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Authors: Roberta Latow

BOOK: Three Rivers
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She told them all about talking to Isabel in Cairo. Only after she had finished her tale, adding a few of her own interpretations to the facts, did Ava say she had spoken to Isabel as well. She said nothing else. When Kate asked questions about their conversation, she was cut short and given not one word of what the two sisters had spoken about.

Now, walking home, she wondered why Isabel had called Ava. Something was happening, or was going to happen; she felt it in her bones but did not know what it was. Isabel was going to spring something on her in the next few weeks. If only she knew where Isabel was in Cairo, then she could surprise her with a visit and find everything out. Ava either knew and was keeping it secret, or she knew nothing and did not care because it did not affect her. In either event, Ava would tell nothing.

And what was all that teasing about Constantine? Telling her she should think about him as a suitor, and how lucky she was that he paid her so much attention. Well, they had another thing coming if they thought she would end up married again. Once was enough, thank you. There was not a man alive with whom Kate would make a life now, as she told them. No more taking care of a man, picking up his cigarette ashes, listening to him
cough and taking care of him when he was sick. And, as for sleeping with him, never. Just the thought of it made her angry. No, not even with a room of her own and if he never touched her; not even if he gave her a fleet of servants, would she marry. She would rather be lonely. Anyway, she had her children.

She did not like the way Ava pushed Alfred about. He was an intelligent, quiet, self-centered man, who was nothing but the perfect gentleman to everyone. He was indeed a model husband, never rude, unkind, or crude in manner or taste. Maybe he was not as thrilling or interesting as some other men, but he gave Ava the security that she always sought, and if the truth be known, her three former husbands were all cut of the same cloth. Ava was clever — she never left one man until she had a commitment from another, and she always moved up to more money, more security, a bigger, better home, and a better life-style.

Ava’s strategy was to flirt, coax, tease, but only fuck when a proposal was ninety percent in the bag. Once the man committed himself to marrying Ava, then fuck to her heart’s content for a week, announce to the cast-off husband it’s over, and leave. Presto, a divorce and a new husband. One had to give Ava credit. She worked hard at whatever she did and got whatever she wanted.

That night Kate slept badly. She woke up constantly to scheme, making little plans on how to get to Egypt and find Isabel, or get her to come to Athens at once. But Kate was getting old, and although her head and heart were still running and scheming she no longer had the energy. Knowing this, she thought she must make sure of any plan she had, and, in fact, of what it was she really wanted.

In the early hours of the morning Kate was sitting in her little garden. She was almost catatonic, having driven herself to that state by her desperate mind games. By the time the sounds of the city were heard in the garden and the rattle of the shutters going up reached her, the sun was high.

By noon she was sure of what she wanted and what she would do. She would make a plan, but not today. Today she was going to take it easy. There was no rush now that she knew where she was going.

No more than an hour after she realized what she
wanted and what she would do, Kate was dressed and looking marvelous. She was going to move to London and live with Isabel for the rest of her life. Isabel and she would take care of one another. Kate would start the ball rolling tomorrow. But today was going to be lovely; she would hurry not to keep dear Constantine waiting. She really did enjoy being with him so much.

She left her house and walked out into one of those magic days filled with sun, warmth, and a fresh breeze coming up from the sea. Well, I can always come back for visits, Kate thought. She thought of what Ava would say about her leaving and then put it out of her mind. The last thing she wanted to do today was to think of her two children. She just hoped they would be happy and leave her in peace.

That evening Kate and Constantine were dining together at his home. Kate had accepted his dinner invitation at lunch the day before. She had not realized that there was to be just the two of them. Kate was at ease about it, now that she had her plan. There had been no word from Isabel, and Kate had started sowing the seeds of discontent with Ava. It would take time, but before long she would be living in Mayfair, London, with Isabel.

Constantine found Kate more lovely and sweet than ever, for she was leading him on, flirting a little. He found it enchanting and all through dinner was delighted with the prospect of bedding Kate Wells after the servants had left the house.

During dinner they spoke about their lives and the future. It was a natural progression that led the two elderly people to discussing their relationship. Constantine took his drink and went over to sit next to Kate. The servants had long since gone.

During the evening Kate had been very flattering about Constantine and how much he meant to her. After putting his drink down and putting out his cigarette, Constantine picked up both her hands, and stroking them tenderly, he told her how much her friendship had meant to him.

There was mutual agreement as to how lucky they were to have found each other. Constantine stroked her arm and touched her cheek, again with tenderness. It was at this point that suddenly, but not abruptly, Kate started to
get up from the sofa, saying that it was very late and she must go home.

Constantine stopped her by putting his hand on her shoulder and saying how silly of her, she must not go home. Turning her head to face him, he gave her a kiss full on the mouth as he fondled her breasts. Kate was more surprised than upset as he opened the top of her dress and buried his face in her tits, his fingers seeking her nipples. She asked him in as gentle a manner as she could muster if he did not think he was acting stupidly for a man of his age.

He raised his face away from her and told her that, no, he did not think it was stupid. If anything was stupid, it might be that he had waited so long to take her. Still touching her everywhere as they spoke, her breasts, her stomach, her hips, he then raised her skirt and slipped his hands between her legs.

Kate removed his hands, telling him how surprised and disappointed she was to see a man behave in such a low manner.

Constantine could not believe that Kate was serious. He stood up and pulled her to him, telling her he wanted to take her to the bedroom and remove all those clothes she had on. He wanted her naked so he could touch her everywhere. She pulled away, saying she was going home, and started for the front door. He went after her and pulled her to him, kissing her passionately on the mouth.

She struggled away from him and, standing back, admonished him for being so sexy for a man his age.

“Kate, are you so foolish that you will not let me give you this pleasure? What do you mean ‘I am too old’? I have a very active and happy sex life, and I want to share it with you. Surely you know how I feel about you now, and I want you to be my wife. That is what this is all about. I want us to go to bed now and be naked and explore each other. I want to do everything to you to give you pleasure, and I want you to do the same for me. Is that such a surprise to you?”

Kate was furious and saw Constantine as being loathsome, repulsive, sickening. She pulled her hand away. “Don’t touch me again, don’t come near me. I would rather die than have intercourse with you. I don’t want to have you wet all over me,” she said, her eyes filled with tears of anger. “I am happy enough to see you in the
Byzantium or any public place, but I don’t want you to get close to me and, more to the point, I would find it disgusting to be intimate with you. You are a dirty old man. Do you understand? I think this attempt of sex with me is disgusting. I don’t care if you
are
a retired Greek admiral, rich and secure. I don’t want your home or your house or you as a reward for accepting your filthy sexual needs. I don’t want you to buy me lunch anymore, and I don’t mind telling you, if you do go around fucking old women and having those animal passions, you are not the man I thought you were, and I don’t like you very much.”

Kate was in an advanced state of hysteria by this time, with tears running down her face. All she could babble on about was that she wanted to go home and where was the front door?

Constantine Dendropoulos was indeed a fine gentleman, and not a Greek admiral for nothing. He was quite capable of handling situations. He became very firm and said, “Kate, go over there. Compose yourself at once.” He told her that he would not harm her or go near her again, but she would not leave his house unless she was calm and collected. They were, after all, still friends.

And that, in essence, is what finally did happen. When she was calm, had had a drink and been under control for about twenty minutes, the old Greek admiral got up, brought her coat to her, helped her on with it and rang downstairs for his driver to bring the car round. He took her out onto his terrace for a few minutes of fresh air and asked if she was feeling well enough to go home.

He insisted on seeing her home. At her door he said, “Kate, I am sorry that you did not understand my deep affection for you and the fact that I wanted to take care of you. If you did understand it and did not want it, that is something else. I will be at the Byzantium tomorrow, as usual, and if you should decide to stop sometime and have a drink with me, you will be welcome; you must also know that I will never ask you to join me. That is the last thing I would ever do. I am sorry for your unhappiness, Kate. I hope you have some happier plans than living alone here.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled back slightly, and he saw nothing but ice in her eyes. He kissed her hand and left.

When undressed and in his bed, the admiral thought how unfortunate it was that this lovely Kate Wells had a
sexual problem so great that it destroyed something very special between them. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was 12:15. Not very late by Greek standards. He picked up the telephone and called Glyfada. That night, for the first time since he had known the lady, she was brought to his home in Kolonaki Square. She made passionate love to him, and then told him when they were lying in each other’s arms that she was a little nervous being in his home for the first time in all their years together. He kissed her and then made love to her with great tenderness. Before she left the house in the early hours of the morning, she took the active role again with the old admiral, moving him to such a peak of passion that he took her with a wildness he had not known for years.

Kate closed the door and leaned against it with the relief of being in her own home. She heard Constantine’s footsteps clicking away from her down the marble hall. When she could hear them no more she switched on the lights in the room, poured herself a glass of water, swallowed two sleeping pills, undressed and fell into bed.

Dozens of gaily colored glossy travel brochures sat on Kate’s desk. In the four days since she had received her proposal of marriage, she had calmed down and was organizing herself for her holiday in Egypt and her move to London. Her plan was quite simple. She was waiting for Isabel’s return. As soon as she knew that Isabel was there she would write and tell her of her trip to Egypt and give her the date of her arrival in London. She would arrive for a short holiday with Isabel. That is all that Kate would write.

In fact, the plan was to get the least expensive holiday for the shortest period of time in Egypt. Just long enough to have her picture taken at the Pyramids and send postcards, for she really hated the Arabs. Back to Athens to have a few days’ rest and close up the flat, and then she would pack as many of her clothes and personal belongings as she could get into two large suitcases and go to London and Isabel’s home for her visit.

Isabel would never refuse her a visit, and once there, Kate would never leave. She knew that Isabel would not throw her out, just as she knew that Isabel would never invite her. So it was very simple: Kate would make the
first move, and in time Isabel would understand they would live happily ever after. Had they not always had a good time and been happy together?

Kate went about her flat whistling a happy tune, fired by her new scheme. She started sorting out things that she would take with her, thinking about how wonderful a time she and Isabel would have in London. Kate would not push Isabel, but slowly she would make her understand that she did not need that slimy Jap houseboy to run things. He could easily be replaced by a nice English charlady. God knows how much he had taken from Isabel! Well, she would fix his wagon.

It would be made obvious that she was a great asset to have around. There would be no problem about a nice comfortable room for Kate. It would take just a little adjusting on Isabel’s part. Her bedroom was much too large for one person: All she would have to do would be to add another bed. The room, after all, was just for sleeping and the two women could be most comfortable sharing a room. The worst thing that could happen would be that Isabel would have to change that ridiculously large bed for a smaller one. As for money, well, naturally Kate would insist on paying for her own bed.

Then the little guest room could be turned into a private room for Kate so she could have a small sitting room of her own. In that way Isabel would have her privacy. Yes, all that she would do in time, but for now, she would be the perfect houseguest for as long as it took Isabel to realize that she was there forever. Kate knew her girls; with all their so-called independence they really needed their mother, and, who knows, maybe in time Kate could become Isabel’s assistant? Isabel was not a very good manager and they both knew it.

There had not been another word from Isabel since that one phone call, and that was almost a week ago. She said then that she would return to London in a week’s time. Kate thought she should wait till the end of the day before calling London, just to make sure Isabel’s flight had arrived.

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