Follow a Stranger (20 page)

ever noticing a thing around her. Pallas and Sam were

comfortable companions at that time. They asked little of

her, seemed hardly to notice the depression which was

making her silent and shadoweyed.

Jean-Paul’s grave company was equally peaceful. He

would sit for an hour without speaking to her, his smile

calm and reassuring when she made the effort to speak. It

was with him that she walked over the cliffs, swam and

played a slow game of tennis. He was, she sensed, as

inwardly troubled as she was, and as grateful for her

undemanding company.

Sam did once mention Peter to her, casually, with a

brotherly pat on the shoulder. “I can’t pretend to be sorry

you’ve given him the air, Sis—Peter’s a decent chap, but I

never thought he was for you. You want someone with a bit

more zing.”

She had smiled, briefly, without answering. Peter seemed

like someone from the distant past now. She never thought

of him, and Sam’s comment was an irrelevant intrusion into

the turmoil of her emotions.

The two Frenchwomen, Marie-Louise and Helene, grew

bored with Kianthos once Marc had gone, and two days

later took off in Marc’s plane, which had returned from

ferrying him to Athens.

Marie-Louise tried to persuade Jean-Paul to accompany

them on her last morning on the island.

Calmly finishing his rolls and cherry jam, her half--

brother shook his head. “I am enjoying myself,” he said.

His sister threw Kate a hard look. “Why do our men

always like to play with pretty blonde dollies?” she asked

Helene, her high voice insolent.

Since she had spoken in rapid French, she probably

thought Kate would not understand, but Kate’s French

although not perfect, was quite good enough for her to

comprehend this, and she flushed.

Jean-Paul laid down his knife, wiping his fingers slowly

on his napkin.
“
Ma chere soeur
,”
he said coldly, “
tais-toi
!”

The sharpness of the command to shut up made Marie-

Louise go rigid with fury, but she said nothing else, and

when she came down with Jake, later, her cases packed to

go, she said goodbye to Kate with forced politeness.

Jake struggled off, laden with cases. Marie-Louise kissed

Mrs. Lillitos, gave Jean-Paul a whispered comment about

not forgetting that Kate was ineligible, and departed in a

swirl of perfume.

Helene embraced her mother-in-law more naturally. “I

will see you again soon, Maman. I am sorry this has been

such a short visit. Next time I will come alone.”

Mrs. Lillitos touched her cheek gently. “You must marry

again, my dear, and bring your new husband to see me.

Paul would want you to be happy. No woman can go

through life alone, you know.”

Helene flushed and did not reply.

Kate wished she were going with them. She was aching

to leave the island before Marc returned.

“Kate, my dear,” his mother said quietly, “will you help

me back to my room?”

Reluctantly she obeyed. She had no wish to discuss Marc

with his mother, but she sensed that Mrs. Lillitos wished to

talk to her about something. But, she thought hopefully,

perhaps she is still worrying about Pallas.

Mrs. Lillitos sat down with a sigh of relief. “Ah, that is

much better. Kate, sit down near me. I want to talk to you.”

Kate drew up a chair and sat down, her hands folded in

her lap, her face under control.

Mrs. Lillitos smiled at her, dark eyes soft. “I have grown

very fond of you, child. You have a soothing gentle

presence—that is why it makes me sad to see you look so

pale and unhappy. Won’t you tell me what is wrong?”

Kate tried to laugh. “Nothing is wrong, madame. I am

enjoying my stay here very much. I like to see Pallas having

fun. She ...”

“Please!” The older woman held up a hand. “Do not try to

throw me off the track by talking of my daughter. It is you

for whom I am concerned. You look ill. I see that you no

longer wear your engagement ring, for instance.” The dark

eyes rested on her hands, then rose to search her face. “Is

this why you are so sad? I had gathered that it was you who

broke off the engagement and that you were relieved to do

so. Yet you look depressed and lonely. Why is this, Kate?”

“I ...” Kate broke off, catching her breath, then

went on after a moment, “I expect I have not yet recovered

from the attack of sunburn, madame. You have been so

kind to me since I arrived. Kianthos is a lovely place. How

could I not be happy here?”

Mrs. Lillitos sighed. “How reticent you English are—well, if

you will not discuss the matter with me, I cannot be ill-

mannered and press you. But remember, Kate, I am ready

to talk to you, to listen. And I am very fond of you.”

Kate flushed. “Thank you, madame. I ... I am fond of you,

too.” She stood up. “You look tired. Shall I call Sophia for

you?”

“No, no, I shall sleep later. But run along, by all means,

and enjoy your last days here, child. By the way, did Marc

tell you—we have decided to take Pallas away from

Cheddall?”

Kate was stunned. She halted, freezing on the spot. “No,”

she stammered. “No, I hadn’t heard. You ... you’re not

happy with the school? I thought ...”

“We are very happy with the school, but Marc has

decided that Pallas should study music in Paris. He feels

she would prefer the Paris Conservatoire to a London

school. She is to have special tuition until she is eighteen.”

Kate nodded. “I think that is an excellent idea. Pallas

will be delighted. Does she know yet? She’s said nothing to

me.”

Mrs. Lillitos shook her head. “No, we have not told her.

You can do that if you like. She will take the news better

from you. She is very fond of you, too, and I think she will

miss you.”

“I’ll certainly miss her,” Kate admitted.

Mrs. Lillitos smiled at her. “But perhaps, who knows, we

will be able to see something of you from time to time?” She

leaned back, closing her eyes.
“Au revoir, Cherie
.”

Kate went downstairs, feeling stunned. If Pallas left

Cheddall she would certainly never see Marc again. Had he

decided on this change of plan to spite her for refusing to let

him come to her room the night he left for Athens?

She found Pallas and Sam playing a strenuous game of

tennis, and watched them until Sam won. They wandered

towards her, flushed and panting.

“I am exhausted!” Pallas puffed, throwing herself down

on the grass.

Sam grinned at her. “Weakling! I could play another

game and still win!”

Pallas grimaced at him. “The conceit of him! Did you

hear that, Kate? Your brother is absolutely the most

conceited boy I ever met!” She aimed a lazy blow at his leg

with her racquet, not intending it to land. “Take that, you

scoundrel!”

Sam danced out of reach nimbly. “You’re just jealous,” he

observed loftily. “Women aren’t called the weaker sex for

nothing.”

Pallas howled at him, “Male chauvinist pig!”

“Language, language!” Sam teased.

Kate interposed lazily, “Children, children, don’t

squabble!”

The remark had the desired effect of silencing them both.

She looked from one to the other of them, smiling. Their

behaviour strongly confirmed her belief that there was no

romantic attachment between them. Only a brother-and-

sister relationship could explain the squabbling, the

rudeness, the teasing. They were too casual with each other

for anything else.

“I just had a chat with your mother, Pallas,” she said.

Pallas sat up, tossing back her long black hair. “Oh, yes?”

“She tells me that she has decided to send you to Paris to

study music.”

“Oh?” Pallas flushed. “When I am eighteen, I suppose,

instead of going to a London college of music?”

Kate shook her head. “No, not when you are eighteen.

Now. Right away.”

Pallas stared at her, eyes wide. “You mean ... instead of

going back to Cheddall?”

Kate nodded. “Yes. Are you pleased?”

Pallas gazed around, mouth open, eyes troubled. “ I ... do

not know. I prefer to concentrate on my music, of course.

You know I detest my other lessons. But ...” she looked at

Kate, smiling a little, “I shall miss you, Kate.” She grinned

at Sam. “And you, you conceited boy!”

Sam said seriously, “I’ll miss you too, Pallas. You must

write to us from Paris. Lucky you! Imagine ... Paris in the

summer! A lot better than Greyford, I can tell you.”

Pallas murmured, “Paris in the summer ...” Her eyes

were dreamy and far away.

Kate wondered if she were thinking about Jean-Paul. He

lived in Paris, she remembered. Was that why Marc was

sending his sister there? It would be just like him to have

thought out such a devious plan.

They went back to the house in a cheerful silence.

Watching Sam, Kate was convinced that her news had not

upset or worried him. He seemed sorry to be parting with

Pallas, but not unhappy.

Jean-Paul was sitting on the verandah. His grave

glance rested on Pallas, slight and cool in her white tennis

dress, her racquet swinging, her long brown legs moving

gracefully.

Kate saw a serious expression move over his face, then

he smiled politely, as if at a stranger.

“Good morning again! A good game?”

Pallas linked her arm in Sam’s, leaning against his

shoulder with an unusually demonstrative gesture.

“Wonderful!” she gushed.

Sam gave her a curious look, but said nothing.

When they had gone in Kate looked down at Jean-Paul’s

bent head. He was frowning slightly, his mouth drawn in

at the edges.

“That was for your benefit alone,” she said.

He jumped and looked up quickly. “I beg your pardon?”

he mumbled, flushing.

Kate smiled at him. “You heard what I said, Jean-Paul,”

she said dryly.

He shrugged. “I wish I could believe you, but I am

afraid I do not agree with your diagnosis. Pallas, it seems

to me, is far too interested in Sam. And after all, why not?

I like your brother, Kate. A nice boy.” He stood up, smiling

politely at her. “As pleasant as his sister. I am very glad to

have met you, Kate. It has made my stay here a charming

one, after all.”

“You make it sound so final,” Kate said, watching him.

“Are you leaving Kianthos soon?”

Very soon, I think. But I hope I will see you again, Kate.

Will you give me your address? If I am in England I might

call and see you, perhaps. Or would you object to that?”

“No, of course not, Jean-Paul. I should like to see you

again.” She wrote it for him on a piece of paper he found in

his pocket. “There you are!”

He put it carefully away. Pallas came out on to the

verandah and looked from one to the other of them, her face

still very flushed. Kate wondered if she imagined the hurt

look in the other girl’s dark eyes.

They flew back to England, as scheduled, but Pallas did not

go with them. She was to proceed to Paris with Jean-Paul, it

seemed. She did not seem to find the news unpleasant,

when her mother told her about the plan, although she did

give Kate an uncertain look. Kate deliberately avoided any

discussion of the subject. Pallas clearly wished to mention it

to her but Kate had decided that the less said the better.

If Pallas ever did marry Jean-Paul, she thought, it would

be much later than her family had at first intended. That

the girl had great fondness for him she no longer doubted.

She had watched her carefully and come to the conclusion

that Pallas was attracted to him, and valued his friendship.

She would probably learn to love him maturely as she grew

older. But there was plenty of time for that.

Arranged marriages might have worked well once upon a

time, but Pallas had a more modern life in front of her. She

would be working like a Trojan for the next five years, at

least, and would have no time for romance. It would be

much better to let her discover for herself whether she

wanted to marry Jean-Paul or not.

When they said goodbye, Pallas unexpectedly flung her

arms around Kate. “Goodbye, Kate. Thank you.”

Kate hugged her back. “I expect I’ll see you again some

day, Pallas. It’s been a wonderful holiday. I’m very grateful