“For Chrissake, Dad, will you get off my back?” snarled Nick.
His request was almost literal. Craig was leaning over the boy’s shoulder, watching him struggle with the intricacies of integral calculus.
Tanya stood at the patio doors. Peals of childish laughter drifted in from the pool outside. Susie and Emma were ducking each other off a lilo and Jenny was swimming sedate lengths of breaststroke. Philip had dragged his sun lounger into the shade of the vine-covered pergola and had fallen asleep with a book open upon his chest. Tanya’s eyes gazed longingly on the inviting scene, but her ears were on the conversation within.
“Don’t be so sensitive!” snapped Craig. “I’ve every right to see how you’re getting on. Someone has to keep a check on you.”
Nick scraped his chair back noisily on the ceramic tiles of the living room floor. “No they don’t. I’m not a child.”
“Yes you are. You’re seventeen years of age and that makes me legally responsible…”
“Only until my eighteenth birthday. Does that mean you’ll start treating me as an adult then?”
“I’ll start treating you as an adult when you start behaving like one. And that includes being financially self-sufficient. While I’m supporting you you’ll do as you’re told.”
Tanya cringed and bit her tongue. She must not take sides in an argument between father and son. It was not her place. But there was no doubt about it—Craig didn’t have the first idea how to communicate with teenagers.
“I see,” said Nick quietly. He took his seat once more and picked up his pen. “I’ll just have to make sure that I’m ‘financially self-sufficient’, as you put it, by next birthday.”
Craig laughed derisively. “Some chance of that!” he mocked. “Your skills and qualifications are so marketable, aren’t they? You’re so employable, don’t you think? Every personnel officer’s dream!” The sarcasm dripped from his lips.
Nick began to write. “You’ll see,” he said quietly through clenched teeth. There was a tension in his shoulders that spelt determination. “You’ll see,” he repeated.
Tanya turned from the window. “Excuse me, Craig,” she said. “Could I have a word with you? In private.”
He followed her though the patio doors. The children were splashing each other and anyone else who got in the way, Jenny was heaving herself up the steps at the side of the pool and Lydia was laying the table for lunch. It was hardly private. “Let’s go down to the beach,” he said.
Craig led her across the sun-baked surrounds of the pool to the steps that led down to the beach.
Tanya sat on a rock and kicked off her shoes. She pulled her gathered cotton skirt up over her knees and dangled her feet in the sea. The cool clear water caressed her skin like silk, and she longed to slip off her clothes and immerse herself in the crystal depths. “Please try and give Nick a break,” she said.
Craig stood a few feet off. He picked up a pebble and skimmed it over the water. “A break?” he queried. “His whole life’s been one long break. I’m trying to get him down to some work.”
“You must understand,” she explained, “that it is very difficult for him to work with someone watching over his shoulder like that. Especially when that someone is you.”
“I don’t see why,” said Craig.
“You don’t have to see why. You’re not a teacher. But the reason is that he feels uncomfortable, threatened.”
“Does he? Poor put-upon Nick!” He picked up another pebble.
Tanya ignored the remark. “And that, I assure you, interferes with the concentration. I usually avoid doing it myself, but you doing it is much worse. Your relationship with Nick…”
This time he hurled the pebble angrily at a rock. “What do you know about my relationship with Nick?” he reacted, as the pebble ricocheted off the rock, missed Tanya by six inches and arched into the sea with a resounding plop. He did not apologise.
Tanya caught her breath at the near miss, but retained her composure as she replied. “Enough to know you could well be the reason for his lack of progress last year. Enough to know he could deliberately fail this year just to make a point. Just to punish you for the way you treat him.”
Craig’s body bristled, but he managed to keep his voice cool as he looked down on her. “I employ you, Tanya, to teach. Not to make sociological criticisms of my role as a father.”
Tanya nodded. “You do indeed, Craig. So perhaps if you’d leave me to get on with doing just that, without these continual suggestions and interruptions, Nick might learn something.”
“Like he did last year,” challenged Craig.
“I’m talking about this year. I’m talking about here and now.”
“And I’m trying to impose some sort of discipline on him. The discipline you’ve as yet failed to enforce.”
Tanya took a deep breath, swung her legs sideways and stood up. “Craig,” she said through gritted teeth. “Either you treat me as a professional and allow me to teach Nick in my way, the way I know best, without this destructive interference of yours, or you send me home. It’s your choice.”
Craig hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his lightweight slacks. The fabric stretched over his lean hips. He looked down at her with threatening eyes. It was all Tanya could do not to look away, but she knew that would indicate weakness.
“You mean that, don’t you?” he said quietly. “You’d really walk out on us, wouldn’t you?”
Tanya shrugged with carefully contrived nonchalance. “That’s no big deal,” she said. “Don’t you remember? I didn’t want to walk in on you. Walking out would be child’s play. Something of a relief, you might say.”
Craig turned and crossed to the bottom of the steps. “I see,” he said with bitter sarcasm in his tone. “It is so heartening to see such dedication in the teaching profession.”
Tanya could have stamped her feet in fury. Why did he have to twist everything she said? Instead she put on her shoes. “It’s your decision.”
He turned and faced her. “As it happens, it scarcely matters. I have to get back to work. I’ve had far too much time off as it is. So from now on you can mollycoddle my son to your heart’s content. I won’t be around to stop you.”
She summoned up a suitable response. “Well,” she said, as she followed him back up to the villa, “that should make things a whole lot easier.” She meant it, but at the same time she felt strangely disappointed. She had failed to make him understand.
“Thank God for that,” said Nick, as Craig’s taxi disappeared down the track that led through the olive groves, up the hill, and on to the main road.
Jenny glared at him. “That’s no way to talk about your father,” she remarked curtly.
“Father!” he retorted. “Some father!” He turned and headed back inside. “Since when has he shown any interest in me?”
Jenny followed him, waddling three steps to his every two to keep up. “Since Tanya arrived, for a start,” she said. “What do you think he’s been doing here?”
Nick smiled and glanced sideways at Tanya. “Who knows?” he murmured under his breath. “Who knows what his motives are?”
Tanya felt herself blushing, but Jenny continued. “He came to help you, to make sure you were settling down with Tanya.”
“To check up on me, more like. To check up on her. Anyway, aren’t you the pot calling the kettle black? You know damn well you’re all as glad to see the back of him as I am!”
He was right about that. The tension between Nick and Craig had threatened the whole fabric of family life.
Nick continued, “With a bit of luck we won’t see him again before the summer’s out.”
Tanya threw off her sheet. The heat was oppressive. Not that it had bothered her before. She had slept well this past couple of weeks. Things were working out better than she could possibly have hoped. It was certainly easier with Craig out of the way. She and Nick had settled into a sensible regime of short periods of study with frequent short breaks for swimming and sunbathing by the pool and occasional longer ones to visit the beach or take the boat out. Nick was being very reasonable. Tanya frowned. Suspiciously reasonable, perhaps? There was something about his tacit acceptance of the routine that was almost too good to be true. She mustn’t allow herself to become complacent.
She listened to Susie’s even breathing from across the room. Her chest no longer wheezed, and the eczema on her arms had cleared. The sun and the salt had succeeded where those endless medications had failed. What time was it? Tanya glanced at the alarm clock beside her bed. Not yet midnight. She couldn’t have been asleep long. Why had she woken? Moonlight shone through the slatted shutters, striping the sheets in silver. The night was tranquil now. The cicadas, as usual, had ceased their chorus abruptly at sunset, and the tree frogs had performed their shrill evening recital before finally settling for the night. But for the occasional hoot of an owl and the eerie screech of its unfortunate prey, all was quiet. Or was it? Now that she thought about it, she could hear in the distance a low rhythmic thud. Tanya sat up. That was it. That was what had woken her. The chug of a motor. And it was getting closer.
She stepped out of bed and padded across the cool tiles to open the shutters. A boat approached the bay, cleaving a wide arc in the silver sea. Lights from its cabins splintered the glassy surface. Strange, arriving at this hour. The silhouette of a lone figure cast an anchor over the stern, and the motors fell silent. The glossy white hull gleamed in the moonlight. She wondered who might own a such a yacht. None of her business. All was quiet now. She would soon get back to sleep.
Tanya turned over. Again and again. It was no good. She couldn’t sleep. Perhaps a glass of water would help. She swung her legs out of bed, got up and headed for the kitchen.
She froze as she opened the kitchen door. There on the table was a brown rat. The rat froze too, as though fixed in a rectangle of moonlight. It sat on its hind legs, its eyes bright and its ears pricked up. Its nose twitched a fraction and its whiskers moved. Tanya smiled as the little creature relaxed and resumed its nibbling. That packet of biscuits should have been put away! There was something almost Beatrix Potteresque about the scene: the dainty way it nibbled its food, the delicate way its tiny forepaws held each tasty morsel. It was more like a hamster, really. Susie would have been thrilled to bits!
“We call him Basil,” said a voice at her shoulder.
Tanya started. The rat scurried down a table leg and scampered across the floor and behind the fridge. Tanya stood there open mouthed as Craig switched on the light. She blinked in the bright glare.
“They’re quite harmless,” he explained. “They come down from the hills during the dry season. To look for water, I believe. I don’t suppose they’re averse to the occasional biscuit as well.”
Tanya glared at him. “What are you doing here?”
He raised a brow. “That is a nice welcome,” he remarked wryly. “I might ask the same question. What are you doing, creeping around in the dark like this?”
“I was…just…” Tanya struggled to remember.
“Or did you get up to study the wildlife?”
“Of course not…I just…wanted a glass of water.”
Craig opened the fridge door and took out a bottle of mineral water. “Nothing stronger?” he queried as he fetched a glass down from the cupboard.
“Now my question: what are you doing here?” she repeated.
He filled the glass. “Just thought I’d see how things were getting along. I mis-timed my arrival, but I wanted to make sure you’re keeping Nick’s nose to the grindstone.” He handed her the glass, pulled a stool back from the table and sat down. He eased his cotton slacks at the knees. They were rolled up, but were wet to his thighs.
“Things are getting on just fine,” she exploded. “Since you left, that is. Nick’s studying with great conscientiousness, the girls are getting on like a house on fire, and I’ve actually come to terms with the fact that you lured me out here like…”
“Lured you out here!” he echoed, grinning broadly. “I wouldn’t have put it quite like that. “I wonder…” he said, leaving his stool and kneeling down by the fridge, “…if I can lure Basil out.”
He opened the fridge door and took out a piece of cheese. “Come on, Basil. Surprise for you.” He tapped the side of the fridge.
The rat shot out from behind the fridge and scuttled along the skirting board, across the hall, and into the darkness.
“Pity. I can’t think why he won’t make friends with me.”
“Neither can I,” said Tanya bitterly. “You have so much in common.” She drained her glass and put it down.
Craig spun round. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing much,” she defended, stepping back.
He leant threateningly towards her and grabbed her arm.
Tanya’s heart pounded. His nearness was oppressive.
“Tell me what you meant.”
“It’s…it’s just that you both have such a sneaky, underhand way of getting what you want.”
“I see.” He bit his lower lip. For an instant he looked faintly vulnerable. “What makes you think I’ve got what I want?”
Tanya shrugged her shoulders. “Nick’s studying, isn’t he? I’m here, aren’t I?”
He extended a hand and traced her cheek. “And you wish you weren’t?” he asked softly. A wave of weakness suffused her. She must fight it.
“That’s not the point,” she replied curtly. She drew herself up to her full five foot two, jutted her chin forward and turned.
Her attempt at a dignified exit disintegrated as his hand tightened on her upper arm. “Let me go,” she reacted, as she found herself drawn closer to him.
“It’s more than point of principle, isn’t it?” he said.
“What is?”
“Keeping away from me. Why should it matter that much?” he asked. He looked down into her face. His eyes were dangerous dark pools. You could drown in those depths.
She tried to look away, but she was compelled by his gaze.
“It doesn’t, but…”
“But you don’t want a relationship with a pupil’s parent. It’s an obsession with you, isn’t it?”
His hand slid up to her shoulder and caressed the smooth skin at her neck. Eddies of sensation slithered the length of her spine. “He won’t be your pupil forever, you know.” His voice was silkily seductive and her heart was pounding wild signals as he drew her inexorably closer. “I can wait,” he murmured. “But I’d prefer not to have to.”
Her hands were against the broad strength of his chest. She could smell the masculine scent of him mingled with the musky aroma of his aftershave and the saltiness of the sea. Involuntarily she breathed deeply of the heady cocktail. His own breath was soft and warm and fanned her face.
“No, Craig!” She must get a grip on herself.
“I didn’t come to check up on Nick,” he confessed. “I came to see you. I think of you constantly. I can’t get you off my mind. Please. Tanya…”
She was aware of the thin fabric of her nightdress. The heat of his arms seemed to burn right through, sending prickling sensations across the surface of her skin.
“Let me go!” she said helplessly. She knew she didn’t mean it.
“Not yet,” he said softly. His lips brushed the top of her head. “Your hair’s like…”
He chuckled as what had clearly been intended to be a pretty compliment died on his lips. “It tastes salty,” he remarked, his mouth curling into an amused smile.
Tanya lifted an embarrassed hand and awkwardly twisted a lock of hair between her fingers. Susie and Emma had been so long in the bathroom that she had not bothered to shower after her final swim of the day. “It’s a mess,” she said. “It’s the sun and the sea and I ought to get it cut,” she added lamely.
“Don’t!” he said, almost fiercely. “Ever.” And his fingers at the back of her neck pushed up into the thick tangled tresses, spreading them, lifting the weight of them to the top of her head. He delicately brushed his lips across her forehead. She trembled at the warm wetness. “I wonder,” he murmured, “if you taste salty all over.”
“Craig, this is…”
Her words faded as a figure in a dressing gown appeared in the doorway.
“What’s going on? What the…?” said Jenny.
Craig swung round and Tanya leapt out of his arms.
“What are you doing here?” Jenny demanded of him. He shrugged his shoulders. “Meant to get here earlier, but had trouble with the motor en route. But I thought you’d still be up. This is Greece!”
“We need our sleep,” remarked Jenny caustically. “I’m sleeping for two, remember?” She patted her distended stomach. “And Nick and Tanya have been studying hard. They’re both exhausted.”
Tanya swallowed.
“Glad to hear it,” said Craig.
Jenny glared at her brother.
“All right, my loving sister. I know when I’m not welcome.”
“No, you don’t. You wouldn’t be here if you did. Things have been very peaceful without you.”
He opened his mouth as if to retort, but closed it again. He paused. “Let’s start again tomorrow. I’ll get back to the boat.”
Jenny gave him a blistering look, then took Tanya’s arm and ushered her out of the kitchen. “Don’t let him hassle you,” she said as she paused at her bedroom door. “I know my brother and he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”
As Tanya headed for her own room, she noticed Nick’s bedroom door was ajar. Funny, she thought. Why hasn’t he closed it? She gently pushed it open and peered in. The shutters were open and the moonlight streamed onto his bed. A bed that was empty and still neatly made. It had evidently not been used.
“Look!” said Emma, her mouth full of bread and sticky with honey. “There’s a boat! It’s Uncle Craig’s boat.” Philip lowered his reading glasses and peered over the top of his paper.
“Thanks, Lydia,” said Nick softly as the maid topped up his coffee and poured him an orange juice. His eyes left Lydia to follow the direction Emma had indicated. “No. Surely not?”
Tanya adjusted her sunglasses and sipped the strong black coffee. Last night had taken its toll. She glanced at Nick, and wondered what time he had finally got in.
“It is! It is!” shrieked Emma, getting up from her chair and running over to the wall by the pool.
Nick screwed up his eyes. The sun was still low on the horizon. “Certainly looks like it,” he said thoughtfully. “White hull, double black lines under the gunwale. I bet he’s come to check up on me again. Wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Hmmm,” said Jenny. She was not giving anything away. “He does have this way of turning up. Like a bad penny, as they say.”
“There are some binoculars in the lounge,” suggested Philip.
Nick slipped in through the patio doors and reappeared carrying a powerful pair of German binoculars. “Wow!” he said, as he held them to his eyes.
“What?” said Philip.
Tanya looked at Jenny, whose mouth was fixed in a grim line as she busied herself with the girls’ breakfast. She had obviously not mentioned last night’s incident to her husband.
Nick adjusted the focus. “I can’t see the name of the boat,” he said, “but…” He gave a low whistle. “One of the passengers is a bit of all right!”
“Oh, yes?” queried Philip.
“There’s this bird. Spread out on the sunbathing deck. She’s got legs right up to her armpits. Would I like to get her in front of my camera! Want to look?”
“You men!” interrupted Jenny crossly. “You’re all the same in this family. A bunch of Peeping Toms!”
Tanya felt a knot tighten sickenly in the depths of her stomach. His words last night…Can’t get you off my mind… Think of you constantly… And all the time there was a woman with him.
Philip lowered his newspaper and leant across for the binoculars, but Nick hesitated.
“It is Dad’s,” he confirmed. “There he is now, coming up from below. He’s bringing a breakfast tray up on deck. Jesus Christ! You can’t call him a Peeping Tom! More of dirty old man, I’d say. She can’t be much older than me!”
“Here, let’s have a decko,” said Philip.
Nick reluctantly relinquished the binoculars, a broad grin spreading across his face. “At least that little number should keep him off my back.”
Jenny looked meaningfully at Tanya. Her eyes said, I told you so.
Emma climbed the wall and waved wildly.
“Get down!” snapped Jenny. “Finish your breakfast. Uncle Craig will come ashore when he’s good and ready. Unfortunately.”
“Mmmm,” said Philip from behind the binoculars. “By the look of things, that could be some time.”