LITMIR.BIZ

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you?’

      Father John smiled gently. ‘Oh, yes. I too sampled the delights of their concentration camp at Fonchi.’

      Lomax buried his face in his hands. ‘This thing’s beginning to seem like a waking nightmare. Did you know that Alexias Pavlo actually tried to kill me a little while back?’

      Pain flashed across the old man’s face. ‘So it has started already? And violence breeds violence. This was what I was afraid of.’

      Lomax got up and paced nervously across the aisle. For a moment he stood there staring into space, a slight frown on his face, and then he turned quickly.

      ‘If I’d really been guilty of this terrible thing do you think I’d have dared show my face here again, even after seventeen years? I know these islands and their people. I spent four years in the mountains with them. They believe in an eye for an eye and they’ve the longest memories in the world.’

      ‘A good point,’ Father John said, ‘but it could be argued that the situation here has taken you by surprise. That you were not aware of what took place as a consequence of your action.’

      Lomax stood looking at him feeling curiously helpless and then weariness flooded through him in a great wave.

      He slumped down, his shoulders bowed in defeat. ‘For God’s sake, what’s the use?’

      The old priest stood up. ‘Believe me, my son, I harbour no resentment against you, but I fear the evil that your presence here may produce. I think it would be better for all of us if you left on the steamer that brought you here. You still have time.’

      Lomax nodded. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’

      Father John murmured a blessing. ‘I must go now. My presence in the streets may help to prevent any expression of violence when you leave.’

      He moved away along the aisle and Lomax stayed there on the bench, his head in his hands. He was past caring, his mind numb, gripped by a force he seemed unable to cope with. All the strength was draining out of him and he leaned forward and rested his head against a pillar.

      Someone ran in through the entrance of the church and paused and then steps sounded on the stone flags of the aisle.

      It was the perfume he first became aware of, strange and somehow alien in that place, like lilac fresh after rain, and it tingled in his nostrils bringing his head up sharply.

      A young girl was standing there in the half-darkness, a scarf covering her head peasant-fashion. She was breathing heavily as if she had run a long way and she stood there staring down at him and no word was spoken.

      His mouth went dry and something that was almost fear moved inside him because this thing was not possible.

      ‘Katina!’ he said hoarsely. ‘Little Katina Pavlo.’

      She moved closer, a hand reaching out to touch his cheek and her face became that of a beautiful, mature woman in her middle thirties. In the candlelight it seemed to glow, to become alive.

      ‘The Germans told us you were dead,’ she said. ‘That the boat in which they sent you to Crete was sunk.’

      He nodded. ‘It was, but I was picked up.’

      She sat down beside him, so close that he could feel the warmth of her thigh through her linen dress. ‘I was in one of the shops buying supplies when I heard you had come in on the steamer from Athens. I couldn’t believe it. I ran all the way.’

      Her forehead was damp with perspiration and he took out his handkerchief and dried it gently. ‘It’s not good to run in this hot sun.’

      She smiled faintly. ‘Seventeen years and still you treat me like a child.’

      ‘A moment ago I thought you still were. You made the heart move inside me, but it was only a trick of the candlelight.’

      ‘Have I changed so little, then?’

      ‘Only to grow more beautiful.’

      Her nostrils flared and something glowed in the dark eyes. ‘I think you were always the most gallant man I ever knew.’

      For a moment time seemed to have no meaning, the present and the past merging into one. In some strange way it was as if they had sat here in the candlelight of the little church before, as if everything that happened was a circle turning endlessly upon itself.

      He took her hand gently and said, ‘How did you know I was here?’

      ‘Sergeant Kytros told me.’ She hesitated. ‘I heard what happened at The Little Ship. You must forgive my uncle. Sometimes I think he is no longer in his right mind. He has lived with great pain for so many years.’

      ‘And he blames it all on me?’

      She nodded gravely. ‘I’m afraid so.’

      ‘Along with everyone else around here, including Father John. Why should you be any different?’

      ‘Because I know you sacrificed yourself for these people,’ she said calmly.

      He laughed and the sound of it was harsh and ugly. ‘You try telling that one to Alexias and his pals and see how far it gets you.’

      ‘I did,’ she said. ‘A long time ago, but only one person would believe me.’

      He frowned. ‘Who was that?’

      ‘Oliver Van Horn.’

      ‘They told me in Athens that he’d stayed on here after the war. I’d hoped to visit him. Does he still live in the villa out on the point?’

      ‘I keep house for him.’

      His eyebrows arched in surprise. ‘You never married?’

      She shook her head. ‘Never.’

      ‘He must be in his sixties now,’ Lomax said slowly.

      The right-hand corner of her mouth twitched slightly and there was amusement in her eyes. ‘We have no arrangement, if that is what’s worrying you.’

      ‘None of my business,’ he said, but he smiled for the first time and she smiled back. ‘How do the locals treat him these days? After all, he’s English enough in all conscience.’

      ‘Not to the islanders. He suffered as much as anyone. He was taken with the rest of us.’

      Lomax frowned, a thought suddenly occurring to him for the first time. ‘And you, Katina? What happened to you?’

      She shrugged. ‘They took me away with the others.’

      ‘To the concentration camp at Fonchi?’

      She shook her head. ‘No, to another one, but they were all the same.’ She leaned forward and touched his face. ‘You look older. Too much older. I think you have been very unhappy.’

      He shrugged. ‘Seventeen years is a long time.’

      ‘Are you married?’

      He hesitated briefly and then plunged straight in and it was surprising how easy it was now, almost as if he was talking about some distant relative or a casual friend who wasn’t really important.

      ‘I had a wife and a little girl. They were both killed in an automobile accident in Pasadena five years ago.’

      Her sigh echoed away into the darkness. ‘I knew there was something, but I wasn’t sure. It still shows in the eyes.’ She took his hands and held them firmly. ‘Tell me now. Why have you come back to this place?’

      ‘When Father John asked me, I told him I was looking for my other self,’ he said. ‘The one who existed here in these islands so many years ago, but now I’m not so sure.’

      ‘There is a deeper reason,’ she said. ‘Am I not right?’

      ‘Who knows?’ he shrugged. ‘Van Horn once told

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