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"
When
I
was
thirteen
I
was
—
well
the
stock
euphemism
is
…
"
her
voice
sank
lower
than
the
wind
"
…
interfered
with
.
"
It
was
like
hitting
an
air
-
pocket
;
my
mind
plunged
—
some
terrible
wound
,
some
physical
incapacity
…
I
stared
at
the
back
of
her
head
.
She
kept
her
face
averted
.
"
I
’
ve
rationalized
it
and
rationalized
it
,
I
know
it
’
s
just
biology
.
Mechanism
.
But
I
’
ve
…
"
her
voice
trailed
away
.
I
kissed
her
shoulder
through
the
fabric
.
"
It
’
s
as
if
—
with
even
the
nicest
men
,
men
like
you
—
I
can
’
t
help
suspecting
that
they
’
re
just
using
me
.
As
if
everyone
else
was
born
able
to
distinguish
love
and
lust
.
But
I
wasn
’
t
.
"
She
lay
curled
up
,
head
on
hand
.
"
I
’
m
so
sorry
.
I
’
m
not
abnormal
.
If
you
could
just
be
patient
with
me
.
"
"
Infinitely
patient
.
"
"
You
’
re
only
the
second
man
I
’
ve
ever
told
this
to
.
"
I
took
her
hand
and
kissed
it
again
.
There
was
a
silence
.
She
turned
,
gave
me
a
little
self
-
ashamed
smile
.
Her
cheeks
were
red
.
"
I
think
about
you
all
the
time
.
"
"
I
think
about
you
all
the
time
.
"
For
a
long
time
we
said
nothing
;
lay
in
the
warmth
of
a
new
closeness
.
Then
the
bell
rang
.
I
said
,
"
To
hell
with
it
.
I
’
m
not
going
.
"
"
You
must
.
"
"
No
.
"
"
Please
.
"
Such
tender
regret
in
her
eyes
.
"
If
we
’
re
going
to
go
on
.
"
"
I
’
ll
come
tomorrow
.
"
"
We
’
re
going
away
for
two
days
.
"
"
To
Nauplia
?
"
"
I
suppose
.
"
"
There
’
s
so
much
.
"
"
I
know
.
"
Silence
;
eyes
.
The
bell
rang
again
:
dang
,
dang
,
dang
,
dang
,
dang
.
She
stood
up
.
"
Julie
.
"
"
Nicholas
.
"
"
It
seems
so
simple
to
me
.
"
"
You
must
teach
me
.
I
’
ll
be
your
pupil
.
"
"
Wednesday
?
"
"
I
promise
.
"
We
stared
at
each
other
intensely
for
a
moment
;
then
I
picked
up
my
bag
and
set
off
.
After
a
few
paces
I
looked
back
,
and
she
touched
her
fingers
to
her
lips
.
And
later
still
,
waved
.
Twice
,
three
times
,
till
I
went
out
of
sight
.
I
got
to
the
house
.
Hermes
the
donkey
driver
was
waiting
there
solemnly
,
but
with
no
air
of
urgency
.
He
wanted
to
know
if
I
had
my
prammata
,
my
things
:
he
had
to
lock
up
.
I
said
impatiently
,
I
have
them
.
Did
I
want
to
ride
his
donkey
back
?
No
.
I
went
quickly
to
the
gate
.
Once
outside
I
struck
off
to
the
northeast
,
until
I
came
to
a
place
where
I
could
see
the
bluff
that
ran
inland
along
the
eastern
boundary
,
and
the
bay
with
the
three
cottages
.
I
leant
against
a
tree
,
and
waited
for
a
pink
or
a
black
shape
to
come
running
through
the
trees
towards
the
cottages
;
or
for
the
sound
of
a
boat
beyond
Bourani
,
or
down
at
Moutsa
.
But
the
bay
lay
silent
,
the
afternoon
sea
stretched
out
down
towards
Crete
,
ninety
miles
away
.
The
fleet
had
disappeared
.
I
watched
the
steepling
shadows
thrown
by
some
cypresses
near
the
cottages
lengthen
,
stab
into
the
golden
earth
.
An
hour
passed
.
And
then
a
small
caïque
did
come
chugging
round
the
headland
to
the
east
of
the
bay
.
It
looked
like
a
small
island
boat
.
I
could
make
out
a
man
with
a
white
shirt
aboard
.
It
disappeared
behind
the
cliffs
of
Bourani
;
but
it
did
not
seem
to
halt
,
and
a
quarter
of
an
hour
later
I
could
tell
it
was
still
heading
east
,
beyond
Moutsa
.
By
then
I
was
resigned
to
not
seeing
Lily
Perhaps
the
caïque
had
picked
them
up
,
although
it
was
the
hour
when
the
island
fishermen
often
set
out
for
their
night
’
s
work
.
So
I
walked
back
to
the
school
,
temporarily
detumescent
,
but
buoyed
on
by
a
deep
excitement
;
a
clear
glimpse
of
a
profound
future
happiness
;
of
at
last
having
in
my
hand
,
after
a
long
run
of
low
cards
,
the
joker
and
all
four
aces
.
Or
three
,
at
any
rate
.
That
same
Sunday
evening
I
threw
away
the
thread
in
the
envelope
;
and
I
composed
letters
to
Mrs
.
Holmes
at
Cerne
Abbas
,
to
Mr
.
P
.
J
.
Fearn
,
and
the
headmistress
of
the
grammar
school
.
In
the
first
I
explained
that
I
had
met
Julie
and
June
in
connection
with
their
film
;
that
the
local
village
schoolmaster
had
asked
me
to
find
a
rural
school
in
England
that
would
provide
"
pen
pals
"
;
and
that
the
two
girls
had
suggested
that
I
should
write
to
their
mother
and
ask
her
to
put
me
in
touch
with
the
primary
school
at
Cerne
Abbas
—
and
as
soon
as
possible
,
as
our
term
was
ending
shortly
.
In
the
second
I
said
that
I
wanted
to
open
an
account
and
that
I
had
been
recommended
by
two
customers
at
the
branch
.
In
the
third
I
gave
myself
the
principalship
of
a
language
school
opening
in
the
autumn
in
Athens
;
a
Miss
Julie
Holmes
had
applied
for
a
post
.
On
Monday
I
read
the
drafts
through
,
altered
a
word
or
two
,
then
wrote
the
first
two
in
longhand
and
laboriously
typed
the
last
in
the
bursar
’
s
office
,
where
there
was
an
ancient
English
-
character
machine
.
I
knew
the
third
letter
was
a
bit
far
-
fetched
;
film
stars
do
not
normally
become
down
-
and
-
out
teachers
abroad
.
But
any
sort
of
reply
would
serve
.
And
then
,
deciding
I
might
as
well
be
hung
for
a
suspicious
sheep
as
for
a
suspicious
lamb
,
I
wrote
two
more
letters
,
one
to
the
Tavistock
Rep
…
and
another
to
Girton
,
at
Cambridge
.
I
posted
those
five
letters
;
and
with
them
one
to
Leverrier
.
I
had
half
hoped
that
there
might
be
a
letter
waiting
for
me
from
Mitford
.
But
I
knew
mine
to
him
had
probably
to
be
forwarded
;
and
even
then
he
might
well
not
answer
it
.
I
made
the
letter
to
Leverrier
very
brief
,
merely
explaining
who
I
was
and
then
saying
:
My
real
reason
for
writing
is
that
I
have
got
into
a
rather
complicated
situation
at
Bourani
.
I
understand
that
you
used
to
visit
Mr
.
Conchis
over
there
—
he
told
me
this
himself
.
I
really
need
the
benefit
of
someone
else
’
s
advice
and
experience
at
the
moment
.
i
’
d
better
add
that
this
is
not
only
for
myself
.
Others
are
involved
.
We
should
be
very
grateful
for
any
sort
of
reply
from
you
,
for
reasons
that
I
have
a
feeling
you
will
appreciate
.
Even
as
I
sealed
that
letter
I
knew
that
Mitford
’
s
and
Leverrier
’
s
silence
was
the
best
possible
augury
of
what
would
happen
to
me
.
If
in
previous
years
something
had
happened
to
annoy
them
at
Bourani
,
they
would
surely
have
talked
;
and
if
they
were
silent
,
then
it
must
be
with
the
silence
of
gratitude
.
I
had
not
forgotten
Mitford
’
s
story
of
his
row
with
Conchis
;
or
his
warning
.
But
I
began
to
doubt
his
motives
.
The
more
I
thought
about
it
the
surer
I
was
that
Demetriades
was
the
spy
.
The
first
rule
of
counterespionage
is
to
look
fooled
,
so
I
was
especially
friendly
with
him
after
supper
on
Sunday
.
We
strolled
out
on
the
school
jetty
to
get
what
breaths
of
air
still
moved
in
the
oppressive
night
heat
.
Yes
thank
you
,
Méli
,
I
said
,
I
’
ve
had
a
nice
weekend
at
Bourani
.
Reading
and
swimming
and
listening
to
music
I
even
laughed
at
his
obscene
guesses
as
to
how
I
really
passed
my
time
there
;
and
I
thanked
him
once
again
for
keeping
so
-
quiet
about
it
all
with
the
other
masters
.
As
we
strolled
up
and
down
I
looked
across
the
dark
water
of
the
straits
between
the
island
and
the
Argolian
mainland
;
there
to
the
west
,
behind
its
hill
,
twenty
miles
away
,
lay
Nauplia
.
And
I
dreamt
a
sleek
white
yacht
riding
in
the
silent
water
.
Wednesday
…
Wednesday
.
I
came
up
to
the
gate
,
waited
a
few
moments
to
listen
,
heard
nothing
,
and
went
off
the
track
through
the
trees
to
where
I
could
see
the
house
.
It
lay
in
silence
,
black
against
the
last
lavender
light
from
the
west
;
there
was
one
light
on
,
in
the
music
room
.
The
scops
owl
called
from
somewhere
nearby
.
As
I
returned
to
the
gate
a
small
black
shape
slipped
overhead
and
dipped
towards
the
sea
between
the
trees
.
Conchis
,
perhaps
;
the
wizard
as
owl
.
I
came
out
onto
the
edge
of
the
beach
at
Moutsa
;
the
beach
dark
,
the
water
dim
,
the
very
faintest
night
lap
.
She
stood
,
pale
ghost
,
from
the
chapel
wall
as
soon
as
I
appeared
through
the
trees
;
a
pale
ivory
skirt
with
a
green
hem
,
a
white
blouse
under
a
loose
long
Virginia
Woolf
-
like
cardigan
garment
of
the
same
—
almost
,
in
that
light
,
black
—
dark
green
.
She
held
up
her
wrist
with
the
sleeve
pushed
back
.
But
I
hardly
glanced
at
the
scar
and
we
took
each
other
’
s
hands
.
A
moment
,
suddenly
shy
.
Then
she
came
into
my
arms
,
and
we
kissed
;
she
turned
her
head
away
almost
at
once
but
let
me
hold
her
close
.
It
was
strange
;
physical
privileges
so
small
that
I
had
taken
them
with
so
many
other
girls
for
granted
—
granted
to
the
point
of
not
even
realizing
they
existed
—
seemed
with
her
things
one
was
lucky
to
have
.
"
I
thought
you
weren
’
t
coming
.
"
"
I
thought
you
wouldn
’
t
be
here
.
"
"
Have
you
missed
me
?
"
I
kissed
the
top
of
her
head
:
a
melony
perfume
in
the
hair
.
"
Where
have
you
been
?
"
"
On
Maurice
’
s
yacht
.
At
Nauplia
.
"
"
Is
he
here
?
"
She
nodded
.
"
And
the
Negro
?
"
"
Somewhere
.
"
"
Watching
us
?
"
"
I
said
I
didn
’
t
want
him
watching
me
all
the
time
.
Maurice
says
he
won
’
t
.
But
I
don
’
t
know
.
"
She
felt
in
her
cardigan
pocket
.
"
He
’
s
given
me
his
whistle
.
To
blow
if
I
need
help
.
"
"
High
opinion
of
me
.
"
"
It
’
s
his
same
old
trick
.
"
We
began
to
walk
towards
the
sea
.
After
a
moment
I
put
my
arm
round
her
shoulders
.
"
How
long
?
"
"
Till
eleven
.
"
"
By
the
way
.
Those
names
.
Tsimbou
and
Papaioannou
.
Unknown
.
"
She
nodded
.
"
We
guessed
.
"
We
began
to
walk
along
the
edge
of
the
trees
between
the
water
and
the
forest
.
"
I
asked
one
of
the
teachers
of
demotic
about
Three
Hearts
.
It
seems
it
is
a
sort
of
modern
Greek
classic
.
But
he
hadn
’
t
heard
they
were
making
a
film
.
Obviously
.
"
She
was
silent
.
"
Tell
me
what
you
’
ve
been
doing
.
"
"
Maurice
has
been
alway
.
He
sent
us
on
a
cruise
.
Down
to
a
place
called
Kyparissi
.
It
was
nice
.
Except
that
we
have
to
keep
out
of
the
sun
all
the
time
.
Under
the
awning
.
"
I
thought
of
my
own
two
days
:
catching
up
on
a
backlog
of
marking
,
a
prep
duty
,
the
smell
of
chalk
,
the
smell
of
boys
…
the
split
being
.
She
was
silent
again
.
"
Sometimes
I
feel
you
’
re
still
Lily
.
"
She
gave
a
little
downbreath
of
amusement
,
but
said
nothing
.
"
Julie
?
"
"
I
’
m
sorry
.
I
’
m
being
difficult
.
"
She
bowed
her
head
.
"
What
about
next
weekend
?
"
"
We
’
re
going
to
discuss
it
tomorrow
.
"
"
Here
?
"
"
No
.
We
’
re
going
back
to
Nauplia
tonight
.
"
"
What
does
June
think
about
it
all
?
"
"
She
wants
us
to
fly
home
.
"
"
Is
this
what
’
s
worrying
you
?
"
She
nodded
.
"
Where
’
s
June
now
?
"
"
At
the
house
.
She
says
you
obviously
don
’
t
care
what
risks
we
’
re
running
.
"
"
Because
of
you
.
"
"
And
me
because
of
you
.
"
I
pressed
her
shoulder
.
"
She
’
s
agreed
that
we
should
wait
till
next
weekend
.
"
The
last
peacock
-
blue
light
hung
in
the
west
,
over
the
black
headland
.
It
was
tropically
airless
.
She
stopped
for
a
moment
to
take
off
her
cardigan
coat
.
I
carried
it
over
my
free
arm
,
and
we
went
on
hand
in
hand
.
She
said
,
"
Whatever
happens
June
won
’
t
play
that
part
.
I
think
Maurice
knows
she
won
’
t
.
"
"
Where
’
s
he
been
away
to
?
"
"
I
don
’
t
know
.
He
only
came
back
tonight
.
"
She
smiled
briefly
in
the
darkness
.
"
On
the
way
here
he
apologized
to
me
twice
mcre
.
Advice
.
About
keeping
you
at
arm
’
s
length
.
"
"
Which
you
apparently
take
.
"
We
walked
perhaps
another
five
steps
and
then
she
said
,
"
Please
kiss
me
.
"
She
turned
into
my
arms
.
Her
mouth
twisted
under
mine
in
a
nervous
need
to
shed
all
her
masks
,
real
and
imposed
.
When
we
separated
she
gave
me
one
of
those
slightly
sullen
under
-
the
-
eyebrows
looks
girls
one
has
just
aroused
seem
unable
to
repress
.
I
put
my
arm
round
her
shoulders
again
and
we
went
on
.
She
said
,
"
I
feel
so
desperate
for
Englishness
sometimes
.
For
knowing
where
you
are
with
things
.
"
"
I
know
.
"
"
Then
I
think
it
’
s
cowardly
.
It
’
s
part
of
growing
up
,
not
clinging
to
England
as
if
we
’
d
drown
if
we
ever
let
go
.
But
if
you
hadn
’
t
come
tonight
…
We
came
to
where
the
beach
curved
away
out
to
the
headland
.
I
led
her
a
little
way
into
the
trees
,
up
a
bill
,
and
then
sat
down
against
a
pine
and
made
her
curl
against
me
.
We
kissed
;
tender
-
mouthed
,
though
I
felt
too
excited
for
tenderness
.
She
let
me
undo
the
top
button
of
her
blouse
and
I
caressed
her
throat
,
her
shoulders
.
I
ran
my
hand
lower
over
a
silky
slip
—
her
breast
underneath
,
almost
naked
.
She
caught
my
wrist
then
,
holding
my
hand
still
,
where
it
was
.
"
Please
don
’
t
.
"
"
It
’
s
so
nice
.
"
"
Please
don
’
t
.
Not
because
it
isn
’
t
nice
.
"
Gently
,
firmly
she
pushed
my
hand
out
,
then
sat
up
;
then
stood
,
turned
,
buttoned
her
blouse
,
and
swiftly
knelt
beside
me
,
her
face
in
her
hands
,
elbows
on
her
knees
.
I
stroked
her
hair
.
"
I
’
m
not
using
you
.
"
"
I
know
you
aren
’
t
.
"
"
Your
body
’
s
so
pretty
.
It
’
s
meant
to
be
caressed
.
"
She
took
my
hand
and
kissed
it
;
then
let
herself
be
cradled
again
.
She
said
,
"
Talk
to
me
.
"
"
What
about
?
"
"
About
England
.
About
Oxford
,
about
anything
.
"
So
I
talked
;
and
she
was
touchingly
like
a
child
,
lying
there
with
her
eyes
closed
,
occasionally
asking
a
question
,
sometimes
saying
little
bits
about
herself
,
but
mainly
content
to
listen
.
The
sky
became
dark
.
I
kissed
her
once
or
twice
,
but
it
became
a
silent
closeness
,
a
lying
touching
,
in
which
time
soundlessly
hurtled
on
.
She
made
me
hold
my
wrist
so
that
she
could
see
the
dial
.
It
was
five
to
eleven
.
"
I
must
go
.
"
"
Just
a
few
minutes
more
.
"
"
I
shouldn
’
t
…
"
but
even
while
she
was
saying
it
her
arms
came
up
and
around
me
and
as
if
she
had
been
restraining
herself
all
evening
she
suddenly
began
to
kiss
me
with
passion
.
If
at
the
first
moment
it
seemed
a
degree
desperate
,
more
a
determination
than
a
desire
to
be
passionate
,
it
soon
became
real
.
The
kiss
went
on
and
on
,
our
positions
changed
,
so
that
she
was
lying
half
on
top
of
me
.
