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Authors: Hilda Pressley

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1972

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BOOK: Harbinger of Spring
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Within a few seconds she was speaking to Ted.


Ted, I

m terribly sorry. I

m going to be a bit late. I

m just leaving Norwich. I

m afraid I spent too much time sight-seeing.


That

s all right, Sara. So long as I know you

ll be back at the yard before dark. We don

t have any lights about, see.


Oh, I won

t be more than half an hour at the worst. Have I kept you waiting?


I was just beginning to look at the clock and wonder about you,

he said mildly.


I am really sorry. I promise it won

t happen again.


Well, I wouldn

t want you to think you were some kind of prisoner. In any case the road to the Mill will be open in a few days

time.


Will it? That

s good. Then I

ll see about getting my own car and stop being a nuisance to you.


You

re not that at all. Just take care of yourself.


I will. Thank you again.

Sara edged her way carefully back into the slowly moving traffic and in about a quarter of an hour she was free of the city and making a good pace towards Wroxham. The humpbacked bridge over the river there caused another slight delay and she noticed that the sky had become heavily overcast. Still, it was only six o

clock and she had only a few more miles to go now, so she should be home well before dark.

As she came to the open road beyond Wroxham she noticed that the steering seemed heavier, but thought little about it until on a left-hand curve she came dangerously close to the grass verge. She gave the appropriate signal and stopped. When she got out of the car she found her worst fears justified. The nearside front tyre was very soft. Stooping beside it, she heard the hiss of escaping air and a brief examination of the tyre showed her the head of a very large nail. Now she blessed the fact that she had once attended evening classes in elementary motor-car repairs.

Opening the boot, she hauled out the spare wheel, then the jack and wheel key. She checked the hand-brake, then put the jack in position and gave it just enough lift to make sure it was steady. Next she prised off the chrome-plated wheel disc and placed it upside down ready to receive the wheel nuts as she took them off. So far
everything was

by the book

and she could expect to complete the job in about fifteen minutes. The next thing was partly to slacken the wheel nuts before jacking it off the ground.

Sara put the key on the uppermost nut and pulled with all her strength, but the nut did not move. However, she had been warned about wheel nuts possibly tightened with garage equipment and tried a manoeuvre which called for some agility. She held the end of the key with her right hand and contorted herself to get her left foot to bear down on the key. Then she pushed hard with her foot. Exactly what happened she did not know, but suddenly the key shot into the long grass of the verge. Sara gave an impatient exclamation and went to where she thought the key had landed. She trod about for a few seconds, then took another step forward and only just stopped herself from slipping into a ditch.

She gave a little moan.

Oh no
!’

After ten minutes of searching, she was more or less certain the key had gone into the ditch. There was nothing else for it but to try to stop a passing motorist. She turned to the roadway and was a little surprised to find there was not a car in sight. A road which less than half an hour ago had been humming with traffic was now completely silent.

Another ten rather chilly minutes went by and it grew perceptibly darker. She switched on the car lights and stood at the rear of the vehicle. When a pair of headlights did at last come into view, the car flashed past her, in spite of her frantic signal. Sara felt almost like weeping, then she heard the sound of another car, but coming from the other direction, and before she could make a move to the front of her vehicle, it too passed her. But it made a U-tum and stopped behind her vehicle. As she went towards it a man stepped out. She recognized him instantly as the man with the camera and hesitated.
He spoke as if he had never met her before.


Something wrong
?’

Sara couldn

t help wishing it had been someone else. So much for her ordering him
off!
She forced a smile.


Thank you for turning back. I

ve got a puncture and I

ve lost the wheel nut key.

His dark eyebrows came together in obvious disapproval.


When you used it on a previous occasion, I presume?

Sara stopped herself from giving a sharp answer, but her smile disappeared.

As a matter of fact about a quarter of an hour ago. It flew out of my hand and went into the ditch, I think.


Bad luck. Just a moment and I

ll get mine.

He returned in a few seconds with a wheel key and a large torch which he handed to her without saying anything. She directed a beam of light while he worked and in less than ten minutes the wheel was changed and the gear stowed in the boot.


How far are you going?

he asked.


Barker

s boatyard. Do you know it
?


Quite well. I

ll tail behind you until you reach it. It

s possible for you to get another puncture, and with no spare wheel and no wheel key—


Thank you. Thank you very much.


It

s nothing. I

m going that way.

Sara started her engine and left the verge. It was still not really dark, but visibility was not ve
r
y good. She came near to the narrow lane leading to the boatyard and signalled her intention to turn into it. To her surprise the lights on the car behind her made a similar signal. Five minutes later she ran the car in the shed in the boatyard, switched off the engine and turned off the lights. She was fiddling to get the key in the lock of the car when a torch-light beam struck exactly in the right place to help her. She drew in a startled breath.

She was finding his presence quite a bit unnerving.


I remembered you didn

t seem to have a torch with you,

he said.

Whereabouts is your cruiser?


Cruiser? I haven

t one.

She laughed.

Surely you remember my crashing into your dinghy with a little launch
?


I do indeed, but since you

re not staying on a cruiser, you

d better let me drive you to wherever you
are
staying

or living.


That

s very kind of you, but it

s not possible. I

m staying at Fenchurch Mill.


Good heavens! I had no idea the place was occupied again.

He piloted her out of the shed and closed the door for her.

Your people must be getting very anxious about you and you

ve got me pretty worried now. If Ted Barker

s left out a craft of any kind, I can see you safely home. Let

s get you to your launch, then I

ll have a look around.

He took her by one arm.

You shouldn

t stay out until it

s dark like this before you get back. Your folks must be worried stiff by now.

Sara hid a smile. How old did he think she was? Sixteen
?
She supposed he must be nearly thirty. They reached the launch and he helped her into it. As she struggled into her lifejacket she looked up at him.


Don

t worry about trying to find another craft to go with me. I don

t think I can get lost and if I do happen to fall in I

m quite a good swimmer.

Obviously reassured, he nodded.

I

m pretty sure Barker will have everything locked up anyway. Quite a bit of pilfering goes on these days. But you must take my torch. You

ll have difficulty in finding your dyke without a light of some kind.

She thanked him.

Shall I leave it with
Mr.
Barker for you?


I

ll be on your part of the river tomorrow morning. I could call at the Mill and pick it up.

Sara hesitated for a moment, then said brightly,

I usually make coffee about eleven o

clock. I

ll expect you then. Goodnight, and thank you again.


Switch on an upstairs light when you get to the house,

he told her.

Then I

ll know you

re safely home. Otherwise I

ll have you on my conscience for the rest of the evening.

With this parting shot he left her. Sara took a deep breath, partly of amusement, partly of annoyance, and started the engine, moving into darkness that was like black velvet. The torch stabbed a long, narrow beam in front of her and gave her the impression of travelling through a tunnel. Once she glanced backwards but could see no sign of any light, and the loneliness of the place closed in upon her, sending a shiver up her spine. Even wearing a lifejacket, a tumble into the water now would be a very nasty and frightening experience. She knew from her previous trips that making a landing in the wild growth which grew along the banks would be difficult, and even when a landing was made there were no paths of any kind. This was a place where nature ruled and did not take kindly to the intrusion of human beings.

From time to time, Sara swept the right-hand bank with the beam of the torch, but even so she nearly went past the narrow entrance to the mill dyke. She reduced speed to a mere tick-over and brushed gently past the reeds until she saw the open water of the mill staithe. A minute later she was in the house and savouring its warmth as she ran up the stairs to switch on lights. She looked through her bedroom window and was just in time to see a distant pair of headlights make a wide sweep, then disappear.

She put out the light and went downstairs again to cook the evening meal. What a curious mixture of a man he was, she mused. She had never met anyone quite like him. He certainly wasn

t a bit like the image usually
conjured up by the term

bird watcher
.
Was he pursuing a hobby—or was he a professional ornithologist? Whatever his job, he was an odd mixture of Sir Galahad and Sir Jasper. Few motorists would have been gallant enough to want to see a girl safely home—even if they had mended the puncture. At the same time she guessed he was not the kind of man who would suffer fools gladly. He would not easily forgive a mistake which arose out of sheer carelessness, or lack of foresight, or not giving attention to the job in hand, which a smell of burning told her she was not doing at this moment.

BOOK: Harbinger of Spring
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