‘I had begun to understand that,’ he said. ‘But I didn’t really see behind it until now. Your shield is more skilful than mine.’
‘Nobody sees behind it unless I show them. But I can show you because of what you give me.’
‘I need you more than any man has ever needed a woman since the dawn of time,’ he said slowly.
‘You need me as nobody else ever has or ever will, and that’s the greatest gift in the world. Nobody has ever given it to me before, and I don’t want it from anyone else. You’ve made me complete. I was afraid I’d go through life without ever having that feeling.’
He laid his forehead against her.
‘And I was afraid you’d find me too demanding,’ he said.
‘You could never be demanding enough,’ she assured him. ‘The more you demand, the more you fulfil me. You’ve given me life, as though my real self had only just been born. I don’t think you really understand that yet, but you will, my love. It will take time.’
‘And we have all the time in the world,’ he said, taking her into his arms.
Now their lovemaking was different, infused with the knowledge of each other’s heart that they had just discovered. To Petra it was more like a wedding night than the real one she’d known years ago.
At some time in the dawn he murmured, ‘There’s a story of how, after Achilles’ death, he was honoured as a great lord among the other dead souls. But he longed only to be alive and said he would rather return to live on earth as a servant than stay among the dead as a lord. I never understood that story until now.’
‘You mean,’ she mused, ‘that if I were to treat you like a servant, that would be fine as long as you were with me?’
He considered. ‘Can I think about that some more?’
He felt her shaking against him and joined in her laughter. She watched him with delight and saw an answering delight in his eyes. He touched her face and spoke softly.
‘Love me,’ he said in a voice that almost pleaded. ‘Love me.’
She knew a surge of joy and reached out to caress him, draw him back into her arms and show him that he belonged there. They made love slowly, yet with a subtle intensity that said more than a million words.
It was much later that it occurred to her that he’d said not,
Next day he swept her out into the car and drove down to the shore.
‘But not the same as last time,’ he said. ‘This is a fishing village-at least it was when this island still had a thriving fishing industry. Now they cater for tourists who are interested in fishing. It’s time you met my friends.’
His friends turned out to be a family of one-time fishermen, who greeted Lysandros like a long-lost brother and drew Petra into the warmth.
There seemed to be dozens of them. She lost track of the husbands, wives, sons, daughters, cousins, nieces and nephews. She only knew that they all smiled and treated Lysandros as one of the family.
‘My mother brought me here for a holiday when I was a kid,’ he explained. ‘I ran off to go exploring, got lost and the family rescued me. We’ve been the best of friends ever since.’
She guessed that they’d been well rewarded. The fishing boat on which they now ran tourist expeditions was top of the range. But it was hard to be cynical about these people and when Kyros, the patriarch, said that the nicest thing about Lysandros was not his generosity but the days when he could find time to visit she felt inclined to believe it.
He seemed to size her up, finally deciding that he could trust her with further confidences.
‘One day, years ago,’ he told her, ‘we found him wandering alone on the beach. We hadn’t known that he was coming here. He hadn’t let us know, or come to the house. Later he said he’d meant to visit us but he arrived in the early morning when the beach was deserted and he thought he’d take a walk. He walked there for hours. A friend saw him and told us. I went down there and walked with him for a while, but he wouldn’t come home with me.
‘Then my sons took over and they walked with him all night, up and down, up and down, the length of the beach. He was like a machine, talking only in grunts. At last he began to slow down and we managed to persuade him to come with us. We put him to bed and he slept for two days.’
‘Did he ever tell you what made him like that?’ Petra asked.
‘I don’t think he knew a lot about it. He just seemed to have been lost in another world, one he couldn’t remember or didn’t want to remember. We didn’t press him. He was our friend, in trouble, and that’s all we needed to know. We did suggest that he should see a doctor, but he said we had been his doctors and he wanted no other. I’ve never seen him like that again so perhaps we were able to make him a little better. I hope so, anyway. He’s such a nice guy.’
It was obvious that he knew nothing of the reality of Lysandros’s life. The well-known name Demetriou told him that this was a businessman, rich enough to buy them the boat, but they had no conception of the full extent of his fortune and power.
And that was why they mattered to him so much, Petra realised. They were the close-knit, loving, knockabout family he’d never had and would have loved to have. To them he was ‘a nice guy’, a little removed by his money, but not enough to stop him being one of them.
Unlike virtually everyone else, they neither feared him nor showed exaggerated respect, which was a relief to him. Instead, they ribbed him mercilessly, yelled cheerful insults, challenged him to races along the sand and rioted when they beat him.
The girls cast soulful eyes at his handsome face and powerful, elegant movements, but their husbands and boyfriends pulled them firmly aside, glaring possessively, daring Lysandros to try to take advantage, forgiving when he didn’t.
How different from the Athens husbands who would pimp their wives into his bed in exchange for a contract. No wonder Lysandros loved coming here. It was his only contact with normal life, and the sight of him relishing it was as much a revelation as anything she’d learned in the last few days. He even helped Kyros’s wife, Eudora, with the cooking.
Later Eudora whispered in her ear, ‘You’re the only woman he’s ever brought here. That’s why everyone’s looking at you. Don’t tell him I told you.’
She gave a satisfied nod, as though she personally had brought about the miracle, and scurried away.
Afterwards they went out in the boat. Dressed in a swimsuit, Petra sat in the prow, wondering if life could get any better than this.
She drew a deep contented breath, looking up at the sky, then around her at the sea and the horizon. There, a little distance away in the boat, were Lysandros and Kyros chatting casually, laughing in the easy way of friends.
Then she blinked, uncertain whether she’d seen what she thought she’d seen.
Was she going mad, or had Kyros cocked his head significantly in her direction, mouthing the words, ‘Is she-the one?’
And had Lysandros nodded?
But when she looked again they were both regarding her with interest. To save her blushes she dived overboard and Lysandros joined her.
‘Careful, it’s deep out here,’ he said, holding out his hands to steady her.
She took them and he trod water, drawing her closer, closer against his bare chest, until he could slip his arms right around her, kissing her while treading water madly. Behind them they could hear cheers and yells from the boat.
When they climbed back on board Kyros hinted slyly that there was a cabin below if they wished. More cheers and yells while his wife told him to behave himself and he silenced her with a kiss. It was that sort of day.
Returning home, they ate their fill before going out into the village square where there was dancing. Lysandros could dance as well as any of them. The girls knew it and queued up for their turn. Petra was untroubled. She had all the male attention she could possibly want, and she was enjoying the sight of him unselfconscious and actually
