Dark inheritance (8 page)

"When you've finished your coffee we can go and see it at close quarters."

Eagerly she drained her cup and looked around for their taxi-driver. "He's not here," she said in surprise.

"I thought we'd walk," Rockwood said with a half-smile.

"All the way?"

"At least to the foot of the hill. It isn't as far as it looks, you know. It's the height that makes it seem further away than it really is." He took her arm and
they set off. "I'm not making you walk merely to inflict
exercise on you—although it won't do cither of us any
harm after being cooped up on board ship for so long —but when you've been through the teeming bustle of the city you'll appreciate the quiet solitude of the temples all the more."

Barbara digested this in silence. "I'm afraid you'll find me awfully ignorant."

"How can you be expected to know all about it if
you've never been here before? I remember on my first
visit I could hardly believe that such an historic place was so accessible to the people of Athens, but it is— by foot, in less than half an hour any Athenian can reach his Acropolis."

As he talked they left the square behind them walking
until they reached more shabby suburbs that straggled to the foot of the hill rising ahead of them. Here Rock-
wood hailed another taxi and they drove the rest of the
steep ascent, coming to a halt by a turnstile at the side of the road. The entrance was swarming with vendors
of shiny picture postcards of the Acropolis and its tem
ples, who thrust their wares into their faces as they went
through the turnstile.

"By the way," she asked suddenly, 'What does the word 'Acropolis' stand for?"

"Polis
means town and
akros
upper—hence, upper town. When we get to the top you'll see the two hills which rise from the centre of the city. The one over there is Lykabettos. The other, on which we arc now standing, is the Acropolis proper."

"Sometimes I wish I'd been born before my time, Barbara murmured. "To have seen this as it once was." They picked their way across the rough, stone-strewn ground to where the enormous bulk of the
Parthenon reared itself against the sky. Constructed of
milk-white marble, it shone with such punty that their
eyes were dazzled by its reflection in the sunlight. The
vein of iron running through the marble made it seem
to be delicately patina'd with gold and it looked a fitting
shrine for the Statue of the patron goddess of Athens, Pallas Athene, which it had been built to house.

"Even their enemies realized that this legacy of the
Athenians to mankind must never be entirely de
stroyed," the man at her side murmured. "When Alex
ander conquered Greece he placed his trophies here; when Demetrius and Cleopatra aspired to divine rank they could only claim to receive it in the Parthenon. It was left to an Italian Admiral in the 17
^th
century to fire upon it because the Turks used it to store gunpowder. He paused for a moment. "It seems that everything of beauty made by man is doomed to be destroyed by him."

"Somehow I think it's more beautiful now than it can
ever have been," Barbara said softly. "I could go on
looking at it for ever."

They stood side by side in silence for a long time
breathing in the tranquility of the atmosphere, then
reluctantly turned away and went down the steps again
where they were met by a barrage of photographers who
offered to take their picture. In spite of then refusals the cameras clicked and as they walked along the
rough ground on their way back to the temple of Nike,
curling prints still damp from the developing solution were thrust into their hands.

Rockwood threw Barbara a comical glance and after
some terse haggling bought a couple of the prints and handed them to her.

"They're not very good, but I'm sure you'll cherish them for ever," he said drily. "Show them to your friends in suburbia when you're feeling depressed."

The wide curve of Barbara's mouth lifted in a smile. "I shall look at them on the tube in the rush-hour."

She glanced down at the photographs. In her wide-brimmed straw hat and sun-glasses she was almost
unrecognizable, but Rockwood had come out very
well. Standing on the steps of the temple with the
hills showing through the Doric columns behind him, he
seemed at one with the majesty of his surroundings, as
though he had kin with the Greeks who had conceived
the magnificence of the Parthenon.

'This reminds mc of you at Crags' Height," she said.

The man threw down his cigarette and trod it out
savagely. "Why must you mention Crags' Heights here?"

There was such bitterness in his voice that Barbara
could scarcely credit the change from his light-hearted-ness of a few seconds ago, and he must have seen the stricken look in her eyes, for he touched her lightly on the shoulder in apology and turned away with a brief: "Come along, we must get back."

By the time they were seated in a taxi he appeared to have regained his equilibrium, and throughout the
rest of the day remained cheerful and informative. They
lunched at one of the small cafes overlooking Constitution Square, where Rockwood assured her they would
obtain a far better meal than at any of the large, imposing hotels, and the
youvetsi
—lamb cooked with garlic, bay leaves and tomatoes—was as delicious as he had promised. Barbara felt so replete that she had
no room for the rather sticky-looking sweet—a confec
tion of sugar and almonds pounded to a paste with butter and semolina, called
halva
—that Rockwood
ordered for himself, and she watched him with amuse
ment while he ate it.

Half-way through he looked up and caught her glance. "What's the joke?"

She grinned. "You're ploughing your way through that so doggedly that I can't believe you're enjoying it"

"Try some yourself and you'll see how good it is."

"It looks too sweet for me, thanks. I'm surprised
you like it. I should have thought savouries would have
been more in your line."

For the second time since she had known him he
threw back his head and laughed. "What a girl you arc
for consistency! You obviously find me a bad-tempered
old bear and think my tastes should be the same. But you seem to have forgotten that bears like honey, and I'm no exception! Now what about some coffee—you can manage that, can't you?" He beckoned to the
smiling, fat proprietor and in rapid Greek ordered what
he wanted.

The easy atmosphere between them had returned and they light-heartedly set off to explore the rest of
Athens. The shabby paper kiosks, the kerb-side vendors,
the steaming peanut-stalls—all gave a special atmosphere to a city that might otherwise have been the capital of almost any other Mediterranean country,
although they had only to lift their eyes to the breath
taking beauty of the Acropolis to know that no other place in the world could rival Athens' inheritance.

The sky was fading from bright blue to purple and grey before they boarded the boat again, and Rock
wood insisted on her going to the bar with him for an
aperitif before they changed for dinner.

"We may as well round the day oft in style." He spoke so laconically that Barbara wondered why he always had to spoil any gesture he made by caustically explaining it away.

It was not until she sank into the scarlet leather easy-chair in the brilliantly decorated bar that she realized how tired she was. "Oh, my feet!" She wriggled one slim ankle. "We must have walked miles."

"Probably, Be thankful you didn't wear high heels —those are ideal shoes for sight-seeing." He glanced down at her feet. "Sensible, capable ones."

Barbara caught the flicker of a smile as it passed across his face and thought that he would really be quite handsome if only he would let himself go a little more and sacrifice some of his dignity. Even so, one could very easily grow to like him and it would be even easier if he were less touchy and bitter.

"If you'd care to come down from the Heights of Olympus for a moment, perhaps you'd be able to tell me what to order for you."

She blinked and smiled. "A nice sweet sherry please."

"Sweet? So you're not afraid of being thought a Philistine?"

She shook her head. "I was when I was about nineteen. I remember I was offered a Tio Pepe as though it were liquid gold and I was far too polite to say I didn't like it."

"Rather like tasting the juice of bitter almonds when one has expected nectar, eh? That's usually how it strikes a young palate."

They smiled at each other with a sudden sense of intimacy and Barbara felt a first stirring of liking for him. a liking that deepened to affection and a desire to understand him as the evening progressed.

The boat stayed at Piraeus overnight and weighed anchor at noon next day. In spite of a change in the weather Barbara took Aunt Ellie up on deck after lunch and they settled themselves comfortably in canvas chairs, for she wanted the old lady to be in a good position to watch their passage through the Corinth Canal.

Although Miss Bcrrcsford said she had missed Barbara's companionship the previous day she seemed delighted with her new-found friends and regaled her with a rambling account of all that Mrs. Holiby-Carter had said and done. "It was
so
enjoyable," she prattled; "we practically had the boat to ourselves and the waiters were as attentive as if we had been at the Ritz."

"You can't complain about the service at any time," Barbara said in amusement.

"You say that because you've never been on a really big boat, Barbara. But I remember before the war when I went to America with my sister. It was the year after Dominic's father died and we decided a sea voyage would do us good. Oh, my, you've no idea of the luxury and extravagance and gaiety. I made the best of everything and loved every minute of it. That's why I don't mind having to take it easy now, although I must say I'd have loved to have seen Athens." She sighed. "Is it as lovely as its pictures?"

"Far more beautiful."

"I think the whole of Greece must be lovely, otherwise it would never have captured dear Byron's heart as it did."

"Mr. Rockwood was very interesting about it. I don't think I'd have appreciated it nearly as much without him."

"Dear Dominic, I was sure he'd be informative. He' been almost everywhere in the world, you know. Fro the time he was about fourteen he went abroad wit his father nearly every year. I hardly remember hi spending a holiday at Crags' Height once he was in long trousers. That's when he and Mark began to grow apart. It seemed as though Hugh wanted to get his so out of the house, as if he was afraid Margaret might " She broke off and bent over her knitting.

Barbara wondered what she had been about to say, but knew that once the old woman had made up her mind not to speak, nothing would make her do so. What was this mystery surrounding Rockwood's mother and father? Was his father to blame or was it perhaps the woman of whom there was no trace at Crags'

Height—the woman who might never have existed had
not the soft and gracious atmosphere of the two main rooms borne witness to her influence?

Her mind was so full of Crags' Height and its strange owner that she was startled to find him suddenly at her Side, his back to the sun, his figure outlined against the sky, and she wondered what he would say if she mid
him her thoughts. But die sight of his powerful hand
some face with its broad forehead and sweep of dark-red hair made her feel that however friendly they became it would be impossible to penetrate the barriers
of his reserve, and she knew that if a woman loved him
it would have to be because she was willing to take him
without question, to share his future yet never know his past.

"I came up to tell you well soon be passing through
the Canal," he said. "It's a pity the weather's not warm
er, but never mind. There's still a chance the wind may
blow the clouds away."

The sky had been darkening for the last hour and now it began to look as if there might be a storm.
Hardly had he finished speaking when they heard an
ominous growl of thunder and within a few minutes
the wind was lashing the sea into a fury of grey waves.

Without warning Rockwood stooped and picked his aunt up in his arms, and they raced for cover as vivid streaks of lightning rent the sky and rain started to stream down in torrents. From the shelter of the hatchway they stood and watched the sudden storm.