She set one glass on a shelf and looked me slowly up and down. Her expression was part humour, part disgust. Her eyes were hard above her slight smirk..."Get cleaned up and come find me. I'll be in the kitchen", she said. Then she spun on her heel and disappeared, leaving just the faintest hint of her perfume on the air.Mrs Coleman was nearly my mother's age maybe mid to late thirties. She was a natural redhead, with the pale almost white skin of a northern woman. Like blood on snow, as a certain. "Pamela," Mary said, "come sit down next to me." I did, then... "Yourmother has told me what happened, that you feel responsible, and yourfather has threatened you." Looking at me with those green eyes of hers,"You look very nice, considering the day you've had, and while I don'tunderstand what's going on with you yet, but as long as you are here withme, I'll expect you to conduct yourself properly. Your mother also tellsme that you have been invited to a party tomorrow, so maybe you hadbetter. More

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