Safe Harbour by Danielle Steel Page A

authorities and report you if you encourage her to come and see you again.”
    “You've made yourself quite clear,” he said, growing testy. In circumstances other than these, he would have said something harsher to her. She was being more than a little insulting, but he didn't want to upset Pip by being rude to her mother. And she deserved a little leeway given all she'd been through, but she had used almost all of it with her last words to him. No one had ever accused him of such vile motives. She was a very angry woman.
    She pointed down the beach to Pip then, as the child looked sorrowfully over her shoulder. There were tears brimming in her eyes that spilled onto her cheeks, and all Matt wanted to do was hug her, but he couldn't.
    “It's all right, Pip. I understand,” he said softly.
    “I'm sorry,” she said, nearly sobbing, as her mother continued to point, and even Mousse looked subdued, as though he sensed that something awkward had happened. And with that, Ophélie took Pip's hand in her own, and led her firmly back down the beach, as Matt watched them. His heart went out to the child he had so quickly grown attached to, and for an instant, he wanted to shake her mother. He could understand her concerns, but they were unwarranted, and it was so obvious that Pip needed someone to talk to. Her mother may not have eaten much in the past nine months, but it was Pip who was starving.
    He put his paints and drawing away then, and folded up his stool and easel, and with his head down and a grim expression, he walked back to his cottage to drop them off. Five minutes later, he was on his way to the lagoon to take his boat out for a sail. He knew he needed to get out on the water to clear his head. Sailing always did that for him, and had all his life.
    And on their way back to the part of the beach that belonged to the gated community, Ophélie interrogated her daughter. “Is that what you've been doing every time you disappear? How did you meet him?”
    “I just saw him drawing,” she said, still crying. “He's a good person. I know it.”
    “You don't know anything about him. He's a stranger. You don't know if what he told you is the truth. You know nothing. Did he ever ask you to go to his house?” her mother asked with a look of panic. The possibilities didn't even bear thinking.
    “Of course not. He wasn't trying to kill me. He taught me how to draw Mousse's back legs. That's all. And a boat once.” Killing her wasn't what Ophélie was worried about. She was an innocent child who could have easily been raped, kidnapped, or tortured. Once Pip trusted him, he could have done anything he wanted. The thought terrified her. And all of Pip's protests meant nothing to her. She was a child of eleven and didn't understand the potential dangers of befriending a strange man about whom she knew nothing.
    “I want you to stay away from him,” Ophélie said again. “I forbid you to leave the house without a grown-up. And if you don't understand that, we'll go back to the city.”
    “You were rude to my friend.” Pip was suddenly angry, not just heartbroken. She had lost so many people she cared about, and now she had lost this one as well. He was the only friend she'd made all summer, or in a very long time.
    “He's not your friend. He's a stranger. Don't forget that. And don't argue with me.” They walked the rest of the way in silence, and once back at the house, Ophélie sent Pip to her room and called Andrea. She sounded distraught as her friend listened. Andrea heard the whole story, and then asked questions, sounding like an attorney.
    “Are you going to call the police?”
    “I don't know. Should I? He looked fairly respectable. He was decently dressed, but that doesn't mean anything. He could be an ax murderer for all I know. Can I get a restraining order against him?”
    “You don't really have grounds to do that. He didn't threaten her, or molest her, or try to get her to go anywhere, did