Then it struck him that he had not promised to meet her and, before Euan had spoken to him, he had not intended to meet her; so he still need not. As he had already reached the corner of Constitution Square, he halted in his tracks and pulled out his case to smoke a cigarette while considering this. His case was empty, but no one need look far in Athens for fresh supplies of cigarettes. A hundred or more kiosks are dotted about the broad pavements of the principal streets, and all appear to do a thriving trade in exactly similar stocks—newspapers, magazines, sweets, tobacco, souvenirs and secondhand paper-back books.
Having replenished his case, he lit up and drew hard on the cigarette. It was certain that, later in the day, Euan would quiz him about having taken a girl out to lunch. If he refused to say anything about it, Euan would jump to the conclusion that he had lied about having a 'date'. On the other hand, never having done such a thing, would his imagination enable him to talk as if he had? He feared it would not. In either case, the odds were that he would be found out and have laid himself open to Euan's scathing ridicule. Then, like it or not, he had to go through with it.
Two minutes later, he arrived outside Floca's. The de-luxe caf£ bad a long frontage with a row of tables outside and two entrances, one into a big sweet shop and another into a lofty room, holding another fifty or so tables. In the rear of the latter, a short flight of stairs led up through a balustrade to the restaurant, considered by Robbie, who was fond of good food, to be the best in Athens.
At this hour, nearly every table in the cafe was taken, but he had only to glance in the direction of the stairs to identify the girl. She was not looking his way; so he had a moment, as he approached, to study her without causing her embarrassment. Nine out of ten of the women in the cafe were brunettes, and the blondes were obviously foreigners. He had instinctively assumed that, being a Greek, she, too, would be a brunette, and she might have passed as one; but there were bronze lights in the mass of short curls on which was perched the little arrangement of blue veiling that passed for a hat. Her face was broad, with a strong chin that had a dimple in it. She had a short nose, a wide mouth and well-curved but rather thick eyebrows that were darker than her hair. Her skin was a golden brown, and such make-up as she was wearing was not sufficient to be obvious. Robbie knew little about women's clothes but, mingling as he did with wealthy women who came as guests to the Embassy, he realized instinctively that hers, though neat, were not expensive. It was only the hat and the big bunch of stephanotis pinned to her well-rounded bust that gave her the appearance of smartness.
When he was within a few feet of her table, she suddenly caught sight of him, said 'Mr. Grenn', smiled, stood up and held out her hand. As he smiled back and took her hand, he saw that she was shorter than he had expected. The mop of chestnut hair only just topped his shoulder. He saw too that, though she was sturdily built, all her curves were in the right places. She had turned up to him a pair of clear blue eyes that sparkled with vitality. Temporarily mesmerized by them, he quite forgot to let go her hand, until she gently withdrew it.
Suddenly embarrassed, and wishing to make amends for this gaffe, he blurted out: 'You said you were a fat girl, but I don't think so.'
She gave him a surprised stare, then burst out laughing. 'What a funny way to greet a new acquaintance.'
'I . . . I'm sorry,' he stammered. 'I didn't mean to be rude.'
'No, I'm sure you didn't. And it was nice to hear that you think that. All the same, I wish I could drop a kilo or two. I suppose if I gave up eating sweets I could, but I simply adore them.' After a rather awkward pause, she added: 'Shall we sit down?'
'Yes, let's,' he replied hastily. 'Er . . . what would you like to drink?'
'Nothing more for the moment, thanks. I've just had an orange squash.'
Robbie beckoned a passing waiter and ordered himself an ouzo, then he turned back to her. He had arrived determined to say at once that he had already engaged the 'battle-axe' but, recalling the desperation in her voice when she had telephoned him, he now dreaded to see tears start to those blue eyes, which were regarding him with such friendliness. Yet, strive as he would, he could think of no other way to open the conversation. Their silence lasted long enough for him to get quite hot under the collar before she broke it by saying:
1 don't know if you got my name over the telephone. It is Stephanie Stephanopoulos.'
He would have liked to say: Tt's a pretty as you are,' but didn't dare. Even so, it gave him a lead, and he asked: 'Are you related to the Foreign Minister?'
'Only distantly. He is a cousin of my father.' Her mouth suddenly assumed a hard line, then she went on: 'It is because of my father that I answered your advertisement. He is an absolute brute. He is treating me abominably.'
'Good Lord!' Robbie exclaimed, then, his chivalrous instincts aroused, his mouth tightened too. 'You don't mean . , . you can't mean that he actually beats you?'
She gave a sudden giggle. 'No, not quite that. Even the peasants here have given up using their belts on daughters of my age.'
'How old are you?' he asked impulsively, and next moment could have bitten out his tongue. But she only laughed.
'Really, Mr. Grenn! You are a forthright person. Still, if you want to know, I'm just turned twenty-four.'
'I . . . er, apologize for asking that. But in what way is your father brutal to you?'
As the waiter set down Robbie's ouzo on the table, she replied : 'For the past week, he has kept me locked up in an attic on bread and water.'
'No! Really! The swine! . . . Sorry! I didn't mean to be rude about your father, but . . .'
'Oh! but that's not the worst.' The blue eyes widened and looked straight into his. 'He has threatened that if I won't do what he wants me to, he will put me out on to the street. And I haven't got a room of my own. The only sort of job I could get would be as a hostess in a night-club, and you know what that means.'
Robbie could guess. Swiftly, he detached his glance from the blue eyes and, to hide his embarrassment, swallowed his ouzo in one gulp. He promptly choked.
Showing quick concern, Miss Stephanopoulos picked up the small glass of water that had been brought with his ouzo as a chaser, and pressed it on him.
With a nod of thanks, he took it and, when he had recovered, asked: 'But what is it your father wants you to do?'
'To marry a man I loathe the sight of. He's a cement manufacturer and as rich as Croesus. But he's twice my age, and Positively repulsive—like a great, fat, greasy slug.'
Robbie knew that, although the emancipation of women in the Balkans had made enormous strides since the Second World War, they were still far from having gained the complete freedom that Women enjoyed in the Western world and that, among the upper E 125
classes, many marriages were still arranged between parents, with scant reference to their daughters. With a shake of his head, he said: That's too bad. If he's as awful as you say, I can quite understand your digging in your toes.'
'I knew you would.' Her face lit up with a radiant smile. 'And now, I'm terribly hungry, so please give me some lunch.'
4Of course.' He came quickly to his feet. 'If you have been on bread and water for a week, you must be starving.'