Follow a Stranger (5 page)

going with Peter to this Anglo-Saxon burial site.”

“Peter was round this evening,” Sam said, irrelevantly.

“He wanted to borrow some glue. He made like a gundog

after a pheasant when I mentioned Kianthos—seems there’s

an early Mycenean temple there that has never been

properly excavated. The Lillitos family own the whole island

and they won’t let strangers land.”

“Typical!” exploded Kate. “What right do they have to

prevent people from seeing a thing like that, an important

historical site ...”

“Keep your wig on,” Sam advised with kindly superiority.

“You know, I bet if you mentioned this idea of going there for

Easter to Peter he’d jump at it. He would really love to see

that temple.”

She drew a quick breath. He was right. Peter would

certainly want to go there.

Sam yawned. “I’m off to bed now. Goodnight, Sis.”

When he had gone Kate sat staring at the charcoal

drawing he had made. It really was very like Marc Lillitos.

Some obscure, buried instinct warned her against seeing

too much of that man. They were like people from different

planets. Their lives had touched by chance, and he had

already had a disturbing effect upon her. Her life had been

running smoothly for the past year. She had buried the

yearning for a musical career, had settled down quietly at

home, teaching and planning her life with Peter. And now, in

one day, the smooth threads of her life were tangled and

knotted.

She picked up the pad and tore the sketch off, holding it

up to the light. The arrogant face seemed to smile at her.

Angrily she crunched it into a ball and flung it across the

room, then went up to bed.

She decided, guiltily, not to mention the projected visit to

Kianthos to Peter. She had never practised deceit before,

even by omission, and it upset her. But the thought of

spending two weeks with Marc Lillitos disturbed her even

more.

She was abstracted and dreamy at school next day. Even

Pallas, during her daily singing lesson, commented upon it,

teasingly. Kate was relieved to find the girl still friendly, and

decided that perhaps Marc had not spoken to her of his idea

for the holiday, after all.

When she reached home that evening she was in a more

cheerful mood. She flung her coat over its hook and walked

into the kitchen where, to her amazement, she found Peter

and Marc Lillitos seated at the kitchen table, eating hot

buttered scones.

There was something so odd about seeing Marc in that

homely setting that her lips twitched with unguarded

amusement, and, looking back at her, his grey eyes smiled in

response. She looked away at once, thinking that it was

irritating, the way he read her mind so easily.

“Hi, Kate!” Peter leaned back, offering his cheek, and she

bent and kissed him, deliberately, on his mouth. He looked

rather surprised, but accepted it calmly.

Mrs. Caulfield was getting another batch of scones out of

the oven and Kate exchanged a wry, enquiring glance with

her, but her mother only smiled and shook her head, as

though totally at a loss to explain the presence of the two

men.

Peter took another scone, and said, through a buttery

mouthful, “I’d be eternally grateful, Lillitos. I’ve wanted to

see that temple for years. I understand some of it is still

standing in situ.”

“Yes, it is partially restored,” Marc said calmly, his gaze on

Kate’s flushed and angry face.

“I can’t wait to see it,” Peter said excitedly. “I could map

out the general area of the site, then a full team could come

in and do the serious work. I wouldn’t disturb the site at all.

Just work around, determining the limits of the building, if I

could, and estimating the size of team needed for the job.”

“Then that is settled,” Marc said, still watching Kate with

bland amusement.

“Peter!” Kate began, in a quiet voice. “We’re going to

Sussex for Easter.”

He looked vaguely at her. “Oh, that doesn’t matter!

There’ll be plenty of other workers there. But Kianthos—

what a chance! I’ll be in on the ground floor with this one. I’ll

get in touch with various people tonight, get them interested

...”

“I think that that should wait,” said Marc firmly. “I would

prefer you to keep the whole thing to yourself until you’ve

seen the temple. Then we can discuss it in the light of what

you decide should be done.”

“Right,” said Peter amiably. “It might be better to have a

definite plan in hand.” He jumped up, wiping his buttery

fingers on his handkerchief. “I’ll be off now. I want to do

some research on the temple.” He offered Marc his hand.

“Thanks very much. I am really grateful for this chance.”

Kate looked at him, seething, and, suddenly noticing her

again, Peter lightly kissed her cheek. “See you, sweetie,” he

observed vaguely. Then he was gone, banging the front door

behind him.

Unable to trust herself to speak, Kate went into the

sitting-room where she flung herself down into a chair and

brooded furiously. She might have guessed that Marc Lillitos

would get his own way. She could cheerfully have strangled

Peter at that moment. All he thought of was broken pots and

ancient bones. He didn’t care that she was in emotional

danger from this tank masquerading as a man!

The door opened again, and the human tank came in, and

stood, watching her.

She glared at him. “Well, you’ve got what you wanted.

Now go away!”

He flipped his eyebrow. “Have I?” he retorted mockingly.

“Do you know what I want, I wonder?”

She did not stop to examine this question too closely, but

replied to it as though it were quite straightforward. “You

wanted us to come to Kianthos. We’re coming. You always

get what you want, I suppose?”

He grinned, his hands in his pockets lazily. “Quite often. I

am taking the night flight to Greece, but I will see you at

Kianthos in two weeks. Give my regards to Sam.” He smiled

again and left.

Kate walked restlessly round the familiar room, feeling

most unfamiliar to herself.

It was ridiculous to be so nervous about a fort night’s

holiday. She loved Peter, didn’t she? Of course she did. So

why should she be anxious about spending time with Marc

Lillitos?

I’m behaving irrationally, she told herself crossly The

truth is that I’ve been influenced by the aura of glamour

which surrounds him. He’s rich, good-looking, charming, and

I’ve never met anyone like him before. But those are surface

things. Underneath I’m still the same person. I still feel as I

always did about Peter.

She halted, staring out of the window. A blackbird was

singing his evening challenge from the top of the garden

shed The lilac trees were already showing fat green buds. It

would soon be full spring. Daffodils were breaking out of

their sheaths into frilly yellow under the hedge and there

was a flurry of pink blossom on the almond trees in the next

garden.

She looked out for a long time, her face absorbed. It was all

very real, very beautiful, very reassuring.

Of course I love Peter, she thought, with a surge of relief.

She thought of him with warmth. He was a darling—absent-

minded, thoughtless, vague—but basically kind and generous

if only one could penetrate the mists of antiquity which filled

his brain. He might not be dynamic or dangerously

attractive, but he was real. She knew him, understood him

and cared about him.

She swung on her heel and walked out of the room,

mentally snapping her fingers at Marc Lillitos.

As the plane landed on the small airfield at Kianthos Kate

peered nervously out of the window, wondering if Marc

were waiting for them, but there was no sign of him as

they climbed down into clear, cool sunlight.

She and Pallas had gone shopping together a few days

before they were due to leave, and had returned laden

with bags and parcels. Kate had felt guilty, squandering

money on clothes for herself, but her mother had firmly

insisted that she renew her wardrobe. “Think of yourself

for once,” she smiled, patting Kate’s cheek. “You’ve done

so much for us all since you started work. I don’t know

what I would have done without you. But it’s time you had

some really nice clothes.”

Kate had suggested she made what she needed, as she

normally did, but Mrs. Caulfield had shaken her head.

“No, dear. You may never have the chance of a holiday

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.

“How is my mother, Jake?” Pallas asked, leaning

forward.

The driver turned his head to smile reassuringly at her.

“Oh, she’s okay! Just dandy, Miss Pallas—you know she

always gets better in the spring!”

Pallas looked relieved and sat back with a sigh. The car

glided along the beach, on a winding road, and mounted

beneath dark cypress trees. Below them the airfield

spread out like a green handkerchief beside the beach, and

the air was filled with a fresh, salty tang.

“Is it far to your home?” Sam asked. He was rather

pale. Kate suspected that the flight had left him feeling a

little sick, but he had not mentioned it.

“A ten-minute drive,” Pallas told him. “Our house is at

the top of a cove, but we have to go up before we can reach

it, as the cliffs cut it off from the airfield. My brother

intended to build a large hotel near the airfield, but he

hasn’t got round to it yet. We don’t really want strangers

on Kianthos at all.” She was looking rather strained

herself, today, and Kate guessed that she was nervous

about the family reaction when she got home.

“Will it be just your mother and your brother who are

at home?” she asked her.

Pallas shrugged. “Perhaps, but then Helene might be

there—she often comes for Easter, with some friends. Or

Marc may have business friends of his at the villa. He

uses it often, you see, to put them into a good mood before

concluding a deal.”

“Nice work if you can get it,” Sam said, a little gruffly.

Pallas flushed and looked hurt, but Kate could see that

her brother was feeling worse with each minute of the

journey. His freckles stood out on his nose like micro-dots

under a microscope. His mouth was thinned and taut and

his cheeks white. She hoped he would not be sick before

they reached the villa.

But at that moment the car lurched downwards again,

throwing Peter against the door. He rubbed his forehead

resentfully, then bent to pick up the vast tome he had

been reading ever since they left London. Kate watched

him crossly. He had not spoken to any of them all