Follow a Stranger

was a totally different girl from the one who had first visited

them. Today she wore bright yellow jeans, an orange sweater

with Mickey Mouse appliqued on the front, and an Egyptian

enamelled pendant which gave her an Oriental look.

They danced again, not touching each other, gyrating like

strange birds performing a ritual mating ceremony. Kate

watched, grinning. The veneer of maturity had been stripped

away from Pallas, leaving her a normal teenager.

When the music ended this time, Sam hugged Pallas, in a

friendly way. “Great, kid! You can really swing!”

And she, flushed and excited, threw her arms around him.

“Oh, Sam, do you think so?”

Kate heard the door open and glanced round, casually,

expecting to see her mother. But a tall man in the doorway,

his gaze fixed icily on the two in the middle of the room, who

were too absorbed in each other to have noticed him.

Kate recognised him. It was the man under whose car she

had almost committed suicide.

Then Pallas glanced over Sam’s shoulder, froze, and

dropped her arms as if they had suddenly developed

paralysis.

Sam turned and stared curiously at the intruder, who

stared back, his thick black brows meeting over his nose.

“Well, Pallas?” he asked coolly. “Aren’t you going to

introduce me to your ... friends?” The hesitation was

deliberate, and insulting.

A flash of intuition told Kate who this man was before

Pallas spoke, and she got up nervously.

He looked round, grey eyes hard, and studied her. Forcing

herself to look calm, she looked back, and saw a man of thirty