It was as though her words had touched a spring within him, releasing something that brought him peace. He laid his head down on her again, and in a moment he was asleep.
Petra didn’t sleep at once. Instead, she lay savouring her joy and triumph, kissing him tenderly, silently promising him everything. Only gradually did she slip away into the happy darkness.
They spent most of the next day in bed, not making love, but cuddling, talking, then cuddling some more in a way that would have been impossible only a short time ago. His body, so perfectly formed and skilled for giving her sexual pleasure, was mysteriously also formed for things cosy, domestic and comforting. It was a mystery, and one she would enjoy solving later.
‘I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost you,’ he murmured as they lay curled against each other. ‘It felt like being in prison, except that somehow you had the key, and you could help me break out.’
‘You kept coming to the edge of escape,’ she remembered, ‘but then you’d back off again and slam the door.’
‘I lost my nerve,’ he said with self-contempt. ‘I wasn’t sure if I could manage, so I’d retreat and lock the doors again. But I couldn’t stay in there, knowing you were outside, calling to me that the world was a wonderful place. You saved me the first time; I knew you could save me again.’
‘How did I save you?’
His only reply was a long silence, and she felt her heart sink. So often they’d come to the point where he might confide in her, but always his demons had driven him back. This time she’d hoped it might be different, that their loving had given him confidence in her. But it seemed not. Perhaps, after all, nothing had changed.
She’d almost given up hope when Lysandros said in a low voice, ‘I never told you why I was in Las Vegas. The fact is I’d quarrelled with my family. Suddenly it seemed hateful to me that we were always at war about so much. I wanted no more of it. I left home and went out to “live my own life”, as I put it. But I got into bad ways. The night we met I’d been like that for two years, and I was headed for disaster if something didn’t happen to save me. But something did. I met you.’
‘And quarrelled with me,’ she said with just a hint of teasing.
‘We didn’t quarrel,’ he said quickly. ‘Hell, yes, I suppose we came to the edge of it because I wasn’t used to being told a truth I didn’t want to hear-that dig about Achilles sulking in his tent.’
‘But it wasn’t a dig. I was just running over the legend in my usual thoughtless way.’
‘I know. You may even have done me a favour.’
Another silence while he fought his inner battle.
‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘Don’t tell me anything you don’t want to.’
‘But I do want to,’ he said slowly. ‘If you only knew how much.’
She touched his hand again, and felt him squeeze her fingers gratefully.
‘That remark got to me,’ he said at last. ‘I was twenty-three and…I guess, not very mature. I’d left my father to cope alone. You showed me the truth about myself. I did a lot of thinking, and next day I came home and told my father I was ready to take my place in the business. We became a partnership and when he died ten years ago I was able to take over. Thanks to you.’
‘Should I be proud of my creation?’
‘Do
‘Not entirely. You’re not a happy man.’
He shrugged. ‘Happiness isn’t part of the bargain.’
‘I wonder who you struck that bargain with,’ she mused. ‘Perhaps it was the Furies.’
‘No, the Furies are my advance troops that I send into battle. This isn’t about my feelings. I do my job. I keep people in work.’
‘And so you benefit them. But what about you, yourself, the man?’
His eyes darkened and he seemed to stare into space. ‘Sometimes,’ he said at last, ‘I’ve felt he hardly exists.’
She nodded.
‘Perhaps it’s better if I don’t,’ he said heavily.
‘Better for whom? Not you. How can you live in the world and not be part of it?’
He grimaced. ‘That’s easier than you think. And safer.’
‘Safer? You? The man who’s supposed to be immortal?’
‘Except for that one tiny place on the heel? Shame on you, Achilles. Do you want me to think you’re afraid to take the risks that we less glorious mortals take every day?’
He drew a sharp breath and grasped her. ‘Oh, you’re good,’ he said. ‘You’re clever, cunning, sharp; you know how to pierce a man’s heart-’
‘You have no heart,’ she challenged him. ‘At least, not one you care to listen to.’
‘And if I listened to it, what do you think it would say to me-about you?’
‘I can’t tell you that. Only you can know.’
‘It will speak in answer to your heart,’ he riposted cunningly. ‘If I knew what that was saying-’
‘Can’t you read it?’ she whispered.
‘Some of it. It laughs at me, almost like an enemy, and yet-’
‘Friends laugh too. My heart is your friend, but perhaps an annoying friend. You’ll have to be prepared for that.’
‘I am, I promise you. Petra-Petra-say you want me.’
‘If you haven’t worked that out for yourself by now-’
His hands seemed to touch her everywhere at once.
‘I hope that means what I think it means,’ he growled. ‘Because it’s too late now.’
She put her arms around his neck. ‘Whatever took you so long?’
When she awoke it was early morning and she was alone. Beside her the bed was empty, but the rumpled sheet and pillow showed where he had been. Touching the place, she found that it was still warm.
She sat up listening, but there was only silence. Slipping out of bed, she went to the door, but when she opened it she saw that there was no light on in the bathroom, and some instinct told her that he was in trouble.
She thought she could hear a faint sound from the far end of the corridor. Moving quietly, she followed it to the end, where it turned into another corridor. There she heard the sound again, and this time it sounded like soft footsteps, back and forth. She followed it to the end and waited a moment, her heart beating, before turning the corner.
A short flight of stairs rose before her. At the top stood Lysandros, by the window, looking out onto the world below. He turned, walked back and forth like a man seeing his way in unfamiliar territory, finally coming to a halt in front of a door.
She waited for him to enter the room. Perhaps she could follow him quietly, and so gain a clue to his trouble. But instead he remained motionless for what seemed like an age. Then he leaned against the door, his shoulders sagging in an attitude that suggested he was on the point of collapse. She was about to go to him, offering comfort, when he straightened up and turned around in her direction.
Hurriedly she retreated, and vanished before he could see her. She managed to reach the bedroom without being discovered and was huddled down with her back to him when he came in. She sensed him get in beside her and lean over her, apparently trying to check if she was asleep. She decided to chance it and opened her eyes.
‘Hello,’ she said, opening her arms to him.
Now, surely, he would come into them and tell her what had happened, because now they were close in hearts and minds and he didn’t need to hide things from her.
But, instead, he drew back.
‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you,’ he said. ‘I was just thinking of getting up.’
‘You’re going to get up now?’ she asked slowly.
‘Yes, I get stiff lying here all night, but you stay. I’ll bring you some coffee later.’
