14
Lana circled around behind the house. She went in the back door.
She hurried along the passage—and entered Jason’s gun room. He had taken a couple of guns out with him—but a couple were still there, on the rack.
Lana reached out and took hold of a handgun.
She left the room and marched along the corridor, into the living room. She went out through the French windows, onto the veranda. She stood by the low wall, overlooking the lower level.
Below her, Jason was walking back toward the house, clutching a couple of dead wood pigeons. Lana slowly raised the gun—and aimed it straight at him.
Did she intend to kill Jason? Or just scare him?
I don’t know how conscious Lana was of what she was doing. She was so beaten up mentally, so destabilized. Perhaps an old, primitive instinct for survival had taken hold—a need to feel a weapon in her hands? If there had been an axe nearby, like Clytemnestra she might have seized that. As it was, she held a gun.
Go on, I thought, do it. Squeeze the trigger. Fire— But just then, Leo appeared on the lower level, walking to the pool. Lana immediately lowered the gun, hiding it behind her back.
Leo looked up and saw his mother. He waved. Lana forced a smile and waved back.
Woken from her trance, Lana turned and hurried back into the house. She went along the passage. But she didn’t return the gun. She kept walking, past the gun room, and took the handgun upstairs.
* * *
In her bedroom, Lana sat at her dressing table. She stared at herself in the mirror—with the gun in her hand. She felt rather frightened by what she saw.
Then, hearing the door open, she thrust the gun into the drawer. She glanced in the mirror and saw Agathi walk in, smiling.
“Hi. Is there anything you need?”
“No.” Lana shook her head.
“Any thoughts about dinner?”
“No. Maybe we’ll go out. I can’t think now.… I’m going to have a bath.”
“I’ll run it for you.”
“I can manage.”
Agathi nodded. She watched Lana for a moment. It was unlike Agathi to offer an unsolicited opinion. But she was about to make an exception.
“Lana. Are you—okay? You’re not, are you?”
Lana didn’t reply.
“We can leave right now—if you want.” Agathi gave Lana an encouraging smile. “Let me take you home.”
“Home?” Lana looked confused. “Where’s that?”
“London, of course.”
Lana shook her head. “London isn’t home.”
“Then where?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to do.”
She got up. She walked into the bathroom. She turned on the taps and ran her bath.
When she returned to the bedroom, a few minutes later, Agathi was no longer there. But she had left something behind.
The crystal pendant was there, on the dressing table, glinting in the sunlight.
Lana picked it up. She looked at it. She didn’t believe in magic; but she didn’t know what to believe in anymore. She dangled the pendant over her palm.
She stared at it, her lips moving—as she murmured a silent question.
Almost at once, the crystal began to twitch, jolt, dance in the air.
A tiny circular movement—that grew and grew, above her outstretched palm—wider, and higher … a circle, spinning in the air.
* * *
Outside the house, on the ground, a solitary leaf moved.
The leaf was lifted up into the air by an unseen force—spinning it in a circle. The circle grew bigger and wider, higher and higher … as the winds appeared …
And the fury began.
15
The fury was an apt name, I thought, given Kate’s mood.
She had been spoiling for a fight all through dinner at Yialos. Now that we were back at the house, she seemed intent on finding one.
I thought it best to keep out of her way. So I remained outside, by the French windows, smoking the joint. From that safe vantage point, I watched the drama unfold in the living room.
Kate was pouring herself another large whiskey. Jason went over to her. He stood there awkwardly and spoke in a low voice.
“You’ve had enough to drink.”
“This one is for you.” Kate thrust the tumblerful of whiskey at him. “Take it.”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t want it.”
“Why not? Go on, drink it.”
“No.”
“I think,” Lana said firmly, “we should all go to bed.” She stared at Kate for a moment; a warning look, if ever I saw one. And for a second, it looked like Kate might back down.