Read Online Follow a Star by Christine Stovell - Free Book Online Page A

widening in alarm, several small boats reeling into the harbour to escape the gale were also being forced to take cover from a massive, top-of-the-range luxury yacht named
Valhalla
roaring in and rapidly running out of marina.
    On board the smaller yachts, once their owners knew they were out of danger, white faces lit up with ghoulish interest at the prospect of seeing several hundred thousand pounds’ worth of yacht smash into unyielding concrete. In contrast to open-mouthed spectators standing idly by, there was great activity on board
Valhalla
. Figures in expensive matching Henri Lloyd wet weather gear jumped about frantically flinging ropes over the side whilst their skipper barked expletives and steered straight at the pontoon.
    ‘Over here!’ bellowed Bill.
    May froze as he raced to catch a wildly thrown line then braced himself to take the impact of the still speeding yacht. ‘Let go!’ she screamed. If he didn’t drop the line now he would either be dragged between the yacht and the pontoon like a human fender or lose his fingers trying to hold the rope. ‘Please, Bill! Don’t be a hero!’
    Jerked out of their inertia by her cries, some of the men standing round sprang forward to help. There was a heart-stopping moment when their efforts seemed set to fail, but with the very tip of its nose about to be kissed by concrete, they managed to drag the line round a mooring cleat and
Valhalla
shuddered to a halt.
    The exhausted men sank to the ground and May made a beeline for Bill. ‘You idiot!’ she told him, taking his hands and turning them over to examine large weals across his palms. ‘Fancy putting yourself at risk like that for morons with more money than sense. They probably won’t even thank you for it!’
    ‘On the contrary, darling,’ came a breathy voice from behind her. ‘The skipper is very grateful to you for saving his new toy. And if the skipper is happy,
I’m
happy.’
    They looked up to find one of the expensively liveried crew next to them. Bill seemed about to brush aside any thanks until the bright red storm hood was drawn back to release a curtain of glossy mahogany-brown hair which made May even more self-conscious about her own unkempt locks. Wide blue eyes under sweeping lashes gave the other woman an air of innocence which was somewhat at odds with the predatory curve of her lips. She was also surprisingly strong as she elbowed May out the way. Evidently she had decided that Bill was weak with shock and needed reviving, since she proceeded with some very thorough mouth to mouth. Ooh! Bill would hate being shown up like that!
    ‘Thank you,’ she purred, releasing him at last.
    ‘The pleasure,’ said Bill, grinning from ear to ear, ‘was all mine.’
    ‘Paige!’ someone roared from the deck high above them. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing!’
    Glaring down at them, the skipper was not a pretty sight. With his grisly skull-like face topped with spiky yellow hair he had the look of a man who owns one nightclub too many.
    ‘Don’t talk to me like that, Thunder!’ Paige returned shrilly. ‘Can’t you see this poor man has been injured!’
    ‘What’s that, babe?’
    ‘Deaf as a post,’ she told May, shaking her head.
    ‘INJURED!’ she bellowed. ‘Looks positively ACTIONABLE to me!’
    ‘Nothing we can’t sort out over a few stiff ones I hope? Get him over here now.’
    The skipper’s neck retracted into the black offshore jacket that marked him out from his crew. He reminded May of a sporty tortoise. Did they head off to warmer places for the winter, she wondered, or did Paige paint his name on his back, pack him in straw and leave him in a box at the back of the garage? But, wait a minute, May screwed up her eyes to get a better look at the man on deck. Her heart sank as she realised she hadn’t misheard: the woman standing next to them really had called him Thunder. It was definitely time to make herself scarce.

Chapter Seven
    Bill couldn’t help