Follow a Stranger

In a flash of temper she retorted, “I look no stranger than

you do. I couldn’t make up my mind whether you were a girl

or a boy.”

He laughed and leapt up, in one supple movement. Bending

over her, he kissed her mouth before she was aware of his

intention.

She gasped, backing away.

“Give you three guesses,” he offered wickedly.

Bright pink, she said crossly, “Don’t ever do that again!”

“Go on,” teased Sam, “you know you loved it! I bet that was

the first time you were ever kissed!”

She bit her lip in fury. Brought up in an atmosphere of

luxurious reverence, she was not accustomed to boys like

Sam. She was as sheltered as a novice from a convent

school. Sam baffled, alarmed, fascinated her.

Over the following weeks she became a fixture in the

Caulfield home. She and Kate shopped together and Pallas

bought a number of new clothes, with an eye to surprising

Sam. Jeans, bright cotton sweaters, miniskirts and flared

trousers were added to her wardrobe week by week. The

neat, Paris-made suits and dresses were pushed aside. She

flowered out into vivid colours, wild designs, and heavy,

esoteric jewellery.

Sam whistled admiringly when she arrived one day in an

emerald green dress made of silky clinging material, which

ended way above her knees, revealing long brown legs. She

looked much younger, much prettier, more alive.

‘You’re quite a little dolly,” he complimented her, and

Kate, seeing her blush scarlet, suddenly wondered if she was

wise in allowing their friendship to develop. Her family