Follow a Stranger

like this again. Buy them.”

Kate was a competent needlewoman, but she had to

admit, as she gazed at diminutive bikinis and smart,

multi-hued trousers, that she could never have produced

anything half as professional.

Pallas was chattering to Sam, as they walked towards

the sleek black car which had come to meet them, and

Kate had time to look around her.

The airfield ran along beside the beach, the only

flat part of the island, as far as she could see. Above it rose

green hills and rugged crags of stone, their peaks swathed

in a lavender mist shot through with pink.

A man approached them, taking the bags from the

airport manager while saluting Pallas with a grin. The

airport manager slid away politely and began locking up

the one building visible, a small modern pavilion built of

wood.

“Hallo, Jake,” Pallas greeted the newcomer. “How are

you?”

“Fine, Miss Pallas, just fine.” He was a rugged Greek of

middle years, with swarthy skin and a broken nose which

gave him a slightly pugnacious expression. Stowing their

bags into the boot of the car, he helped Pallas into the

back.

All the details of the journey had been handled by the

Lillitos family. Kate felt quite dazed as she sat back on the

smooth upholstery of the limousine, next to Pallas, staring

out of the window. Everything had been so trouble-free

that she almost doubted that she had really left England.

Money certainly oiled the wheels when one was travelling.