are a most unusual girl.”
Next morning the sky was a little overcast and Kate
decided to take the opportunity of sitting out on the
beach again, while the sun was not so hot. Pallas and
Sam walked down with her, carrying vast sun umbrellas,
beach balls and towels, and they spread themselves out
in luxury on the deserted sand of the little bay.
There was a pearly mist on the water, hiding the sun,
but there was no wind, and Kate stretched out on a
towel, gingerly lowering herself in case her back began to
hurt again.
Her peeling skin was well coated with the doctor’s
soothing lotion. She slipped sunglasses on and lay with
her face in the shade of a multi-hued umbrella, a plastic
air cushion under her shoulders.
The sea murmured soothingly, flinging white-capped
fingers upwards towards them, then falling back again in
little ripples, leaving the sand ribbed and pale.
Pallas was reading the life of Beethoven, Sam was
playing chess with himself and occasionally commenting
rudely on his own weak moves. Kate did nothing at all,
feeling her whole body limp and relaxed in the soft air.
She felt Pallas stiffening beside her, and looked up to
see Jean-Paul and Marc coming down the beach.
“You look very comfortable there,” Jean-Paul told
Kate, lowering himself beside her, “but should you be out
here in the sun so soon?”
She peered up at the sky. “The sun is still hidden in
cloud,” she pointed out. “I have to venture forth
sometimes, you know. I can’t live in a tunnel like a