became her own fulfillment. On Saturday morning they set out, intending to pick Adam's mother up on the way, but they arrived at her home only to learn that she had decided not to attend the preliminary celebrations; but would go only to the actual wedding on the following day.
'So we're on our own?' Jill said when they were back in the car. 'You still want me with you?'
He slanted her a glance as he let in the clutch. 'Of course. What makes you ask?' His voice was overcrisp, as though her query annoyed him. Jill thought it might be that he'd misconstrued her question, believing that she would have preferred to be with Gilbert, which was certainly not so. On the contrary, she was eagerly and excitedly looking forward to a whole day with Adam, being glad, in one way, that her motherin-law had changed her mind about accompanying them.
'I ask because, originally, the idea of my coming with you was for your mother's benefit,' she offered at length. 'That was the original idea,' he agreed, but went on to point out that his wife would be expected to accompany him anyway. 'Many of the people there know me, and would consider it very strange indeed if I arrived without my wife.' She nodded, settling back in the car with the intention of making the most of the drive, which was initially along the coast road, with the Mediterranean spread out on their left in a gleaming, unrippled expanse of aquamarine that met the contrasting blue of a sapphire sky.
The sun was hot and fierce, setting the mountain summits aglow, lighting up the greys and duns of the gullies, filtering through the olive orchards that occupied the foothills. All was tranquil and exotic, with oleanders and hibiscus gleaming in the hedgerows, bright butterflies among their showy blossoms.
'Are you enjoying it?' Adam's deep, resonant voice was fringed with anxiety, and Jill wondered why. 'Yes, I'm enjoying it very much.'
After following the coast for a short while, Adam steered the car into a narrow road and they were soon winding their way through the tree-lined streets of neat cubic houses whose gardens overflowed with flowers-manna lilies and hollyhocks, scented star jasmines, marigolds and geraniums, and as many varieties of roses as would be found in any old-fashioned English garden. A dry, meandering watercourse could be located by the delicate pink and white oleanders lining its banks. Whiteness predominated, the quaint little houses gleaming in the Grecian sun, their bright blue shutters closed against the brittle fierceness of its midday heat. In one village that they passed through, a gigantic statue of Christ stood guard over the square where, in the cafeneion, a number of stocky, brown-faced men sprawled beside the pavement tables, drinking ouzo and playing tavli, while others stood behind their chairs and watched, twirling and clicking worry beads and smoking endless cigarettes. 'I can never understand why so many Greek men seem to be doing nothing with their time,' Jill commented when the village was being left behind. 'How do they make a living?' Her husband cast her a quizzical glance as he replied, 'Their wives do all the work. You must have seen them in the fields, or tending the goats and sheep on the hills?'
'Yes-but surely the men work as well?'
'The Greek peasants are still very primitive Jill, especially in the island villages where the influence of the West has not yet made itself felt. Women work while men idle their time away in the fashion you've just seen.'
'It makes my blood boil!'
He laughed as he slanted her a glance and her heart seemed to turn a somersault at the sheer attractiveness of him. He was something, this husband of hers, and it would be devastating for her when the time came for them to part. Today was now, though, and she intended to enjoy every minute of it, for Adam was hers and hers alone, and Julia was a nebulous figure dwelling somewhere a million miles away. 'If you were born to the life, Jill,' he said, 'you'd not
'So we're on our own?' Jill said when they were back in the car. 'You still want me with you?'
He slanted her a glance as he let in the clutch. 'Of course. What makes you ask?' His voice was overcrisp, as though her query annoyed him. Jill thought it might be that he'd misconstrued her question, believing that she would have preferred to be with Gilbert, which was certainly not so. On the contrary, she was eagerly and excitedly looking forward to a whole day with Adam, being glad, in one way, that her motherin-law had changed her mind about accompanying them.
'I ask because, originally, the idea of my coming with you was for your mother's benefit,' she offered at length. 'That was the original idea,' he agreed, but went on to point out that his wife would be expected to accompany him anyway. 'Many of the people there know me, and would consider it very strange indeed if I arrived without my wife.' She nodded, settling back in the car with the intention of making the most of the drive, which was initially along the coast road, with the Mediterranean spread out on their left in a gleaming, unrippled expanse of aquamarine that met the contrasting blue of a sapphire sky.
The sun was hot and fierce, setting the mountain summits aglow, lighting up the greys and duns of the gullies, filtering through the olive orchards that occupied the foothills. All was tranquil and exotic, with oleanders and hibiscus gleaming in the hedgerows, bright butterflies among their showy blossoms.
'Are you enjoying it?' Adam's deep, resonant voice was fringed with anxiety, and Jill wondered why. 'Yes, I'm enjoying it very much.'
After following the coast for a short while, Adam steered the car into a narrow road and they were soon winding their way through the tree-lined streets of neat cubic houses whose gardens overflowed with flowers-manna lilies and hollyhocks, scented star jasmines, marigolds and geraniums, and as many varieties of roses as would be found in any old-fashioned English garden. A dry, meandering watercourse could be located by the delicate pink and white oleanders lining its banks. Whiteness predominated, the quaint little houses gleaming in the Grecian sun, their bright blue shutters closed against the brittle fierceness of its midday heat. In one village that they passed through, a gigantic statue of Christ stood guard over the square where, in the cafeneion, a number of stocky, brown-faced men sprawled beside the pavement tables, drinking ouzo and playing tavli, while others stood behind their chairs and watched, twirling and clicking worry beads and smoking endless cigarettes. 'I can never understand why so many Greek men seem to be doing nothing with their time,' Jill commented when the village was being left behind. 'How do they make a living?' Her husband cast her a quizzical glance as he replied, 'Their wives do all the work. You must have seen them in the fields, or tending the goats and sheep on the hills?'
'Yes-but surely the men work as well?'
'The Greek peasants are still very primitive Jill, especially in the island villages where the influence of the West has not yet made itself felt. Women work while men idle their time away in the fashion you've just seen.'
'It makes my blood boil!'
He laughed as he slanted her a glance and her heart seemed to turn a somersault at the sheer attractiveness of him. He was something, this husband of hers, and it would be devastating for her when the time came for them to part. Today was now, though, and she intended to enjoy every minute of it, for Adam was hers and hers alone, and Julia was a nebulous figure dwelling somewhere a million miles away. 'If you were born to the life, Jill,' he said, 'you'd not
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