I stood up to say hello, curious about the man who stood towering above my mother. He turned politely to greet us, a smile forming on his lips, but when his eyes met mine he froze, and all trace of a smile disappeared. His eyes widened slightly, and his nostrils flared, and he looked both shocked and angry. I felt my face flush, and I looked at the floor, mumbling a greeting. My mother was calling for Mark again so she failed to see his expression. Joe had waved casually from his spot on the settee, and had turned his attention back to the television. I looked up at the stranger through my lashes, unsure of what it was that I had done to offend him. As I watched his expression seemed to change within seconds to benign watchfulness. I started wondering if I must have imagined the fury I had seen on his face.
Mark hurtled down the last few steps when he saw who was at the door.
"Hey, Angus!" he called out, covering the intervening space like a rowdy puppy. "How is the patient?"
The stranger smiled warmly at Mark, and held the carrier out for him to inspect its contents. "She's going to be fine. Had an operation this afternoon to stabilise the broken bones of her pelvis, but she's already starting to move her hind legs. She's a brave little thing." As if to corroborate his version of events, the kitten mewled from inside the carrier.
"Sit down, sit down," my mother gushed again. "Would you like some tea or coffee?"
The stranger appeared to consider the question for a second or two, glancing sideways at me, before answering. "Coffee would be lovely, thanks."
He stepped further into the room, and I was struck by his apparent size. He was probably about as tall as Joe, six foot and some change, but he seemed a lot bigger. He stood, tall and confident, radiating some sort of aura of power. I looked again at his face and was struck by the pallor and smooth evenness of his skin, the symmetrical regularity of his features, dark eyes, thick dark lashes and eyebrows. He looked back at me and I felt a thrilling tightening rush of sensation in my abdomen. I looked away, confused and embarrassed.
He handed the pet carrier with its small passenger to Mark, who took it gently, and placed it on the settee between him and Joe, bending over to look inside and speaking softly to the kitten inside. Joe seemed similarly fascinated, and I watched the two large teenagers speaking in soft high voices to the little cat. I chuckled. The picture seemed so incongruous. I risked another glance at the man called Angus. He was sitting at ease in an ancient leather armchair next to the television, with one arm draped sideways along the back of the chair, watching my face closely, and frowning slightly, as if he was concentrating on some hidden thought. I felt the hot blood racing up under the skin of my face, and I hurriedly turned back to watch Mark and Joe.