A Devious Desire

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Saffron shot a worried glance at Anna, who seemed to have gone very quiet among this crowd of confident relatives, and, edging her way to her side, she asked, ‘Are you all right?’

Alex caught her whispered question and responded for his mother. ‘Of course she is; she is with her family.’ But Saffron wasn’t so sure. And now, Saffron having just finished massaging Anna with a reviving mixture of aromatherapy oils, the pair of them were relaxing for a few minutes over a very English pot of tea, delivered by the steward a few minutes earlier.

‘So what do you think of the family?’ Anna asked with a cynicism that Saffron had never seen in the other woman before. ‘You can be honest; I won’t mind.’

‘Well, I…I don’t really know them; I mean, first impressions can be…’ She was digging herself into a pit, but she was no good at lying. ‘They’re very Greek…’

Thankfully Anna’s light laugh stopped her babbling. ‘Exactly. Do you know, dear, sometimes I even forget my son is half English? He has such a Greek outlook on family. He insists every year that the relatives holiday together, and he has no idea of the agony it is for me.’

‘What’s the matter? Don’t you get on with them?’ Perhaps it was because she was English, but Saffron dismissed that notion immediately. The Greeks were very friendly on the whole, and had a particular liking for the English. No, something else was bothering Anna.

The older lady replaced her teacup on the small table, and dramatically let her head drop back against the soft cushions of the sofa. Then she looked at Saffron, her blue eyes serious.

‘You remember on Rhodes when I showed you the cafe and I said I would tell you my life story one day? Today is the time, I think.’

‘You don’t need to.’ Saffron was worried by the strange quality in Anna’s voice. But, as if she had never heard her, Anna continued.

‘I must; like all Greek tragedies it needs telling. My husband was an honourable man and he married me because I was pregnant. I loved him, and was happy. His elder brother was married to Katherina and lived in New York. My son was twelve years old when they first came back to stay with us. I saw my husband look at Katherina and I knew they were more than friends. At a party held in their honour she told me quite openly that my husband had always loved her, that she married his older brother because he was wealthier at the time, but she could get my husband at the snap of her fingers.’