The Magus - John Fowles [197]
He moved towards her. "_Catherine, tine maiheur nous est arriv� Queiquechose de tout a fait inattendu_." He took her elbow and led her aside; their backs to me, and a retreat into Greek. She nodded at what he was saying. She looked at me and gave an open-palmed gesture, whether of resignation or regret, I could not tell. I made a small smile of appreciation at her change. I felt obscurely guilty; a hit of a bull in a china shop; no poetry, again. Conchis watched her go back composedly towards her cottage, then turned to me. "Before Julie comes, I have much to say. First of all, I am not deceiving you about America. I must be there next week. I have meetings. Bourani will be shut from today." He looked at his watch. "And I shall be fetched at noon. I have a plane to catch in Athens. Now, money. There is... Patarescu. And other expenses." He produced a fat envelope from the briefcase. "Here is a small sum." He put it on the table. "I don't want it." "I insist. It is nothing. Ten million _drachmai_." I smiled; even allowing for Greek inflation, ten million was well over a hundred pounds. "I can't take it." He held out the envelope once more, but I shook my head very firmly. "There is one other thing, Nicholas. For purposes I will not go into now I told you only yesterday that I did not like you. This was merely to authenticate what will not now take place today. So permit me to say, at this unexpected last moment, that I have grown to like you very much. Will you believe me?" I said, "Of course." "Whatever may happen to you in your life, I beg you never to stop believing that of me." I bowed. He caught sight of something behind me, then glanced at his watch; things were carefully timed. "Ah. Here is Joe. All this was meant as a surprise. What we call a _d�ntoxication_." It was the Negro. He was strolling through the trees from the gulley, in an elegant dark tan suit. A pink shirt, a club tie. It was still a surprise, this mask-dropping, however much sharper Conchis had intended it to be. The Negro raised a hand as he saw us looking at him. The moustache had disappeared. Conchis went out in the sun to meet him, to stop the pretence again. They spoke a few words, I saw the Negro look up towards me. Then they both came back across the gravel. Conchis looked almost a dwarf, a dapper dwarf, beside him. Joe was about ten years older than I; a hard face, but a mobile and intelligent one. "Nicholas, this is Joe Harrison." "Hi." "Hello." My tone was so curt that he grinned and gave a little side glance at Conchis. He reached out a hand. "Sorry, friend. Just did what the book said." I took his hand, but I said, "With some conviction." "Man, I was born in Alabama. In that kind of play..." he gestured back, as if he had left his role in the trees. "I didn't mean that." "Okay." We exchanged a wary look. He pulled a pack of American cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one out for me, then he turned to Conchis. "Your bags?" Conchis said, "They're upstairs." "Fine." He glanced at me as I lit his cigarette, appeared to search for words, shrugged, smiled secretly and went indoors. More footsteps. Hermes appeared, carrying two more suitcases over the gravel down to the beach. "Maria" followed him, under the colonnade. She came to me holding out her hand. "_Sans rancune, j'esp�, monsieur_." Her accent was heavily Greek. I frogged a small grimace, and took her hand. "_Eh bien. Bonne chance_." Perhaps it had not been so difficult for her to play Maria; she was veil-eyed by nature. I watched her black back descend the path, sink out of sight. And at once, in the same place, Julie rose into sight, climbing up from the beach. Conchis said, "Let us pretend for a few moments." She was wearing a white linen suit, a navy-blue shirt, town shoes; and the shock of seeing her in contemporary clothes was the greatest of the three. She was walking quickly, lightly, in a way that made me realise I had never seen her move naturally before. She came across the gravel and I stared at her and she stared at me. Running up the steps, a glance at Conchis, she came,