She stared from one to the other of them, frowning,
very pale and fragile in a black satin housecoat.
“Well?” she demanded. “What is the matter? Will
neither of you tell me?”
“I’m sorry. Mrs. Lillitos,” Kate said quietly. “It was
my fault, I’m afraid. Marc offended me and I insulted
him to ... to get my own back.” The words sounded
childish and stupid as she said them, and she flushed
hotly.
His mother threw up a protesting hand. “I am at a
loss for words! But I am too relieved to see you both to
be angry. Come, my son, kiss me!”
Marc obeyed, and she clung to him.
“I hope you were not too anxious, Mama,” he said
gently. “We were quite safe once we reached land, but I
had no means of letting you know.”
Sam tumbled down the stairs, dressed in a sweater
and jeans. “Glad to see you, Sis,” he muttered, hugging
her clumsily. “We began to think you were in Davy
Jones’s locker.” Then he threw a nervous look at Mrs.
Lillitos and bit his lip.
She held out a hand to Kate. “My dear, I hope your
holiday has not been totally ruined by such an
unpleasant accident. I am so sorry this happened.”
Kate smiled, shaking her head. “I’m pretty tough,
Mrs. Lillitos. I was frightened at the time, but I’m fine
now.”
“But there is a bruise on your forehead. How did that
happen? It looks very painful.”
“I’ll ring the doctor,” Marc said brusquely.