All The Fire

‘That’s not true!’ She scarcely let him finish. ‘My mother would accept nothing from my father – after – after he deserted us!’

Dimitri endeavoured to control the anger that her words aroused in him. He must try to accept that she was more innocent than he would have believed possible. ‘It is true!’ he said tightly. ‘I can prove it, if you give me time!’

Joanne’s eyes mirrored her distrust of him. ‘Is there more?’ she demanded, biting her lips.

‘Much more,’ he snapped, a trifle impatiently. ‘Much, much more! So much that I doubt my capacity for telling you without losing my temper!’

She stared at him unhappily. ‘Then don’t tell me,’ she said, rather chokingly. ‘Surely you can see you are as biased as I am?’

Dimitri heaved a sigh. ‘Won’t you sit down?’ he inquired tautly. ‘Some of this must be said. I insist. If only for the sake of your father who is still alive. Your mother is dead. What I say cannot hurt her now.’

Joanne hesitated, and then with a gesture she perched rather nervously on the edge of the banquette. ‘Very well,’ she said quietly. ‘What have you to say?’

‘Merely this,’ said Dimitri heavily. ‘Your father is a man involved with his family – every member of his family, and that includes you. Whatever has gone before, he is prepared to forgive you and take you back.’

Joanne stared at him. ‘Take me back?’ she echoed, uncomprehendingly.

‘Maybe my choice of words was unsuitable in the circumstances,’ said Dimitri, leaning his hands on the table and looking down at her. ‘But that was what your letter accomplished, Miss Nicolas!’

Joanne could not meet his gaze for long, and her lashes veiled her eyes. ‘So that was why you imagined I had written to my father,’ she said slowly. ‘Your fears were unfounded, Mr. Kastro.’

Dimitri straightened and frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

Joanne looked up. ‘Surely it’s obvious. Naturally the news of my father’s illness has shocked me, but ultimately it alters nothing.’

Dimitri uttered an expletive. ‘You don’t seem to understand what I am trying to say, Miss Nicolas,’ he affirmed with emphasis. ‘Your father sent me here to bring you back to him!’

Joanne looked positively astounded. ‘My father did what?’

‘I think you heard what I said, Miss Nicolas. What other reaction did you expect him to have?’

Joanne shook her head bewilderedly. ‘I didn’t imagine he would react in any way,’ she exclaimed. ‘After all, why should he? He never bothered about me all these years—’

‘That is not true!’ said Dimitri harshly. ‘You must not labour under that misapprehension!’

‘What do you mean?’ Her young face was strained.

‘Exactly what I say! Believe me, Miss Nicolas, this is as distasteful to me as it is to you, but it seems your mother has deceived you on various points. Your father did not abandon you without making absolutely certain you were well taken care of. And during the years since your parents’ divorce, he has regularly apprised himself of your activities.’

Joanne got unsteadily to her feet, and walked shakily across the room to where a tall window overlooked the bleak aspect of the car-park. ‘I – I can’t believe it,’ she said unevenly. ‘Why – why would my mother do a thing like that?’

Dimitri shrugged. ‘Who knows? Perhaps for the same reasons she discouraged every attempt Matt made to see you.’

Joanne swung round. ‘He tried to see me?’

‘When you were a child, yes. Your mother could not absolutely deny him the right when reasonable access had been granted by the courts, but she made it plain that any attempt he made to do so would meet with her disapproval and he realized that it would be impossible to have any kind of normal relationship with you without her condolence.’ Dimitri sighed. ‘Besides, he considered it unfair to place you between them like a bone of contention. I suppose later – after Marisa was born he became less aggressive, and Andrea naturally didn’t encourage his interest.’

‘This is the woman he married, of course,’ Joanne’s voice was chilled.

‘Yes.’

Joanne shook her head. ‘It’s incredible! I always thought my mother was completely independent. She worked, you know. She had an office job. I didn’t attribute her adequate income to anything except good housekeeping.’ She bit her lip. ‘Anyway, if my mother considered her reasons for keeping us apart were reasonable, I shouldn’t contest them.’

Dimitri studied her pale face. ‘Do you think her reasons were adequate?’

Joanne twisted the strap of her handbag. ‘I’m hardly in a position to judge. I was so young when – when they separated.’

Dimitri stifled an exclamation. ‘Obviously, it is impossible for us to discuss something so personal,’ he said brusquely. ‘However, my reasons for being here are impersonal, to me at least, and it is necessary that we should discuss them.’

‘You mean – my going to see my father?’

‘Of course.’

‘Well, that’s impossible! Absolutely impossible!’

Dimitri frowned. ‘Why?’

‘It’s not that simple,’ Joanne exclaimed. ‘I have a job to do. I can’t take time off – just like that.’

‘Then give up your job. Your father will support you.’ There was contempt in Dimitri’s expression now.

Joanne gave him an eloquent stare. ‘I prefer my independence,’ she averred quietly.

He shrugged. ‘What is your job?’

‘I’m a secretary to a group practice of doctors.’

‘Not an irreplaceable position,’ he commented dryly.

‘No. But I like it,’ she replied hotly. ‘And my holiday is fixed for June. I’m getting married then.’

‘Indeed?’ Dimitri’s voice was like ice. ‘While your father is slowly dying.’

Joanne gasped, and bent her head. ‘That’s a cruel thing to say,’ she whispered.

Dimitri took a deep breath. It was a cruel thing to say, he knew that, but he was fighting for Matt’s peace of mind. Until now it had never occurred to him that she might refuse, but to return to Matt with her refusal was untenable. Somehow she had got to be made to see sense. He clenched his fists, wishing he could simply demand that she accompany him, but he could not, and not even the hurt anguish in her eyes could deter him from doing everything in his power to get her to agree.

‘Have you ever been to Greece, Miss Nicolas?’ he asked now.

Joanne looked up. ‘No. When my parents were married my father worked in London.’

Dimitri considered this. ‘I suppose you do realize that your father is a Greek,’ he queried harshly.

Joanne stiffened. ‘Of course.’

‘Your letter was sent to the firm’s offices in Athens; don’t you know where your father actually lives?’

‘Why should I?’ she asked sharply.

Dimitri shrugged. ‘He owns an island, Dionysius. He and Andrea moved there almost ten years ago.’

Joanne compressed her lips. ‘That’s of no interest to me.’

‘Isn’t it? Aren’t you the faintest bit curious about your father? Or his second wife? Or your half-sister?’

‘What are you trying to do, Mr. Kastro?’

Dimitri clenched his fists. ‘I’m trying to make you see sense, Miss Nicolas,’ he said violently. ‘And I’m also trying to keep my temper in the face of extreme provocation!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean you are a selfish young woman, Miss Nicolas, if you can continue with your life here with complete disregard for the man who sowed the seed of your conception in your mother’s womb!’ His dark face was contorted with his anger, and she moved uncomfortably.

‘What would you have me do?’ she cried.

‘I would have you go to Dionysius!’ he told her roughly. ‘I would have you make a dying man happy!’

She pressed the palms of her hands to her hot cheeks. ‘And what of my family? My fiancé?’

‘I am not asking you to abandon your fiancé,’ returned Dimitri impatiently. ‘Surely between now and June you could find the time to spend a visit with your father!’

Joanne looked confused. ‘And my job… .’ she murmured, almost to herself.

‘Leave it!’ he commanded coldly. ‘No doubt you will be leaving in June anyway.’

She frowned. ‘Why?’

‘You said you were getting married,’ he reminded her briefly.

‘In England a wife does not give up her job,’ returned Joanne, with a trace of humour.

Dimitri inclined his dark head. ‘That is indeed a pity,’ he commented expressionlessly.

She shook her head. ‘I need time to think – to talk this over with my fiancé.’

‘I presume the young man at the cemetery was your fiancé.’

‘That’s right.’

Dimitri gave a derogatory grimace. ‘Then I imagine your task will not be a pleasant one,’ he remarked. ‘I do not believe he will voice any enthusiasm for my suggestions.’

Joanne sighed. ‘Jimmy is possessive,’ she admitted.

‘He is also very stupid if he imagines a woman with independent tendencies like yourself appreciates such an attitude,’ Dimitri observed.

Joanne’s eyes darkened. ‘I don’t need your opinion, Mr. Kastro,’ she replied sharply. ‘Jimmy and his parents have been very good to both my mother and myself.’ There was a faint choking sound in her voice, and Dimitri realized he had forgotten exactly what she had been through today.

He realized, also, that he felt suddenly very weary. ‘Very well, Miss Nicolas,’ he said now. ‘I have your word that you will consider my proposition – your father’s proposition?’

Joanne nodded. ‘I don’t have much choice,’ she replied. ‘Contrary to your beliefs, Mr. Kastro, I am not without emotions, and quite honestly the prospect of meeting my father arouses my curiosity if nothing else.’ She bit her lip. ‘That’s a terrible admission to make, isn’t it, on the very day my mother is buried?’

Dimitri lifted his broad shoulders eloquently. ‘It would be unnatural for you not to be curious about your father,’ he stated. ‘We are all human, Miss Nicolas.’

Joanne sighed. ‘With human failings,’ she added.

As their interview appeared to be at an end, Dimitri walked towards the door. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘I will run you home,’ but this time she was adamant.

‘I’d rather be alone,’ she affirmed. ‘I’ll give you my decision tomorrow.’

‘At twelve.’ He was cold and businesslike, but as yet he could feel no pity for her. She nodded, and after she had gone Dimitri went swiftly up to his suite. Pouring himself a stiff drink, he loosened his tie and flung himself on the bed. He was relieved that the interview was over and yet he knew that there was something about Joanne Nicolas which would linger in his thoughts. Even while he was verbally berating her downstairs he had been aware of her attraction, and his senses had stirred in spite of himself. He felt a cynical amusement at his own vulnerability, and deliberately forced his thoughts into less disturbing channels.

CHAPTER TWO

JOANNE turned into Latimer Road with some misgivings. She wished it could have been possible for her to return to the house without having to face her aunt and uncle. Aunt Emma was her mother’s only sister and obviously she would have little sympathy with any pleas Joanne might make on her father’s behalf. She was bound to support all that Joanne’s mother had done, and it would not be easy to convince her that Joanne could not in all conscience ignore everything that Dimitri Kastro had told her.

And then of course there was Jimmy to face. He had made his attitude very plain and his instant dismissal of the other man had been an instinctive effort to show his authority where Joanne was concerned. It was certainly a difficult situation, but at least it had in part banished the sense of bereavement that had previously absorbed her. Maybe she was being unreasonable in considering all that Dimitri Kastro had told her on a day when her thoughts should have been all with her mother. But in spite of everything that had gone before, Matthieu Nicolas was her father and the knowledge that he was dying had disturbed her quite badly. She couldn’t remember him at all, of course, and what little her mother had told her about him had not been complimentary, and yet Joanne had to admit to herself that he was still her parent, and as such, the closest living relative she possessed.

She reached number twenty-seven, and pushed open the gate. There were lights in the front lounge, the dullness of the day requiring the artificial illumination. She could see her aunt and uncle and their son, her cousin Alan, watching the television, while Jimmy was standing at the window and waved enthusiastically when he saw her.

He came to meet her as she entered the hall of the small house, taking her coat from her and saying: ‘You’ve been ages! You should have let me run you back.’

Joanne managed a faint smile, smoothing her hair behind her ears automatically. ‘Mr. Kastro offered to run me back,’ she said quietly, ‘but I preferred to get the bus. I needed time to think.’

‘Think? What about?’ Jimmy frowned.

Joanne sighed. ‘Lots of things.’ She moved down the hall despite his attempts to detain her. ‘Is there a cup of tea? I’m thirsty.’

Aunt Emma came bustling out of the lounge. ‘So there you are, Joanne,’ she exclaimed. ‘And about time, too. Whatever have you been doing? It’s almost six!’

Joanne shook her head. ‘Is there some tea?’ she asked, ignoring her aunt’s question.

‘Of course. Though you’d better boil up the kettle, it’s ages since it was made. We’ve all had some sandwiches. I thought we’d better get on. Mrs. Thwaites has gone. She said she had to see to her husband’s tea.’

Joanne nodded. ‘That’s all right, Aunt Emma, I can manage. Did you have plenty to eat?’

Her aunt dabbed her eyes. ‘I wasn’t particularly hungry,’ she maintained with a sniff. ‘Joanne, what did that man want with you? Foreigners! I never did trust them. Look what happened to your dear mother …’

‘Not now, Aunt Emma,’ exclaimed Joanne, brushing past her into the small kitchenette. ‘Er – Jimmy – empty the teapot, will you, love?’

Both Jimmy and her aunt were forced to accept that for the moment Joanne had no intention of divulging her affairs, so Aunt Emma returned to the lounge where she could be heard talking in undertones to her husband. Joanne half-smiled. She could guess what she was saying. She was well aware that Aunt Emma considered her whole attitude sadly lacking in sympathy, but it was simply that Joanne was not the kind of person who could publicly display her grief and consequently sometimes she appeared cold and unfeeling.

Jimmy emptied the teapot into the sink, and busied himself with the dirty dishes. If he was curious he was endeavouring to conceal it. Joanne watched him with gentle eyes. She did love him, she thought tenderly. He was so kind, so reliable, so lovable! She smiled and on impulse slid her arms round his waist from behind, hugging him.

‘Hey!’ he exclaimed, with pleasure, turning round to her. ‘What’s all this? Cupboard love?’

Joanne shook her head. ‘No, nothing much. Oh, Jimmy, what I’ve got to tell you you’re not going to like!’

Jimmy’s face darkened. ‘No? Why?’

Joanne sighed and drew back from him, aware of the change in his attitude at her words. ‘I’ve got to go to Greece,’ she said, without preamble. ‘My father wants to see me.’

Jimmy’s face registered shock, anger and disbelief in quick succession. ‘You can’t be serious!’

She nodded slowly. ‘I’m afraid I am, Jimmy. I have a reason …’

‘What possible reason can you have?’ he interrupted her. ‘My God, only hours ago you were considering the way your mother was left with you to bring up on a pittance! Now that she’s buried you’re actually considering visiting the man responsible because he sends some blasted henchman to bring you to him!’

‘No,’ protested Joanne. ‘It’s not like that.’ She sighed, seeking words to explain things to him. ‘My father is very ill – he’s dying, in fact. He wants to see me—’

‘It’s a bit late for him to want that now, isn’t it?’ sneered Jimmy, his good-humour banished. ‘What is this? Some kind of dying act of recompense? Is he making retribution for his sins?’

‘No!’ Joanne turned away, fumbling with cups and saucers. She had known Jimmy would take this badly, but what could she do? She had to go. Of that she was certain. It didn’t matter what anyone said, she had to accept that at least part of what Dimitri Kastro had said was true. ‘Jimmy,’ she pleaded, ‘try to understand.’

Jimmy slammed shut the cutlery drawer and leant back against the sink. ‘What’s there to understand?’ he snapped angrily. ‘I don’t understand you, that’s obvious!’

Joanne gave a helpless gesture. ‘I have no choice.’

‘Didn’t your mother mean anything to you, Joanne?’ he exclaimed.

‘How can you ask that?’ she whispered. ‘You know I loved her very much.’

‘Then how can you do this to her memory?’

Joanne swung round. ‘Do what? She’s dead! What I do can’t hurt her now! I have to think of my father; he’s still alive!’

‘And when did he think of you?’

Joanne didn’t want to discuss that. She didn’t want to tell Jimmy what Dimitri Kastro had said until she knew more about it. If what he had said was true then surely even Jimmy must feel less aggressive. But right now he was not likely to even listen to her.

Now, she said: ‘When my parents were divorced and my mother was given custody of me, my father made several attempts to see me. But he didn’t succeed. My mother made it plain that it would be better for me not to see him and he accepted that.’

‘I’ll bet he did!’ Jimmy hunched his shoulders. ‘I don’t suppose his second wife encouraged his interest.’

Joanne shrugged. ‘I don’t suppose she did. They have a child – a girl – my half-sister.’

Jimmy snorted. ‘How touching! And what is this visit to be? A kind of family reunion?’

‘Oh, no, nothing like that. Look, Jimmy, my father sent Mr. Kastro to ask me to come to Greece, to see him. In the normal way I would refuse outright. As it is, I can’t.’

Jimmy chewed his lower lip. ‘Because of his illness?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re sure he is ill?’

Joanne coloured. ‘I have no reason to doubt it,’ she said stiffly.

Jimmy shook his head helplessly. ‘It doesn’t make sense! Why ever did you write to him in the first place?’

Joanne lifted her shoulders. ‘I don’t know. I just felt he should know. After all, she was his wife – his first wife.’

‘Hmmn!’ Jimmy sounded impatient. ‘You didn’t tell me you’d written.’

‘I didn’t tell anyone. Heavens, I only wrote three days ago. And these last three days haven’t exactly been easy for me!’

‘I suppose not.’ Jimmy sighed, running a hand over his hair. ‘Are you going to tell your aunt?’

‘I shall have to, shan’t I?’

‘Today?’

Joanne shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I should wait. Give her time to get over your mother’s death.’ He looked at her suddenly with speculative eyes. ‘How much time have you? When do you intend to go?’ He gave an exclamation. ‘What about your job?’

Joanne was thankful that the kettle boiled at that moment. She didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t know sufficient about it herself to make any statements. She made the tea and added milk to the cups, hoping he would be diverted. But as she poured the tea, he said:

‘Well, Jo? What’s on your mind now?’

Joanne sighed. ‘Honestly, I don’t know myself yet. I – I – promised to meet Mr. Kastro tomorrow at twelve to give him my decision.’

Jimmy’s face brightened. ‘You mean you haven’t committed yourself?’

Joanne shook her head again. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m going to.’

‘But why?’ Jimmy made an angry gesture. ‘You’re crazy! We’ve got a good life here, haven’t we? You’ve got a good job and so have I. In a few weeks we’ll be looking around for a house and then there’s the wedding… . How can you jeopardize everything? Can’t you write to your father and explain how things are?’

Joanne looked uncomfortable. ‘No,’ she said finally. ‘How could I write and tell a dying man that I haven’t the time – or the inclination – to visit him?’

‘And what about your job? These trips cost money.’

Joanne shrugged. ‘I expect my father will pay my fare.’

‘Oh, I see. It’s his money that interests you!’ Jimmy’s lip curled.

‘That’s a foul thing to say,’ she cried unsteadily. ‘If that’s the way you feel I can pay my own fare! I don’t want his money; not any of it!’

‘Huh!’ Jimmy turned and stared moodily out of the window at the darkened garden. ‘And what will you do if they won’t release you at the practice?’

Joanne returned her cup to its saucer, the tea untasted. ‘For goodness’ sake, Jimmy,’ she exclaimed, ‘stop asking me questions! Give me time to think about it! It was as much of a shock to me as it was to you, seeing that man at the cemetery!’

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed. ‘Bloody foreigner!’ he muttered fiercely. ‘I knew he meant trouble as soon as I saw him. What is he? Your father’s bodyguard, or something?’

‘I don’t know who he is,’ Joanne told him quietly. ‘He said he was some distant relation, a cousin or something.’ She bent her head. ‘And when you talk about foreigners remember I’m half Greek myself!’

Jimmy rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘You may have had Greek ancestors, but you’re as English as I am,’ he ex-postulated. ‘I’ve never heard you mention that before!’

Joanne lifted her shoulders. ‘I suppose like Mother I didn’t like to think about it.’

‘And now you do?’ Jimmy sounded impatient.

‘I didn’t say so.’

‘You didn’t have to.’ Jimmy hunched his shoulders. ‘Hell, this beats everything! Don’t I get any say in this at all?’

Joanne felt unutterably weary, the day finally exacting its toll upon her. ‘Jimmy, if it was your father, what would you do?’

‘That’s a bit different.’

Joanne poured the tea she had made down the sink. ‘Let’s join the others,’ she suggested tiredly, and with ill grace Jimmy preceded her into the lounge.

It wasn’t until later when Joanne was in bed that she allowed the whole weight of the problem to invade her mind. Was she being unreasonable in agreeing to go and see her father? Was she being careless of Jimmy’s – of her aunt’s – feelings? In truth only Jimmy knew as yet, but she knew if she did decide definitely to go she would have to tell her aunt if only because she would hate her to hear it from any other source, and Mrs. Lorrimer, Jimmy’s mother, knew her aunt reasonably well.

Not that she expected Jimmy to divulge her private affairs, but if he felt driven enough by his own feelings he might be unable to hide that something was wrong from his parents.

Joanne punched her pillow into shape, trying to relax. She knew she really had no need to consider the problem; she had to go. Her conscience would not allow her to refuse. And anyway, if what Dimitri Kastro had said was true then her father deserved the chance to meet his elder child.

She didn’t know who to believe. Her mother had always been so bitter when it came to her father that she had not persevered with too many questions and consequently she knew very little about their divorce. If it was true that her father had been sending her mother money all these years then her mother must have decided it was better to keep the knowledge to herself. It was hard to exist on one person’s salary, Joanne excused her thoughtfully, and who could blame anyone for accepting what was, after all, their due?

Even so, it was a little disturbing to discover that the woman around whom you had built your life had been systematically deceiving you.

Her thoughts turned to more immediate matters. The following day was Friday and she was not expected back at her desk until Monday morning. But once her decision was taken she would have to contact Dr. Hastings, the senior partner in the practice, and explain the position to him. It was extremely doubtful that he would appreciate her problems, for her work required a certain amount of local knowledge and she was very efficient in this respect. She knew most of the patients, she knew which doctor they invariably saw, and she was capable of deciding what was serious and what was not. She had been with the practice for three years and as she was rarely absent herself they relied upon her completely.