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feel afraid of him, or for Stephanie to be crying in such a heartbroken manner. He was only young, perhaps a little below average height and with a beautifully styled head of dark brown hair that fell forward over his forehead in a childlike cowlick. He was compactly built but not heavy, and his face was all angles; straight, thin-bridged nose, sharp cheekbones and a stubborn chin. She couldn't see his eyes clearly but his mouth was on the thin side, his complexion clear and pale. No, there was nothing frightening there, and his gloveless hands were held loosely at his sides without any hint of hostility. Yet she did feel afraid, and so obviously did Stephanie and Simon.
    While Stephanie continued to sob noisily, Simon remained by her side. His head was shaking spasmodically and he seemed to be having trouble with his speech because there were long, halting pauses between his words. Although frightened, Lisa was also intrigued. She slipped back to her room, grabbed the nearest pair of slacks and a sweater off the back of her chair and then walked calmly downstairs as though unaware of anything unusual.
    At the sound of her footsteps both Simon and Stephanie turned to look up at her. Stephanie's face was red and swollen with crying, but she managed to glare at Lisa with murderous rage. Simon on the other hand looked frightened; frightened not just for himself but also for her. He held up his right hand, gesturing for her to remain on the stairs, and she obeyed him instantly.
    It was only then that she looked straight at their visitor. He'd been studying the older couple disinterestedly, but when he lifted his eyes to her a spark stirred in them. She was horrified at the coldness of the eyes. There was nothing behind them. No hint of passion or flicker of intelligence—they were like an X-ray machine, totally impersonal, and all the more terrifying as a result.
    'What's the matter?' she asked nervously, aware that they were all looking at her as though she were in some way to blame for this strangely hostile scene.
    'Where were you last night?' demanded Stephanie, blowing her nose as she spoke.
    'I told you, at Sabrina's party.'
    'Sabrina didn't have a party,' said Simon wearily. 'We've checked with her parents.'
    Lisa glanced at their visitor. His eyes were moving from one to another of them without any visible emotion, yet she was quite sure that he was enjoying himself. She moistened her lips. 'I was with Toby Walker,' she admitted nervously. 'We were going on to a party but in the end we just listened to records and talked.'
    'I see.' There was total resignation in Simon's voice. She'd obviously confirmed something he'd either suspected or been told and all at once he lost interest in her, turning away and glancing at the visitor. Stephanie, however, launched herself towards the stairs, screaming at the top of her voice.
    'You stupid little tart! Do you realise what you've done? After all this time, after so much…'
    'Be quiet!' interrupted the visitor softly. To Lisa's amazement Stephanie obeyed him, walking back to stand by her husband, suddenly an old and defeated woman. ‘Let’s hope he was good!' For the first time there was a spark of animation in the stranger's voice. 'As a matter of fact, he was,' retorted Lisa, feeling more and more frightened but taking the initiative herself in an effort to push the terror away.
    'Compared with whom?' he asked gently.
    Her eyes met his and she realised that for some unknown reason he hated her. Not in the way that Stephanie hated her but enough to wish her dead. For one fleeting second it was all there in his face, before he dropped his eyes and she was left standing on the stairs feeling sick and cold.
    'She hasn't got anyone to compare him with,' said Simon quickly. 'I promise you she's… '
    'It isn't me who's interested. I don't care if she's fucked her way from here to Cornwall and back. I'm only here to tell you that as a result of last night, the generous oversight of