The Other Side of Midnight

"OK," he said ungraciously, irritated by the incident and by her tone.

"Help me pack up the things."

"Why don't we just leave them?" he asked.

"Because it would look suspicious."

Quickly they stuffed everything into the picnic hamper and started toward the house. Larry was silent for the rest of the afternoon. He sat in the library, his mind preoccupied, while Noelle worked in the kitchen.

Late in the afternoon she came into the library and sat at his feet. With her uncanny knack of reading his mind, she said. "Stop thinking about them."

"They were just a couple of goddamn villagers," Larry snapped. "I hate sneaking around like some kind of criminal." He looked at her and his voice changed. "I don't want to have to hide from anybody. I love you."

And Noelle knew that this time it was true. She thought of the years during which she had planned to destroy Larry and of the fierce pleasure she had taken in imagining his destruction: And yet the moment Noelle had seen Larry again she had known instantly that there was something deeper than hate still alive in her. When she had pushed him to the brink of death, forcing him to risk both their lives on that terrible flight to Amsterdam, it was as though she were testing his love for her in a wild defiance of fate. She had been with Larry in that cockpit, flying the plane with him, suffering with him, knowing that if he died they would die together, and he had saved them both. And when he had come to her room in Amsterdam and made love to her, her hatred and her love had become intermingled with their two bodies, and somehow time had expanded and contracted and they were back in their little hotel room in Paris and Larry was saying to her, "Let's get married; we'll find some little maire in the country," and the present and the past had exploded dazzlingly into one and Noelle knew then that they were timeless, had always been timeless, that nothing had really changed and that the depths of her hatred for Larry had come from the heights of her love. If she destroyed him she would be destroying herself, for she had given herself completely to him long ago and nothing could ever change that.

It seemed to Noelle that everything she had achieved in her life had been through her hatred. Her father's betrayal had molded and shaped her, annealed and hardened her, filled her with a hunger for vengeance that could be satisfied with nothing less than a kingdom of her own in which she was all-powerful, in which she could never be betrayed again, never be hurt. She had finally achieved that. And now she was ready to give it up for this man. Because she knew now that what she had always wanted was for Larry to need her, to love her. And, at last, he did. And that, finally, was her real kingdom.

NOELLE AND CATHERINE

Athens: 1946

18

For Larry and Noelle the next three months was one of those rare, idyllic periods when everything went right, a magic time of floating from one wonderful day to the next, with not the faintest cloud on the horizon. Larry spent his working hours doing what he loved to do, flying, and whenever he had time off he went to the villa in Rafina and spent a day or a weekend or a week with Noelle. In the beginning Larry had been afraid that the arrangement would become a millstone that would drag him down into the kind of domesticity that he loathed; but each time he saw Noelle, he became more enchanted and he began to look eagerly forward to the hours he would spend with her. When she had to cancel one weekend because of an unexpected trip with Demiris, Larry stayed alone at the villa, and he found himself angry and jealous, thinking about Noelle and Demiris together. When he saw Noelle the following week, she was surprised and pleased by his eagerness.

"You missed me," she said.

He nodded. "A lot."

"Good."

"How's Demiris?"

She hesitated a moment. "All right."

Larry noticed her hesitation. "What is it?"

"I was thinking of something you said."

"What?"

"You said you hated the feeling of sneaking around like a criminal. I hate it too. Every moment I was with Constantin, I wanted to be with you. I once told you, Larry, I want all of you. I meant it. I don't want to share you with anyone. I want you to marry me."

He stared at her in surprise, caught off guard.

Noelle was watching him. "Do you want to marry me?"

"You know I do. But how? You keep telling me what Demiris will do if he finds out about us."

She shook her head. "He won't find out. Not if we're clever and plan it properly. He doesn't own me, Larry. I'll leave him. There's nothing he can do about that. He has too much pride to try to stop me. A month or two later, you'll quit your job. We'll go away-somewhere, separately, perhaps to the United States. We can be married there. I have more money than we'll ever need. I'll buy you a charter airline, or a flying school or whatever you like."

He stood there listening to what she was saying, weighing what he would be giving up against what he would be gaining. And what would he be giving up? A lousy job as a pilot. The thought of owning his own planes sent a small thrill coursing through him. He'd have his own converted Mitchell. Or maybe the new DC-6 that had just come out. Four radial engines, eighty-five passengers. And Noelle, yes, he wanted Noelle. Jesus, what was he even hesitating about?

"What about my wife?" he asked.

"Tell her you want a divorce."

"I don't know if she'll give me one."