She stretched her legs luxuriously, her gaze locked on mine as she stood. Her eyes betrayed neither fear nor defiance. Indeed, her expression seemed...to me more like mild curiosity, a satisfied predator idly eying next week’s meal. Her hand on her uninjured right hip, she looked me up and down and then regarded me steadily. I returned the favor.She looked to me to be about thirteen or fourteen summers. She was taller than average for her age with a body that was lean, fit, and tanned. Her. "A lot on my mind," I answer. "Problems at the office. I need to dosome work later."Silently she nods her consent."No one is watching this," Helen says, indicating the ball game on thewall, and ending the subject she says, "TV - news'.I watch her preparing pasta. She likes the effort of making it freshlyherself, rather than buy a packet from the store. Helen enjoys thedomesticity of these motherly tasks. At first it surprised me when thecollege girl who studied a Masters in biological. More

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