Daniel's Dream (24 page)

‘But...’

‘Daniel.’ There was a sudden severity to Kate’s tone that Daniel had not encountered before, and it took him aback. He abandoned his objections and waited anxiously for Kate to continue. He sensed some sort of explanation or perhaps even revelation in the air.

Kate waited patiently until Daniel was still before continuing. When she spoke, she did so calmly and deliberately.

‘Atheenaton, as you realise, is not like other places. It doesn’t function like anywhere else, people don’t always behave in the ways you’re used to, and things happen here that... well, that are just different. However, in some ways it’s just like home. It can be baffling, surprising and downright incomprehensible. There are not necessarily explanations that can help you. At some level, you just have to trust; to trust the experience, the evidence of your own senses. Think of it like television: you don’t have to know how it works to enjoy it...’

‘You’re fobbing me off-’

‘Not at all. There’s a sort of unwritten agreement among the visitors who come to Atheenaton; we just accept that it exists, and exploit and enjoy all that it has to offer.’

‘Exploit?’

‘Certainly. Atheenaton is a very special place, and it serves a very important purpose, but - take it from me - you shouldn’t try to question it too deeply, or you’ll probably find yourself in for a rough ride.’

‘Rough? In paradise?’ 

‘Yes, well, even the waters of paradise have undercurrents, you know.’

Daniel shook his head. He wasn’t sure he understood exactly what Kate meant by that last remark, but he knew he didn’t like the sound of it,.

‘Is that a threat?’

‘Don’t be silly.’

Daniel frowned. ‘It is, isn’t it? It’s a threat. What am I being warned off?’

Kate took another swig of wine. Her expression betrayed an impatience that Daniel had not seen before.

‘Relax Daniel. There’s nothing to threaten you here. You can always leave if you don’t like it.’

‘You know that’s not the problem,’ said Daniel, irritated. ‘Leaving is not the issue. It’s staying. I just want to...’

Kate sighed, a touch theatrically. ‘I hope you won’t take this too personally, Daniel, but that’s precisely the problem; you want too much. God knows, isn’t this place good enough without you having to analyse it?’

Daniel shook his head, gazed out to the beach and beyond, just in time to see the last remnants of the sun being swallowed up by the dark sea.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, not altogether sincerely. ‘It’s just so frustrating never knowing when I’m coming back, or how long I can stay.’

‘Yes, I know,’ said Kate. ‘But if you stop making such a big deal out of it, it’ll work out fine. You’ll see. The more often you come here, the more you’ll get to know and feel the place, and your ties to it will grow stronger. But you have to trust it, Daniel; and you have to fit. If you don’t, then you won’t be welcome.’

Daniel sensed a note of not only caution but also menace in Kate’s warning. He didn’t think he was being unreasonable, but at the same time he didn’t want to put it to the test. It was better to have Atheenaton and not to understand it than to understand it and lose it in the process. He nodded slowly to Kate, sighed gently, and sipped his retsina.

A moment later, they were joined by Marianne, who had descended the stairs that ran along the front of the taverna, her hair dripping wet, as if she had just emerged from the sea. She sat down next to Daniel, leant across and kissed him on the cheek.

‘How nice to see you again,’ she said, her voice surprisingly harsh and strident. ‘But I wish you wouldn’t keep taking off all the time. Veronique was saying only this morning that we would never get to know you unless you stayed for more than a few hours. She thinks you’re being unsociable, but I know better.’ She smiled, reached for the carafe in the centre of the rickety wooden table and poured herself a glass of wine. 

Daniel smirked; he felt pleased that the girls had talked about him in his absence, especially Veronique. 

‘And where is your sister?’ he asked as casually as possible, and noticed Kate’s conspiratorial grin, only half hidden by her wine glass.

‘She’ll be down shortly; she’s just showering,’ replied Mariarme, and then added, ‘You’re rather keen on her, aren’t you?’ so meaningfully that Daniel choked on his wine. He turned bright scarlet and spluttered nervously.

‘No, well, that is... I was just... you know... just friendly concern...’

Kate’s crude, fruity laughter embarrassed him further.

‘Well, don’t worry,’ said Marianne, throwing Kate a sly glance. ‘She’ll be here shortly.’

Marianne’s long, ink-black hair continued to drip water; several drops landed on her silk blouse to be instantly absorbed and the damp material clung to her like a second, lustrous skin. This sudden, tantalising moment caught Daniel by surprise, and despite himself he could not help gazing appreciatively at Marianne’s breasts.

Fortunately, at that moment there was a sound at the top of the stairs, and Véronique appeared in the doorway. She came quietly down the stairs and walked across to the table. As she took her place opposite Daniel, all thoughts of Marianne filtered away into the ether. 

‘So,’ she said huskily, t’he mysterious traveller returns.’

‘I was just saying,’ chipped in Marianne, ‘how you - that is, we - had missed Daniel. I don’t think he believes me though, do you?’ She eyed Daniel up and down suggestively, making him feel uncomfortable.

‘Of course I do,’ he said as nonchalantly as possible, then addressed Veronique. ‘How are you?’

‘She’ll say “fine”, Daniel, but don’t be fooled,’ said Marianne. ‘Ever since you disappeared she’s been wandering aroimd like a puppy that’s lost its mother, haven’t you, dear?’ Marianne turned towards her sister and smiled.

Veronique glared at her sister; a look, thought Daniel, that although not lethal was probably capable of causing a severe flesh wound.

‘How about some more wine then?’ said Marianne coolly. Daniel smiled uncomfortably and gave a small, nervous nod of assent; clearly Marianne was not a woman to fool around with.

It was Kostas who responded to the call for more wine. He appeared mysteriously from some dark corner of the taverna, large carafe in hand, which he set on the table with a flourish before patting Daniel firmly on the back.

‘So, you have come to see me dance?’ said Kostas, evidently delighted to see Daniel again.

‘Ah, yes,’ agreed Daniel, seizing the opportunity provided by Kostas’s arrival to deflect attention away from the two petulant sisters. ‘But when do we see you? Do you have to wait on tables all night?’

‘No, no,’ laughed Kostas. ‘This is just a... how do you say... a disguise.’ He guffawed at his own joke, which was just as well, as it helped defuse the dark, acidulated atmosphere around the table. ‘In a little while you will see me. But first, we drink a little retsina together, yes?’

Daniel poured out a glass for Kostas, and they toasted the evening. ‘
Yamas!
’ said Kostas, raising his glass to his lips. The others repeated the toast, and downed their glasses in one.

‘And again!’ said Kostas, grabbing the bottle and refilling the glasses. ‘On a night like this, we must get drunk!’

And in the absence of any alternatives, and with no one finding reason to object, it seemed a perfectly sound idea.

Daniel had no idea how many hours had passed by the time he and Véronique found themselves dancing cheek to cheek, the voice of Dmitri Mitropanos and the sound of the bouzouki transforming the taverna into a magical, musical arena. He knew they had consumed a great deal of wine, and had applauded Kostas’s demonstration of Greek dances.

Daniel had spent most of the evening talking to Veronique. At some point the group had dissolved, and the two of them had ended up sitting together in a dark corner, watching the events unfold and talking close, intimately. Oddly, although they had been left on their own, and despite the fact that several hours had passed in this manner, Daniel could not now recall the content of any of their conversations.

Had they spoken about themselves? About Atheenaton? About love? Daniel did not know. He remembered seeing Kate, later in the evening, waving to him as she and Kostas left the taverna together, and that Mariarnne had disappeared on to the beach with Vangeli from the Neraida. But how he had found himself on the patio of the Waves with Véronique in his arms he did not know.

Nor did he need to. Not-knowing, like not-questioning and not-understanding clearly had its place in Atheenaton, and for the meantime, at least, Daniel was happy to go along with this arrangement and remain unenlightened. One thing was certain; ignorance did little to distract from the general sense of warmth and well-being that he felt, as he and the younger sister moved synchronously to the beautiful melodies of ‘
Synaxaria
’ for the second time that night.

The night air was warm and still, and the stars and fireflies glistened in the blue-black darkness. Just a few metres beyond the taverna, the waves broke against the sand, liberating a platinum phosphorescence that effervesced brilliantly for a few seconds amid the silver-tipped plumes before retreating into the sea.

Daniel felt the softness of Véronique’s cheek against his own. The weight of her arms around his neck was comforting, and her body felt firm yet relaxed. He breathed in her fragrance and shivered as she ran her hands down his back until they came to rest on his hips. Even the waters of paradise have undercurrents; that was what Kate had said. But if it was true, Daniel didn’t care. He turned his face towards her and kissed her deeply. And again. And once again.

‘Paradise,’ he whispered. ‘This is paradise.’

Veronique smiled and, without another word, took Daniel by the hand and led him across the floor of the taverna and to the bedroom at the top of the stairs. She dragged him in through the open door, slammed it shut with her foot and then threw herself into his arms.

They kissed passionately for what seemed like hours, and Daniel was so involved, so engrossed in the softness of her lips, the sweet taste of her, that it was only when she pulled away and crossed the room, leaving him standing alone, that he opened his eyes and looked around.

A single, rather dim bedside light - the only illumination - cast its yellow light on to the whitewashed walls and ceiling. The room was small and spartan, dominated by a double bed which was pressed up against one wall to maximise the available space. It was not dissimilar to the room he had used in Kate’s villa, only here there were small, personal touches that suggested something proprietorial: a framed photograph of a family group on the bedside table, an Arcadian landscape in delicate watercolours hanging on the wall above the bed, a vase of flowers on the dressing table.

‘Come and lie down with me,’ said Veronique, who had pulled off the blue-and-white bedspread, kicked off her shoes and was stretching out on the clean, white sheets.

Daniel slipped off his sandals and crossed the room to the bed. Véronique was lying on her side, her back to the wall, her long, jet-black hair splayed out on the pristine pillow. Her arms and legs, deeply tanned, glowed with a bronzed radiance which contrasted dramatically with the cool white sheets. Daniel lowered himself on to the mattress and stretched out beside her. He put his hand to her face and stroked her hair gently.

‘You’re so beautiful...’

‘Shhh.’

‘No, I have to tell you. You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.’

Veronique blushed. ‘You’re embarrassing me.’

‘But you are.’

‘Well, if you think so, who am I to disagree?’ She snuggled up closer. ‘You’re not too bad yourself,’ she said, and flashed him a cheeky smile.

Daniel gazed into her eyes, felt her hands reach out to him and felt his heart beat faster at the prospect of what was to come.

‘There’s just one thing, Daniel,’ said Veronique, pulling away slightly. ‘You have to understand, there can be nothing... nothing permanent about this.’

Daniel looked at her quizzically. ‘I don’t understand. What are you trying to say?’

Veronique sighed. ‘Whatever happens, whatever we choose to do, it can’t be taken as sign or signal or... I’m not explaining this very well.’