’m well aware that though this is the right place for her to be at the moment, she may not want to stay here indefinitely – much as I would love that. It’s too soon after the tragedy for her to make major decisions yet, but sometime she will have to think whether to make a new life for herself here or in England. I’ve been struck by how good it’s been for her to get out with you and your family and have her mind taken off her troubles. She has to go to England soon to see her lawyer and discuss family matters with her father-in-law, but when she does go I think it would be so nice for her to see you and Sam and Sophie again. She has obviously enjoyed your company so much – and of course,’ added Evanthi as an afterthought, ‘it would be nice for her to meet the rest of your family too.’ Privately she thought it was a great pity that Patrick had a wife at all. ‘I know you and Hugh both live in Yorkshire so if he agrees to see her would you have her to stay?’ She gave Patrick one of the smiles that made her likeness to her granddaughter so marked.
‘Yes, of course,’ said Patrick. ‘I’d be only too pleased and it would be nice for my wife to meet Victoria too.’
But even as he spoke, he was uncomfortably conscious that only one of these statements was true. He knew he would indeed be delighted to see Victoria again – but he couldn’t imagine her visit would go down particularly well with Rachel.
‘Has Victoria talked to you at all about Richard?’ asked Evanthi.
‘Not directly – no.’ Patrick thought that if she had, he certainly wouldn’t be prepared to discuss what had been said with her grandmother. He wondered what was at the back of Evanthi’s request. Was it really only to do with Hugh and herself – or had she other motives? The suspicion crossed his mind that she might be trying to encourage a relationship between himself and Victoria – though surely she would not approve of adultery, given that she was obviously aware that he was married.
‘You think I’m an interfering old woman, don’t you?’ asked Evanthi, unnervingly perceptive.
‘Well,’ said Patrick, smiling at her, ‘I expect you could be sometimes. Don’t we all long to help with the lives of beloved children and grandchildren? I know I often do! And I can see you love Victoria very much. But I’ll certainly talk to Hugh for you. I’d be very pleased to do that.’
‘I get the feeling you don’t want to discuss Victoria with me.’
‘No,’ he said, giving her an amused look. ‘I don’t think I do.’
I will not be beguiled into letting this fascinating old woman manipulate me, thought Patrick.
‘I’ll send you the proofs of some photographs and the text for the chapter on Vrahos as soon as I can,’ he said. ‘Victoria suggested that I ought to talk to your grandson about the house and the family. How would you feel about that?’
‘Well, Guy is certainly extremely knowledgeable.’ Evanthi was at her most urbane. But she doesn’t want me to meet him, he thought, and wondered why not. It clearly wasn’t because he was out of favour; he knew from Victoria how much her grandmother adored Guy.
‘How would you feel about a photograph of the icon in the book?’ he asked. ‘It was so kind of you to let Victoria show it to me. I see why you call it “the jewel in the Vrahos crown”. It’s remarkable. Am I right in thinking it’s very much in the Venetain style of icon painting?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ she said. ‘So suitable for this house, don’t you think? I would like you to photograph it. It has been in my family for four hundred years and there’s a legend that if it leaves Vrahos, then the family will have to leave too.’
Patrick was immediately intrigued. ‘Would you object to that being mentioned in the book? Those family stories bring a place to life. People love reading about legends.’
‘I would have to think about that,’ she said.
‘You mentioned that you might have to sell it to save the house?’
Evanthi gazed towards the window but her eyes looked blank and Patrick guessed she was viewing some inner landscape that he could not see. ‘Yes,’ she said after a pause. ‘That is the advice that I am constantly given. The trouble is that there’s no other single item of comparable value. Guy would say what is the point of keeping the icon when the house may have to be sold, but I say what is the point of parting with the icon to save the house if by the very act of doing so the family will leave anyway.’
‘You believe the legend then?’
‘I don’t disbelieve it,’ she said enigmatically.
‘What is the story behind the legend?’
She smiled. ‘A romantic one, naturally, but I don’t vouch for its accuracy! The eldest son of one of my ancestors is supposed to have fallen in love with the daughter of a rival family – a Romeo and Juliet situation. The two fathers were great, great enemies and, believe me, Greek family feuds are serious, so the young couple ran away and made a clandestine marriage. The daughter’s parents disowned her and gave her no marriage settlement – a matter of shame for the young husband’s family – but she managed to bring with her an icon for which she felt a great reverence. When her father discovered it was missing he demanded it back because he said his daughter had stolen it. But my ancestors refused to return it, claiming they were keeping it in lieu of the dowry they should have received. The girl subsequently gave birth to a son but died in childbirth, and in his rage and anguish her father put a curse on her husband’s family: no male heir born within the walls of Vrahos would inherit so long as the icon remained as their property, but that if the icon left the house then the family would have to leave too. I believe that’s called a “catch twenty-two” situation. It is certainly true that no male heir actually born at Vrahos has ever inherited. Generations of my family have gone to great lengths to avoid their sons being born in this house – including me – but fate has often intervened as it did with my son Constantine, Victoria’s father, who was born here during the war.’ She added drily: ‘I was under house arrest at the time, and helping me avoid an old family curse wasn’t a top priority with the Germans. As you may know, my son was killed in a plane crash thereby adding another name to the list of those supposedly affected by the curse. So you see I have no reason to doubt that the second part of the prophecy might be true too.’
‘Yes,’ said Patrick. ‘I can see why you wouldn’t choose to part with the icon.’
He wondered if Evanthi and Hugh had identified with the luckless couple of four hundred years earlier, and if this had added an extra edge of excitement to their own love affair.
‘My grandson, Guy, thinks it’s all complete nonsense,’ said Evanthi, ‘but quite apart from the legend, selling the icon will be a last resort as far as I am concerned because it is my most treasured possession – and I do not mean in the commercial sense, though I believe it may be quite valuable. My son-in-law, Anthony, certainly thinks so. But I may have to consider selling it for Victoria’s sake.’
While they had been talking Patrick had got his camera out of its case and was unobtrusively checking the light meter.
‘Will you go on telling me about the history of the house and family while I take a few photographs?’ he asked, thinking this would be the perfect moment to get a picture of Evanthi.
When Victoria came in for lunch she found the photographic session just finishing, but Patrick and Evanthi still deep in conversation. Evanthi was telling him all sorts of stories about family history that Victoria had never heard before. She thought her grandmother had a new sparkle in her eye and looked better than she’d seen her look for a long time. Perhaps the discovery of her lost love really will give her a new lease of life, thought Victoria. She had been afraid Patrick might have gone before she got back, and was absurdly pleased to find him still there.
She shared the news that Jake was to be allowed to go to school with Angelo for the summer term. Victoria had thought the headmaster delightful. He spoke a little English himself but did not propose to speak anything but Greek to Jake; there were already two other foreign children in the school – one Italian, one German – who had blended in very easily, he said, and after all Jake already had some understanding of the language – a huge advantage. He did not foresee any problems. Victoria was mightily relieved and felt it would bring some routine and normality into Jake’s life. While she was talking Patrick took a picture of her standing against the fireplace below the portrait of her grandparents and her father. ‘Just finishing the film,’ he said, smiling at her as she started to protest. ‘If it comes out well I shall send you a copy,’ but he knew that he was primarily taking it for himself.
After lunch they had coffee on the terrace and then Evanthi said she must go and have her rest.
‘I shall be in touch as soon as I’ve seen Hugh,’ said Patrick, getting to his feet too. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to telling him I’ve found you – and that you are still beautiful.’
‘Thank you. I shall be looking forward to your call,’ she said. ‘Give him … give him my love. I can’t imagine him as an old man.’ She allowed Patrick to kiss her goodbye, and gently patted his arm. ‘It has been wonderful to get to know you. There are certain differences, but in many ways you remind me of your uncle. I hope you all have a very good journey tomorrow. Say goodbye to Sam and Sophie for me and please don’t feel you need to hurry away now just because I have to leave you. I am sure there are things you might still like to see here that Victoria could show you.’
But despite this suggestion, after Evanthi had made a stately exit, Patrick said he had work to do and resisted the temptation to stay and talk to Victoria – a temptation made all the more difficult because he couldn’t help noticing her spontaneous look of disappointment when he said he must go. Both were aware of a strong current of attraction between them.
‘Will you come and stay with us when you come over to England?’ he asked as she walked downstairs with him. ‘Your grandmother tells me she’d like you to meet my uncle. I think she hopes you could be a sort of envoy for her.’
‘Oh, does she indeed?’ Victoria laughed. ‘Let’s see how your uncle reacts first! I’d love to meet him but I’m not sure I fancy the role of go-between! I’d also love to come and see you all again too but I wouldn’t want to impose on you and your wife.’
‘You wouldn’t do that. I’ll be in touch and let you know how everything goes,’ said Patrick. ‘Thank you for making my visit to Vrahos so special.’ He took her hand in his for moment and then gave her a swift goodbye kiss. ‘See you again soon, then, Victoria,’ he said.
‘See you soon,’ she replied.
When he looked in his driving mirror as he bumped down the pot-holey drive he could see her still standing in the archway outside the courtyard of the crumbling old house. He put his arm out of the window and waved, and saw her wave back.
She hated seeing Patrick go, while at the same time telling herself she had no right to such a feeling. She watched till the car was out of sight, and felt a terrible gloom settle over her.
Jake and Angelo were playing with the kittens and though she would have welcomed the distraction of Jake’s bright company it seemed a shame to interrupt their game. She walked slowly to the viewpoint by herself and felt her aloneness close round her like an ice-cube.
Where are you now? Why did you do it? How could you leave us? she asked Richard for the umpteenth time. But as usual there was no response.
Chapter Twenty-eight
A journey provides time for reflection, and flying some thirty thousand feet above ground level, suspended in the sky between Greece and England, between Vrahos and Kirkby Knighton – between Victoria and Rachel – Patrick did some serious thinking.
He was well aware that his marriage was in serious trouble – had actually been in trouble for longer than he cared to admit. It had been easy to blame the arrival of Posy as the catalyst for the deterioration in their relationship – and certainly that had played a part – but Patrick knew it was not the whole truth. He blamed himself for not being more assertive from the start, but the threat of nervous collapse can be a powerful tool for manipulation, and it was one Rachel had never hesitated to use. I should never have let it get to this stage, thought Patrick. When did I cross the divide between cherishing the ravishingly pretty, hypersensitive girl with whom I fell so deeply in love and over-protecting the demanding and neurotic woman she seems to have become? When did it become a habit to shield her from anything she perceived to be threatening, not because she really needed it but because it made life more peaceful for everyone else, including me? When, he asked himself, did I start to be so irritated by Rachel – to fall out of love with her? It was not a comfortable question.
Then there had been the arrival of Bronwen, who had wormed her way into their lives to such an alarming degree that Rachel now seemed incapable of making any move without reference to her. ‘Bronwen thinks’ and ‘Bronwen says’ had become words that set his teeth on edge. It had come home forcibly to Patrick over the last week just how much his two older children – Sophie in particular – distrusted and resented Bronwen. And, of course, there was Posy – a pocket version of her mother to look at, though no one could describe her as nervous. It’s time I took much more part in her upbringing, whatever Rachel wants, decided Patrick. I love her too much to let her become a monster child whom everyone dislikes – and he made up his mind that he must force some sort of a confrontation on his wife.
But before he could do this he knew he had to examine something else – his feelings for Victoria Cunningham, because he was aware that for the first time he was now also in the throes of a really serious temptation. If I’m to start issuing ultimatums to Rachel in an effort to save our marriage, he thought, I owe it to her to try to banish Victoria from my mind – but he thought this might be impossible, and a part of him did not even want to try.
He wondered if he was leaving Corfu in the nick of time before his emotions got out of hand, while he could still recognise the possibility that his feelings might be a compound of sympathy for a tragic young widow and the attraction of a temporarily unattached male to a younger and outstandingly attractive woman. And yet, and yet … Try as he would to drive her out, Victoria kept appearing in his mind’s eye: her expressive face and wonderful smile; the depth of pain in her eyes when she had lit the candle in the chapel; the way her nose wrinkled just before she broke into laughter. Laughter, thought Patrick. That’s one of the things that’s lacking in our marriage – we don’t laugh together. Rachel had always had a quick tongue and in their early days he’d been proud of, and amused by, her quick wits and sharpness, so it came as a shock to admit to himself that Rachel really had very little sense of humour – certainly no sense of the ridiculous – and was completely unable to laugh at herself. It was a deadly realisation. He wished he hadn’t thought of it.
He didn’t see much of Sam and Sophie on the flight home. As soon as they clapped eyes on the Burnaby family at the airport they gravitated towards them like pins activated by a magnet. Patrick made polite conversation to Johnny and Petra Burnaby as they waited to board the small plane for Athens, but once they got to Olympia airport he declined their invitation to join them at the bar. He found Petra’s gushing declaration that she was absolutely wild about all his books – a positive fan – and had been dying to meet him for ages, combined with her frank appraisal of his person too much to take so early in the morning, while her husband’s back-slapping suggestion that it was never too early for a drink when travelling, sent him running for cover. He looked with deep distrust at Johnny Burnaby’s white socks, disliked being addressed as ‘old man’ by a perfect stranger, was disinclined to cooperate in the social game of ‘do-you-know-the so-and-sos’ and felt himself growing more and more curmudgeonly with every breath.
Sophie, terrified equally about what her father might think of Matthew or Matthew might think of him, was agonisingly conscious of divided loyalties; having adored and admired her father for most of her life it was disconcerting suddenly to feel anxiously critical and protectively defensive of him all at the same time.
At Heathrow Patrick felt ashamed of himself for being so stand-offish and went over to make amends to his children’s friends while they all waited at the carousel for their luggage to appear. He even heard himself saying, ‘Next time you come and visit the Marshalls you must get them to bring you over to us,’ an invitation he thought he would almost certainly regret. Disconcerting how often one’s friends’ friends turned out to be uncongenial, he thought, but was rewarded by a grateful smile from Sophie that was compensation enough. He realised with a pang how quickly his daughter was growing up. She’s in love too, he thought with surprise, and wondered if the magic of Vrahos had cast a spell on them all.
