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“I have to go back to work,” Demiris said.
Over the next few weeks, Sybil Potter constantly found excuses to send for the young man.
“Henry left again this morning,” she told him. “He’s off to do his silly drilling.” She added archly, “He should do more drilling at home.”
Demiris had no answer. The geologist was a very important man in the company hierarchy and Demiris had no intention of getting involved with Potter’s wife and jeopardizing his own job. He was not sure exactly how, but he knew without question that one way or another this job was going to be his passport to everything he dreamed of. Oil was the future and he was determined to be a part of it.
One midnight, Sybil Potter sent for Demiris. He walked into the compound where she lived and knocked at the door.
“Come in.” Sybil was wearing a thin nightgown that unfortunately concealed nothing.
“I—did you want to see me, ma’am?”
“Yes, come in Costa. This bedside lamp doesn’t seem to be working.”
Demiris averted his eyes and walked over to the lamp. He picked it up to examine it. “There’s no bulb in …” And he felt her body pressing against his back and her hands groping him. “Mrs. Potter …”
Her lips were on his and she was pushing him onto the bed. And he had no control over what happened next.
His clothes were off and he was plunging into her and she was screaming with joy. “That’s it! Oh, yes, that’s it. My God, it’s been so long!”
She gave a final gasp and shuddered. “Oh, darling, I love you.”
Demiris lay there panicky. What have I done? If Potter ever finds out I’m finished.
As though reading his mind, Sybil Potter giggled, “This will be our little secret, won’t it, darling?”
Their little secret went on for the next several months. There was no way Demiris could avoid her and, since her husband was away for days at a time on his explorations, Demiris could think of no excuse to keep from going to bed with her. What made it worse was that Sybil Potter had fallen madly in love with him.
“You’re much too good to be working in a place like this, darling,” she told him. “You and I are going back to England.”
“My home is Greece.”
“Not anymore.” She stroked his long, lean body. “You’re going to come back home with me. I’ll divorce Henry and we’ll get married.”
Demiris felt a sudden sense of panic. “Sybil, I … I have no money. I …”
She ran her lips down his chest. “That’s no problem. I know how you can make some money, sweetheart.”
“You do?”
She sat up in bed. “Last night, Henry told me he’s just discovered some big new oil field. He’s very clever at that, you know. Anyway, he seemed terribly excited about it. He wrote out his report before he left and he asked me to send it out in the morning pouch. I have it here. Would you like to see it?”
Demiris’s heart began to beat faster. “Yes. I … I would.” He watched her get out of bed and lumber over to a small battered table in the corner. She picked up a large manila envelope and returned to the bed with it.
“Open it.”
Demiris hesitated for only an instant. He opened the envelope and took out the papers inside. There were five pages. He scanned through them quickly, then went back to the beginning and read every word.
“Is that information worth anything?”
Is that information worth anything? It was a report on a new field that could possibly turn out to be one of the richest oil fields in history.
Demiris swallowed. “Yes. It … it could be.”
“Well, there you are,” Sybil said happily. “Now we have money.”
He sighed. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
Demiris explained. “This is valuable to someone who can afford to buy up options on the land around this area. But that takes money.” He had three hundred dollars in his bank account.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Henry has money. I’ll write a check. Will five thousand dollars be enough?”
Constantin Demiris could not believe what he was hearing. “Yes. I … I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s for us, darling. For our future.”
He sat up in bed thinking hard. “Sybil, do you think you could hold on to that report for the next day or two?”
“Of course. I’ll keep it till Friday. Will that give you enough time, darling?”
He nodded slowly. “That will give me enough time.”
With the five thousand dollars that Sybil gave him—no, it’s not a gift, it’s a loan, he told himself—Constantin Demiris bought up options on acres of land around the new potential strike. Some months later, when the gushers began to come in in the main field, Constantin Demiris was an instant millionaire.
He repaid Sybil Potter the five thousand dollars, sent her a new nightgown, and returned to Greece. She never saw him again.
Chapter Three (#ulink_8fca712a-fc19-50e7-bd9c-267dba188a30)
There is a theory that nothing in nature is ever lost—that every sound ever made, every word ever spoken, still exists somewhere in space and time and may one day be recalled.
Before radio was invented, they say, who would have believed that the air around us was filled with the sounds of music and news and voices from around the world? One day we will be able to travel back in time and listen to Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, the voice of Shakespeare, the Sermon on the Mount …
Catherine Alexander heard voices from her past, but they were muffled and fragmented, and they filled her with confusion. …
“Do you know you’re a very special girl, Cathy? I felt it from the first time I saw you. …”
“It’s over. I want a divorce. … I’m in love with someone else. …”
“I know how badly I’ve behaved. … I’d like to make it up to you. …”
“He tried to kill me.”
“Who tried to kill you?”
“My husband.”
The voices would not stop. They were a torment. Her past became a kaleidoscope of shifting images that kept racing through her mind.
The convent should have been a wonderful, peaceful haven, but it had suddenly become a prison. I don’t belong here. But where do I belong? She had no idea.
There were no mirrors in the convent, but there was a reflecting pool outside, near the garden. Catherine had carefully avoided it, afraid of what it might reveal to her. But on this morning, she walked over to it, slowly knelt, and looked down. The pool reflected a lovely-looking suntanned woman with black hair, flawless features, and solemn gray eyes that seemed filled with pain … but perhaps that was merely a trick of the water. She saw a generous mouth that looked ready to smile, and a nose that was slightly turned up—a beautiful woman in her early thirties. But a woman with no past and no future. A woman lost. I need someone to help me, Catherine thought desperately, someone I can talk to. She went into Sister Theresa’s office.
“Sister …”
“Yes, child?”
“I … think I would like to see a doctor. Someone who can help me find out who I am.”
Sister Theresa looked at her a long moment. “Sit down.”
Catherine sat on the hard chair across from the ancient, scarred desk.
Sister Theresa said quietly: “My dear, God is your doctor. In due time He will let you know what He wishes you to know. Besides, no outsiders are ever permitted within these walls.”
Catherine had a sudden flash of memory … a vague image of a man talking to her in the garden of the convent, handing her something … but then it was gone.
“I don’t belong here.”
“Where do you belong?”
And that was the problem. “I’m not sure. I’m searching for something. Forgive me, Sister Theresa, but I know it isn’t here.”
Sister Theresa was studying her, her face thoughtful. “I see. If you left here, where would you go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let me think about this, child. We will talk again soon.”
“Thank you, Sister.”
When Catherine left, Sister Theresa sat at her desk for a long time, staring at nothing. It was a difficult decision that she had to make. Finally she reached for a piece of paper and a pen and began to write.
“Dear Sir,” she began. “Something has happened that I feel I should call to your attention. Our mutual friend has informed me that she wishes to leave the convent. Please advise me what to do.”
He read the note once, and then sat back in his chair, analyzing the consequences of the message. So! Catherine Alexander wants to come back from the dead. Too bad. I’ll have to get rid of her. Carefully. Very carefully.
The first step was to remove her from the convent. Demiris decided it was time to pay Sister Theresa a visit.
The following morning, Demiris had his chauffeur take him to Ioannina. Driving through the countryside, Constantin Demiris thought about Catherine Alexander. He remembered how beautiful she had been when he had first met her. She had been bright and funny and high-spirited, excited about being in Greece. She had had everything, Demiris thought. And then the gods had taken their vengeance. Catherine had been married to one of his pilots, and their marriage had become a living hell. Almost overnight, she had aged ten years and become a fat, blowsy drunk. Demiris sighed. What a waste.
Demiris was seated in Sister Theresa’s office.
“I hated to bother you about this,” Sister Theresa apologized, “but the child has nowhere to go and …”
“You did the right thing,” Constantin Demiris assured her. “Does she remember anything of her past?”
Sister Theresa shook her head. “No. The poor dear …” She walked over to the window where several nuns were working in the garden. “She’s out there now.”
Constantin Demiris moved to her side and looked out the window. There were three nuns with their backs to him. He waited. One of them turned and he could see her face, and his breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful. What had happened to that fat, ravaged woman?
“She’s the one in the middle,” Sister Theresa said.
Demiris nodded. “Yes.” Sister Theresa’s words were truer than she knew.
“What do you want me to do with her?”
Careful. “Let me think about it,” Demiris said. “I’ll be in touch with you.”
Constantin Demiris had a decision to make. Catherine Alexander’s appearance had caught him by surprise. She had changed so completely. No one would know it’s the same woman, he thought. And the idea that came into his head was so diabolically simple that he almost laughed aloud.
That evening he dispatched a note to Sister Theresa.
It’s a miracle, Catherine thought. A dream come true. Sister Theresa had stopped by her tiny cell after matins.
“I have some news for you, child.”
“Yes?”
Sister Theresa chose her words carefully. “Good news. I have written to a friend of the convent about you, and he wishes to help you.”
Catherine could feel her heart leap. “Help me—how?”
“That is something he will have to tell you. But he is a very kind and generous man. You will be leaving the convent.”
And the words sent a sudden, unexpected chill through Catherine. She would be going out into a strange world she could not even remember. And who was her benefactor?
All Sister Theresa would say was: “He is a very caring man. You should be grateful. His car will be here for you Monday morning.”
Catherine was unable to sleep for the next two nights. The idea of leaving the convent and going into the world outside was suddenly terrifying. She felt naked and lost. Perhaps I’m better off not knowing who I am. Please God, keep an eye on me.
On Monday, the limousine arrived outside the convent gate at seven o’clock in the morning. Catherine had been awake all night thinking about the unknown future that lay ahead of her.
Sister Theresa walked her to the gate that led to the world outside.
“We will pray for you. Remember, if you decide to come back to us you will always have a place here.”
“Thank you, Sister. I’ll remember.”
But in her heart, Catherine was sure that she was never going to return.
The long drive from Ioannina to Athens filled Catherine with a series of conflicting emotions. It was tremendously exciting to be outside the gates of the convent, and yet there was something ominous about the world beyond. Was she going to learn what terrible thing had happened in her past? Did it have anything todo with her recurring dream that someone was trying to drown her?
In the early afternoon, the countryside gave way to small villages, and finally they reached the outskirts of Athens and soon were in the middle of the bustling city. It all seemed strange and unreal to Catherine—and yet oddly familiar. I’ve been here before, Catherine thought excitedly.
The driver headed east, and fifteen minutes later they reached an enormous estate high on a hill. They drove through a tall iron gate and a stone gate house, up a long driveway lined with majestic cypress trees, and stopped before a large white Mediterranean villa framed by half a dozen magnificent statues.
