Read Online An Ocean Apart by Robin Pilcher - Free Book Online Page B

quietly.” Reaching forward, he pressed the on/off button and pushed the present cassette into the player. As the fadeout of Martha Reeves and the Vandellas hissed through the speakers, David watched Toby steer a ball off the edge of his bat for two runs.
    â€œCome on, you fluky bastard,” he said under his breath, “one more like that and you’ve got your fifty!”
    As Rachel was tilting back another measure of champagne into her mouth, the muted, mellow guitar introduction filled every corner of the car. She suddenly sat upright, her body taut as she waited to hear the next bar. The instrumental gave way to the close harmony of the backing vocalists.
    â€œOh my God! It is! It’s Smokey Robinson and the Miracles!” She reached forward and turned the volume button full on. “Oh, David, this just has to be the most beautiful, sexy song that has ever been written!”
    The sound of the music was deafening within the small confines of the car, and instinctively David put his hand forward to turn it down, realizing that it could be no doubt heard by the players on all five of the cricket pitches.
    â€œI think that that’s just a bit lou——”
    â€œOh, please don’t touch it!” Rachel said, reaching out and catching his hand to stop him. “Oh, David, this is just too fantastic for words!” She pushed open the door and jumped out, leaving it wide open.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” he laughed.
    But Rachel never answered him. Taking another drink from the bottle, she kicked out each foot to rid herself of her shoes and began dancing on the grass, moving slowly but steadily away from the car towards the sight-screen. David watched her for a moment, then dragged his attention back to Toby, who by this time was becoming increasingly agitated at the speed of the bowling. It was then that it suddenly dawned on him what was about to happen.
    â€œOooooh, hell’s teeth!” he exclaimed out loud. He threw open his door and leaped out. “Rachel, you can’t—”
    He didn’t go any further. Suddenly the visual impact of the cricket game became a stark and uninteresting antithesis to the spectacle that he was now witnessing. He swallowed hard as he watched Rachel gradually approach the sight-screen, her movements liquid as she danced, her rhythm perfect, her body picking up every sensuous particle of the song, and he found himself transfixed by the combination of the words, the music, her beauty and her motion. She turned, mouthing the words of the song directly at him, using the bottle as a makeshift microphone, “So take a good look at my face, can’t you see the smi-ile, it’s out of place,” then again turned away from him, moving farther into the danger zone, gently swinging her hips and hands in complete symmetry and unison with the song.
    A shout from the cricket pitch broke David’s trance. He turned to look towards Toby’s game. Everyone was gawking in their direction—all except Toby, who stood at the crease, waving his hand and yelling something at him.
    â€œWhat?” David called back.
    â€œI — said — get — her — away — from — the — bloody — sight-screen,” Toby called out at the top of his voice. “She’s—a—bloody—distraction!”
    â€œYou can say that again,” David said to himself, and held up his hand in apology. He ran over to Rachel, who was now dancing directly in front of the huge white board.
    â€œI think you’d better move,” he said. “You’re right behind the bowler’s arm.”
    â€œNo, I’m not. I’m miles away from him,” she replied, continuing to dance, her voice now slightly fuzzy from the effects of the champagne.
    David swept back his hair and scratched at the back of his neck. “Listen, I don’t think we’re going to be very popular with Toby.”
    Rachel