Harper Fox Driftwood

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his eye caught Thomas s.
He blazed up again. Thomas saw once more his brilliant smile, the sea-green brightening
of his gaze. Involuntarily Thomas glanced over his shoulder surely this lovely reillumination
couldn t be for him but there was nobody else sitting on top of a truck around here, con-
sciously or otherwise making himself noticeable. Diffidently he raised a hand in greeting, and
saw Flynn touch the other man s arm and gesture towards him.
He dismounted from his perch, resisting the urge to tug his shirt straight or check in the
wing mirror that his hair had not performed its occasional trick of standing up in spikes across
his crown. This was, for God s sake, the most casual acquaintance imaginable thirty
minutes, ten of which they had both spent trying not to drown. Belle increased the pace of her
circling, then suddenly peeled off and, to Thomas s surprise, went confidently trotting down
between the line of cars to greet Flynn as he approached.
Thomas was so absurdly glad to see him that, for a moment, his voice wouldn t work. He
put out a hand awkwardly their introductions had already been made, but he could hardly go
up and embrace him, much as some idiotic part of him wanted to. Much as, strangely, Flynn
looked as if he would have liked to return the gesture. Both settled for a brief, fervent hand-
clasp. Hi, Thomas managed. He looked at Belle, now standing at Flynn s side as if she be-
longed to him, or vice versa. My dog seems to like you. Which is weird, because she doesn t
like anybody.
Flynn smiled. Great place for her to start with the bloke who tried to drown her master, I
mean. How are you?
Fine. How have you been? Automatically Thomas found himself glancing at the healing
scratches on Flynn s brow and cheek. No colds, or&
Flynn broke into laughter. Helplessly Thomas reflected that it was one of the nicest
sounds he d ever heard generous and natural as the sunlit wind. Fine, Dr. Thomas. How s
your shoulder? Any sign of rabies?
Thomas found that he was grinning back. It felt good to be resisted like this. Even the
healthiest and least self-centred of men seemed to feel the need to detail their little aches and
pains when asked how they were by the local GP, and he in turn would use his role in place
of conversation. No. Not yet, anyway. Look, Flynn, I m glad I saw you. I&
A shadow fell. Belle shifted and subtly turned herself round so that she was shielding both
Thomas and Flynn. For a wonder, she emitted a low growl, and Thomas took her firmly by the
collar as the six-foot Celt emerged from between two cars. My ancient enemy, he thought,
smiling at the lurid concept, and stepped forward as Flynn, who had for some reason gone a
little pale, said, Oh, hi, Rob. Robert Tremaine, this is Thomas Penrose, the doctor up at
Sankerris. My saviour from the other week.
The new arrival looked Thomas over. At first his expression did not indicate any particular
pleasure at the introduction or the idea of the rescue. He had a striking, raw-boned face on
which contempt would sit easily. Then he smiled, a wide bright flash only slightly marred by
predatory, overlarge teeth, and thrust out a hand. Ah, he greeted Thomas warmly. Flynn
told me what happened. Pleased to meet you. I owe you a great deal.
For a moment, Thomas tried to misunderstand him. Why, he didn t know. There was less
than no reason for the ache of disappointment trying to begin in him, the slight strained tight-
ness in his throat. What had he been thinking? Tremaine slung his arm around Flynn s
shoulders, drew him close in to his side and briefly ruffled his hair, and there was no room left
for confusion. No need, either, for this great strapping airman to be scent-marking his territory,
which was what it looked to Thomas for all the world like he was trying to do. What had Flynn
said to him? Or was this just a general warning display, put on for all passing males, however
unlikely they were as potential competition? Whatever was going on, poor Flynn looked morti-
fied. Time for some inane, normalising conversation. Thomas thought he could just about re-
member how to do that.
He shook Tremaine s hand briskly. Good to meet you too. That was quite a display up
there. You and Flynn are cracking pilots.
And somehow that was wrong. Perhaps his small talk was rustier than he d feared. Flynn s
pallor had deepened. Oh, he said, smiling sheepishly. Robert s the pilot, not me. I m just
crew. The tea bag.
Thomas frowned. The what?
Means we tie him to a rope end and dip him in the water, Tremaine clarified, giving Flynn
a squeeze. Flynn s the business end. Harder job by far.
Thomas could believe it. He d seen a couple of rescues, when he d gone out in the life-
boat to help with the survivors, and had wondered at the nerve of the men who got winched
down into the heaving waters, tied to their friends, their craft and their lives by one thin umbil-
ical. If Flynn was ashamed, he had no reason. He d never claimed to be a pilot.
Right, Thomas said, not certain how to go on. Well, it was an amazing sight. I&
Flynn smiled, visibly deciding to help him out. Wow. Did you come on purpose to see
us? He looked around, saw the camper van and grinned. Oh, no. You just couldn t escape.
No, I got parked in. But I did come to see you, actually. This was Thomas s chance. He
could have done without Robert s assessing grey gaze on him, but it couldn t be helped. I
wanted to say I was sorry for dropping off the parcel like that. I meant to give it back to you,
but
It s all right.
Not a reassurance a cutoff, a plea that he didn t go on. Thomas, never slow to pick up on
human distress cues, closed his mouth. Too late, of course. The grey eyes had acquired a
curious lupine sheen. In retrospect Thomas could see it had been tactless of him, trying to al-
lay his own anxieties like that Tremaine did not look like the kind of lover who would toler-
ate&
Hoi! Tremaine abruptly yelled, making Belle raise her hackles. He was looking off
between the parked cars. Following his gaze, Thomas saw a skinny teenager approaching
through the crowd, a pretty long-haired girlfriend hanging on one arm, the other stacked high
with secondhand books, CDs and a stuffed giraffe from the tombola stall. Yes, you, you in-
considerate little shit, Tremaine continued, as the poor lad noticed him. Do you realise
you re stopping a very busy doctor from reaching his patients? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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