Follow a Stranger (3 page)

Then he looked at Sam. Pallas mumbled Sam’s name.

Kate was very proud of her brother as he came forward,

suddenly dignified, and shook hands. He did not allow the

older man to stare him out of countenance, but met his eyes

directly and frankly.

There was a brief silence, then Marc Lillitos said coldly,

“Wait for me in the car, Pallas. I want to have a word with

Miss Caulfield.”

She stumbled out of the room with the old sullen

uncertainty back in force. Kate felt a sting of anger against

this man.

Sam took Kate’s elbow. “Shall I stay, Sis?”

She was grateful for his offer of support, but shook her

head. “No, thank you.”

Sam met her eyes, grimaced and left the room.

Marc Lillitos looked at her, very slowly and carefully, as

though inspecting a loathsome slug found in his lettuce.

“I was surprised when I was informed that my sister was

at your house,” he began coolly. “I was horrified when I came

in here and saw her, looking like some hippie, apparently

kissing your brother. Have you any explanation of why you

have encouraged her to behave in this disgusting way, or

must I draw my own conclusions?”

Kate went scarlet. “Is it disgusting to dress like other

teenagers, to learn to dance, to enjoy herself?” She found it

hard to find the words to say what she wanted to say, under

the steely and contemptuous gaze of this man.

“You would like me to believe, I suppose, that her money

had nothing to do with it?” he asked coldly.

“Of course it didn’t! I was sorry for her!”

His lips twitched mirthlessly. “Sorry for her? Envied her,

you mean. Let me make some facts clear. Pallas is my ward.

Her money is tied up in a trust. If she married without my

consent she gets not a penny of that money. Do you

understand?”

A tidal wave of rage swept over her as she listened. She

drew a deep breath and launched into a flood of angry words.

“If you are implying that my brother might try to marry

her for her money then let me tell you a few facts about

him—he’s proud, hard-working and kind-hearted, and far too

busy trying to date much sexier girls to be aware of Pallas as

anything other than a kid sister. Like me, he was sorry for

her, as he would be for any girl who wears square, old-

fashioned clothes, has no fun and feels it would be better to

be dead. You’ve stifled Pallas all her life. You buy her safe,

dull, expensive clothes which she hates and which make her

look ridiculous to her own generation. You shut her away in

safe, dull, expensive schools rather than let her find out what

life is really like. I suppose you’ll take her away from

Cheddall now, and put her in another tidy little box where

she’ll die from lack of air.”

Her blue eyes shot flames at him. “Well, Mr. Lillitos, sir,

your money doesn’t interest us.” She curtsied exaggeratedly.

“Nothing about you interests us, Mr. Lillitos, sir. But next

time you look at Pallas remember she’s an ordinary teenager

of sixteen, not a nun, and think what you’re doing to her!”

She walked to the door and held it open, glaring at Sam, who

shot her a grin before vanishing down the hall. “Goodbye,

Mr. Lillitos. It may sound trite, but your money is just a

millstone round your sister’s neck. So give her a chance to

find out what sort of human being she really is, and stop

trying to force her into an iron mould marked Lillitos.”

He stared in total silence, as she spat out the last words,

then walked out of the room.

When he had gone she sat down on a chair, feeling her legs

giving way beneath her, and tried to stop herself trembling.

Now that her blind rage had faded, she was ashamed of

herself. He would certainly take Pallas away from Cheddall

after her outburst, and all the good they had tried to do

would be undone.

The thought of Pallas made her mouth go down at the

corners. Poor girl. No wonder she had lacked self-confidence,

always being reminded by Big Brother that men were only

interested in her money, never in herself. It would sap

anyone’s self-respect.

Sam came in, grinning, and hugged her. “You were

fantastic! I was proud of you! He came out of here like a jet-

propelled rocket. I bet no one ever told him a home truth

before in his luxury-padded life!”

“Oh, Sam,” she wailed, “but what have I done to Pallas? If

only I hadn’t lost my temper!”

Sam’s face fell. “I’d forgotten that angle. You reckon he’ll

take her away from the school?”

“I’d gamble my year’s salary on it!”

She did not sleep very well that night. She lay, taut and

anxious, mentally rehearsing an apology to Marc Lillitos, but

each time choking as she opened her mouth and saw, in her

mind’s eye, that arrogant dark face. After all, he had insulted

Sam! And she was not really sorry for anything she had said.

It had all been true. She just regretted having said it so force-

fully.

She thumped her pillow irritably. What a pity he had come

at that particular moment. She was certain neither Pallas

nor Sam were emotionally involved with each other. It was

just friendship. But to a man like Marc Lillitos a friendly hug

looked like moral depravity.

She arrived at Cheddall very early next day, anticipating a

summons to Miss Carter’s study. The Head would quite

rightly feel she had behaved very stupidly in her response to

the situation. She could have been more tactful. The trouble

was, thought Kate wryly, that although she had blonde hair,

she had inherited her redheaded father’s blazing temper. As

a child she had often had lectures from him on the subject, no

less stern because he fully understood her problem.

“I have a temper, too, Kate,” he used to say, “but one must

learn to control
it,
rather than let
it
control you.”

It was odd that Sam, who had his father’s hair, had been

by-passed by the family temper. He was a very good-natured

boy.

She waited all morning in suspense, but no summons

came. Her discreet enquiries in the staff-room told her that

Pallas was still at the school, and no one seemed aware of

any trouble concerning her.

Had Miss Carter persuaded her brother to leave her at

school? Or had he changed his mind last night, after all?

Puzzled, anxious and uneasy, Kate waited all day, but when

she left that afternoon she had still heard nothing.

As she turned out of the drive she heard a voice calling her

name, and looked round in surprise.

The sleek black car was drawn up at the kerb and Marc

Lillitos was leaning out of the window.

“I want a word with you,” he said brusquely. “Get in.”

Despite all her good intentions, she stiffened resentfully.

Who did he think he was? His tone was as arrogant as ever.

“I’m sorry,” she said coldly, “I’m in a hurry.”

His grey eyes were sardonic. “Then it will be quicker to go

by car,” he pointed out, opening the passenger door for her.

“I prefer to walk,” she said, turning away.

The door slammed and suddenly he was beside her, taking

her elbow in fingers which gripped painfully. “Don’t be

ridiculous! I want to talk to you.”

“Are you kidnapping me?” she asked, her eyes flashing.

“Let go of my arm—you’re hurting me! How dare you? Just

because you’re a millionaire it doesn’t give you the right to

order me around.”

He stared down at her, eyes amused. “What a little spitfire

you are, aren’t you?” he murmured. “Come, must I go down

on my knees to you before you will consent to get into the

car? Be reasonable, Miss Caulfield. Let me drive you home so

that we can talk quietly without causing a scene.”

She looked around and saw several passers-by halting,

watching them curiously. Very pink, feeling very silly, she

gave up the unequal struggle and allowed him to help her

into the car. He climbed in and silently started the engine.

Purring smoothly, the car moved away up the road.

“I wanted to apologise to you,” he said quietly, staring at

the road ahead.

She looked sideways at him. The long, arrogant profile was

turned towards her, the droop of the eyelids hiding the

expression of the hard eyes.

Since she did not reply, he shot her another of his amused

looks, one eyebrow quirked. “You want your pound of flesh

before you will relent, I see. Well, that is your privilege. Miss

Caulfield. I unreservedly apologise. I was quite wrong in my

accusations. I am very sorry for any hurt or offence I caused

you or your brother.”

She was too dumbfounded to speak yet, and he turned his

head again, smiling at her. At the charm of that smile she

felt a peculiar leap of the heart.

“Why have you changed your mind?” she asked huskily.

“I had a long talk with Miss Carter, who explained to me

how much she had to do with my sister’s visits to your home,

and, by the way, reinforced your comments about Pallas,

although more politely, I must add.”

She flushed. “I ... I’m sorry I was so rude. I lost my

temper.”

“So I observed,” he said blandly. “But I am grateful to you

for your kindness to my sister. You were very perceptive. I

should have realised what was wrong myself. The trouble is,

my mother has been in delicate health for a long time, and I

have been too busy to take much notice of Pallas. But I had a

long talk with her last night, after I had seen Miss Carter,

and I hope I shall do better in the future.”

“You mean to leave her at Cheddall, then?” she asked.

“Yes, I do. I cannot pretend to approve of the peculiar

clothes she now wears, or her new hairstyle. She looks just

like any untidy, long-haired student we get in Greece. But I

did appreciate what you said about letting her become a

normal adolescent, and I am prepared to put up with all this

for a while.” His smile was derisive. “I presume it will not

last too long? I cannot guarantee a long-term indulgence.”

She smiled back. “Oh, I think you can be sure that she’ll

grow out of it, eventually.”

His eyes mocked her. “That last word was intended to

frighten me, I think?”

Kate laughed. “Perhaps a little.”

“You think I need to be frightened?”

“Don’t we all need it, at some time or another? Pallas, at

the moment, needs to be part of the scene.”

He raised an enquiring eyebrow. “Translate that, please. I

am not au fait with current slang.”

“She needs to feel like every other person of her age—to be

accepted, to merge with her background. At school, of course,

she will wear school uniform, and she accepts that as normal.

Out of school she wants to dress like the other kids—and

that’s normal, too. It’s all a question of convention, although

you may not think so at first sight. Long hair, jeans and

bright colours
are
the teenage uniform.”

“So that what I took for a gesture of rebellion is, in fact,

sheep-like following of fashion?”

“Precisely,” Kate said, smiling. She looked round and

realised that they had been parked outside her home for

some time. “I must go, now. Goodbye, Mr. Lillitos.”

“Wait!” He reached across and held on to the door handle,

his face close to hers. She could see faint specks of yellow

around the black centres of his eyes. “I have something else I

wish to discuss with you, Miss Caulfield—another matter

concerning Pallas. Will you dine with me tonight?”

“I’m sorry,” she said politely, “I have another

engagement.”

He released the door and she opened it and got out.

He leant forward, smiling with that surprising charm. “I

am sure you can break your appointment just this once. I

leave for Greece tomorrow and I will not have another

chance to talk to you.”

“Well, I ...” she began, intending to refuse firmly.

“Good,” he broke in, before she had finished. “I’ll pick you

up at seven-thirty.”

The door slammed shut and before she could speak again,

the car had drawn silently away.

Kate stared after it, clenching her fists like a child. “Well!”

she exploded. “He’s the most insufferable, high-handed man

I ever met!”

She had had a date with Peter that night. They had intended

to see a local amateur production of
Carmen.
When she rang