Strangers in Company Read Free Page B

but Marian could feel the rage seething in her as she refastened the belt. Trouble at school.… Trouble with authority? So what would happen when authority was represented by poor Mr. Cairnthorpe?
    But, surprisingly, Stella was laughing. “Don’t look so anxious! At least I didn’t
say
it.”
    â€œMy imagination’s boggling just the same.”
    â€œPoor Mrs. F.” Stella delved in her bag, produced a comb and began a rather slapdash attack on her shaggy hair. “Do you wish you were safe in bed in England?”
    â€œI certainly wish I was in bed.” The plane had stopped at last, and Marian turned resolutely from the thought of the cold little house, the twins’ bedrooms so empty, so unnaturally tidy. “I don’t much care where.”
    â€œThey’ve opened the doors,” said Mr. Cairnthorpe hopefully.
    â€œHave they?” Stella got out her compact. “Oh, God! My face!” She delved unsuccessfully in her bag for a while, her right shoulder hunched against her restless neighbour, finally producing a pair of tweezers and fastidiously removed one straggling hair from an eyebrow. “That’s better.” The compact again, for a long, considering look.
    Marian had had enough. “Well, I’m on my way.” She stood up, dropped Stella’s red coat in her lap, picked up her own brown one and small bag and inserted herself neatly in a gap in the queue. The twins, she thought, would have been amazed. And, equally amazing, Stella had got all her paraphernalia stowed away and was following close behind.
    â€œCruelty to children?” Her voice was at once mocking and, Marian thought, apologetic.
    â€œSomething like that.” Cairnthorpe, she saw, was pushing his way towards the other exit. So much for anyhope of him as an ally. But at least, she thought, he had the gumption to resent being baited.
    Outside, the dark, warm air smelled of pines. Stella drew a deep breath. “Retsina,” she said. “Delicious.”
    â€œYou’ve been here before?” Marian was surprised. Nothing Miss Oakland had said had suggested this.
    â€œLord, yes. On a cruise. With them. Ghastly, but I loved it. That’s why I held out for this, don’t you see? It takes you to all the places you don’t get to on a cruise.”
    â€œYes.” It made sense. And yet— “It’s funny,” she said. “I could have sworn Miss Oakland said.…”
    â€œOh, Miss Oakland! Why should she know? All she had to do was hire you, after all. Someone like you,” she amended.
    Marian laughed. “My lucky day. Look! It’s almost dawn.” The faintest suggestion of light in the sky emphasised the dark loom of mountains.
    â€œYes. We shan’t see the Acropolis floodlit after all. Have you ever been to Greece, Mrs. Frenche?”
    â€œNo. Never.” She had wanted to come for their honeymoon, but Mark had had an engagement at the last moment, too good a one to be missed, as all Mark’s engagements were, and Marian had found herself simply tagging along, allowed a slightly dubious recognition by Mark’s fan club. It should have warned her, she thought now, looking back on the whole disaster of that time. Too late, of course. Anyway, she had been blinded by the glamour of it all, by the illusory Mark she adored, and who said, when he had a moment to spare, that he adored her, too. “You’re my star,” he would say, with one of those butterfly kisses of his, and she was his slave.
    But they had reached the lighted terminal building, and the smell of pines was lost in the smell of airport. Following the crowd, they found the formalities blessedly swift. “One good thing about travelling at night,” said Stella, as they emerged on the other side of the controls. “They’re all too tired to search you for drugs.” And then, aware of Marian’s swift, anxious glance.