Kiss a Falling Star

by Barabara Elsborg

  “I could kill you, you bitch.” She slapped Ally so hard across the face her teeth rattled.

  Ally gasped and raised her hand to her cheek. This was turning into a very shitty day. Misunderstood by Caspar, misread by Sean and misjudged by Lina.

  Sean emerged from behind Ally. “Baby, baby, what’s the matter?”

  Ally somehow knew she wasn’t “baby”.

  Tears poured down Lina’s cheeks and Sean tugged her into his arms. Lina glared at Ally over his shoulder. If looks could kill, Ally suspected she’d shortly be lining up to collect wings—or horns and a tail. As it was, she merely felt bemused by the role-playing on both sides. Ally went back to the garage and collected the sleeping bag, battery-powered lantern and a few other things to make Geoff comfortable.

  When she got back to the tent, the pair had gone. Good.

  Ally zipped up the tent and sighed with relief that her friends were arriving that night and— Arrghh, I am so slow. Tom had asked her meet with him to give him advice on a booking for a hen party that included her. Ally allowed herself a little smile. She could make sure she didn’t have to climb any crags for a start.

  Back in the garage, she unpacked one of her cases and repacked it with clothes she’d need for two nights. Maybe Tom wouldn’t mind if she checked in earlier than the others. It served Caspar right if he came looking and couldn’t find her. Once he’d calmed down, he’d see how crazy he’d been.

  Rather than trail all the way through the village to find Tom wasn’t there, Ally switched on her laptop and huffed with relief when she could still log on to Finn’s wireless network. The garage was becoming a home away from home. A few moments later, she had Tom’s number. Ally packed her laptop in the case and called him.

  “Tom Morton,” he said.

  “Hi, it’s Ally.”

  “Oh hi.”

  “How are Neil and his wife?”

  “Doing okay. I spoke to Mary a little while ago. Neil’s conscious and stable.”

  Ally sighed. “That’s good. You know you wanted to meet me later?”

  He sighed. “You’re cancelling?”

  “Well no, but guess what? I’m one of the hen party you have arriving tonight.”

  Tom laughed. “You’re kidding?”

  “It’s my friend Kerry who’s getting married. I’m staying with them. I could bring my stuff over and we could talk now if you’re not busy.”

  “I’ll fetch you.”

  “No need. I could do with the walk. See you in a bit.”

  Ally didn’t want Tom to see that she was sleeping in the garage. She locked up and wheeled her case to the road. She hadn’t gone more than twenty yards before a car pulled up ahead of her.

  “Had enough of Wyndale already?” Rose asked through the open window.

  “Not quite. I’m staying at the adventure center for two nights. Hen party.”

  “Oh, Tom’s branching out. Want a lift?”

  Ally nodded. “Please.”

  Rose got out and opened the back door. “Trunk’s full of supplies. Put your case on the backseat.”

  Ally had hardly settled beside her before the questions started.

  “So what happened on the moor? I heard Neil’s in the hospital.”

  “Neil’s wife fell in a ravine and Neil had a heart attack. Caspar saved his life. Neil’s heart stopped and Caspar did CPR until the air ambulance arrived. Neil must be very glad now that I persuaded him to let Caspar train today.”

  Rose threw her a glance. “Trying to rehabilitate him? Hey, what happened to your face? Someone slapped you?”

  Ally’s hand slipped to her cheek. “Dumb rock.” Otherwise known as Lina. “And yes, why not rehabilitate him? This village has been judge, jury and executioner without knowing all the facts.” No wonder Caspar was so quick to think the worst of her, though that didn’t stop it from hurting.

  “Maybe you’re right. But some of it’s his own fault. Because he refused to talk about it, the story’s been put together piecemeal from umpteen sources.”

  “Maybe he wasn’t allowed to talk about it,” Ally said. “You know what I think? Caspar was a spy.”

  The car swerved as Rose laughed.

  “I’m serious,” Ally said. “Think about it. He worked for the Foreign Office. He’s been to Cambridge.”

  “And looks like James Bond?”

  “Absolutely. I think when he left his sister in that bar it was because he was—”

  “Spying?” Rose chuckled.

  “Yes. Meeting a contact. Maybe he saw someone he had to keep an eye on. One thing I know, Caspar loved his sister. No way would he have left her without good reason.”

  “You’ve got it bad,” Rose said.

  “Caspar’s the one who’s got it bad. Everyone treats him like dirt and he doesn’t deserve it.”

  Rose pulled into the parking lot at the adventure center. “Maybe that will change now. We all love Neil.”

  “I want everyone to love Caspar.” And I want him to love me. Maybe after he’d calmed down about the medal, they’d be okay again.

  Ally dragged her suitcase into the reception. Tom stood behind the desk. He gave her a broad smile and then raised his eyebrows at the large case.

  “Two days not two weeks,” he said.

  “The inflatable raft didn’t fit in my other bag.”

  Tom laughed. “Let me carry it for you.”

  Ally followed him up the stairs.

  “All the bedrooms are on this floor. The communal rooms are downstairs. I live on the third floor.”

  “Penthouse suite?”

  Tom smiled. “Spectacular views anyway. If I’m lucky, you’ll see them. Here you are.” He turned the key, opened the door of room seven and slipped the key into the lock on the other side. “Basic accommodation. Nothing like Stone Cottage.”

  But much better than the garage. “Thanks, Tom. I’ll unpack and come down so we can talk, shall I? Fifteen minutes?”

  “That’s fine. Tea or wine?”

  “A glass of wine would be lovely. Thanks.”

  “I’ll be in the lounge. Left of reception.”

  The shower was bliss. Ally ached after racing around most of the day. Pity the warm water didn’t ease the ache in her heart. No chasing Caspar. He had to come to her. Ally froze with a soapy hand over her heart. He would come, wouldn’t he? He’d realize he’d overreacted? He wouldn’t really think she was stealing the bloody medal? Oh fuck.

  * * * * *

  She found the lounge without making a wrong turn. Tom sat on a large, red couch facing a coffee table strewn with brochures and folders. Ally joined him and he handed her a glass of red wine.

  “Cheers,” Ally said, and clinked her glass against his. “So what sort of activities can you offer? Shopping with naked men, visit to a chocolate factory with naked men, makeup session with naked men?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I can arrange climbing, caving, angling, riding, cycling, walking, abseiling, rock scrambling, paragliding, mine exploration, weaseling—”

  “What the hell do you do with a weasel? Don’t they have sharp teeth?”

  Tom chuckled. “Doesn’t involve animals. You have to weasel your way through tunnels and tight spaces. It’s like caving but mostly aboveground.”

  “Sounds a bit like the London underground. Oh God, I have no idea what they’d like to do. How much can you fit in? Sure there are no naked men?”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter. Maybe three activities. The weather forecast’s good for tomorrow, so you can choose anything. Sal’s already arranged something for you all on Monday morning, I have no idea what, and they leave after lunch, so it’s just tomorrow I need to sort. I have to ring the guys who specialize in each activity and book them so I need to know now.”

  “I get to choose?”

  “Yep.”

  Ally took a gulp of wine. “Paragliding, weaseling and cycling.”

  “Sure?”

  “No.”

  Tom laughed.
“Well, that was painless.”

  “For you maybe. They’ll probably kill me when they find out what I’ve picked.”

  Tom made a few phone calls, fixed the timing of the activities and then leaned back on the couch and looked at her. “You and Caspar did well today.”

  “All I did was run around like a headless chicken, looking for a spot with phone reception. Caspar did the tricky stuff.”

  Tom swirled the wine in his glass. “Yeah, he’s tricky all right.”

  “Have you known him a long time?”

  “We were at school together for a while. My father was in the armed forces. When I was seven, I went to the same boarding school as Caspar. I stayed until I was eleven.”

  “Were you friends?”

  “Yeah, we were, but my dad died in a car accident and my mother came back here, so I went to the local school after that.”

  “I’m sorry about your father.”

  He shrugged but Ally could see pain in his eyes. “Your parents still alive?”

  “Depends which you mean. The ones who treated me like a daughter, loved me and cared about me for seven years? No, they died. I don’t know where my birth mother is and she never revealed the name of my birth father. I have no idea whether they’re alive or dead, and frankly, I don’t give a damn. Hard to care when they don’t. Though Caspar said—”

  Ally closed her mouth.

  “Caspar said what?”

  “Maybe my birth father doesn’t even know about me. Though I’m probably better off not knowing he’s some brain-addled drug addict living rough under a bridge.”

  “He might be the opposite.”

  Ally shook her head. “Nope. I’m not that lucky, and even if he were a happily married man with four lovely kids, it’s hardly fair if I turn up and wreck his world.” She swallowed a gulp of wine.

  “What about you and Caspar? Is there no hope for me? Shall I just shoot myself now?” Tom flashed her a resigned smile.

  “He’s not speaking to me at the moment because I did something stupid.”

  Tom straightened. “However stupid you were, I’d speak to you.”

  “You’re sweet, Tom—”

  “Please don’t say ‘but’, please don’t call me ‘sweet’.”

  “You’re not sweet to Caspar. I don’t like the fact that he has no friends here. Four years in an Albanian jail and he’s treated like a pariah. I can’t believe how everyone is against him.” Ally put down the glass of wine before she spilled it. Caspar might hate her now, but she still burned with the desire to defend him. “I suppose you’re like everyone else. You think it’s his fault his sister was abducted.”

  “He left her on her own in a bar. She had the mentality of a ten-year-old. She shouldn’t have even been in a place like that. He went off with some woman into the bathroom. He tell you that? He couldn’t turn down a quick fuck when it was offered and he’s not changed.”

  Indignation surged up Ally’s throat. “So, what would you have done if you’d seen a woman in danger? Someone who’d been feeding you with information to pass back to the British government.” Shit, was that going too far?

  Tom stared at her. “Is that what he told you?”

  “No. He wouldn’t tell me he was a spy, would he? Just like he couldn’t tell anyone else.”

  “What about the women and the drugs?”

  “Caspar doesn’t have an addictive personality. God, if he did, the way this village has treated him over the last year would have turned him to drugs or alcohol. He was set up. The one who set him up is dead. The one who might know the truth, the woman’s father, is in a position of power in our government. No way will he speak out. Caspar is trapped here. He has no money, no job and no friends.”

  Shit. Ally knew she’d said too much.

  “You’re not going to make me like him, Ally.”

  “Took a woman you fancied, did he?”

  She saw from Tom’s face she was right.

  “Looks like he’s taken two now,” Tom said.

  Ally sighed. “And I’m just one in a line, I know. I’m as self-destructive as Caspar when it comes to lust.”

  They looked up as gravel crunched outside and a vehicle pulled up.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ally’s friends rushed in, squealed when they saw her and enveloped her in a huge group hug. Ally smiled a greeting to Geoff, who moved back and forth, bringing in their bags.

  “Are you really okay?” Sal asked after they’d bombarded her with questions.

  Ally nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “You actually think it was a deliberate push?” Delia asked.

  Yes. “Probably not.” Ally didn’t want to dampen the mood.

  “You know you could have made a fortune,” Jen said. “The Metro was desperate to identify you.”

  “What’s she done?” Tom asked.

  Ally spoke quickly. “Tom, this is Sal, Ms. Super-organized. The blonde is Jen, Ms. Super-sporty. On her right is Delia, Ms. Takes-two-hours-to-do-her-hair, and next to her is Kerry—the lucky bride-to-be.” She pointed across the room. That’s Bryony, the lawyer-so-watch-your-step, and behind her is Emma, Ms. Excitable. The pack horse is Geoff, Emma’s boyfriend.”

  “Pleased to meet you all.” Tom shook their hands. “If you want to grab your bags, I’ll show you your rooms.”

  “I might as well help.” Geoff picked up a couple of suitcases.

  While she was on her own, Ally browsed through the brochures Tom had left out. She jumped when Geoff hugged her from behind.

  He rubbed her head with his knuckles. “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Emma said you told her someone pushed you under the train.”

  “You know what it’s like on the tube at rush hour. Mayhem, bedlam and anarchy. How was the journey?”

  “Mayhem, bedlam and anarchy. I have no idea why I volunteered to drive six hyperactive, overexcited females with attention deficit disorder and champagne on a hen party. I must have been mad.”

  “Or a saint.”

  Geoff laughed. “So where’s my tent and is there a pub next door?”

  “Almost. Go to the other end of the village, past the pub, keep going up the hill and you come to new development on the right—no left-hand side. Five houses. On the far right, I think, there’s a bank leading up to a wood. Tent’s at the top of the bank. I’ve put a sleeping bag inside and a light.”

  “Bathroom?”

  “There’s one down the hall,” Tom said from behind them.

  “Geoff’s going to be sleeping in a tent. He was asking where he could floss.”

  “You can use the facilities here.”

  “Thanks,” Geoff said.

  “You’re wanted upstairs,” Tom said to Ally. “They’re plotting something. I’ve been commanded to speak to the chef. They reckon they’re starving.”

  “They need something to mop up the alcohol before they begin drinking again,” Geoff said. “I’ll be off. See you later.”

  “’Bye, Geoff.”

  The moment Ally turned, Tom was in her face. “Why does the Metro want to identify you?”

  No point lying. There were six voices upstairs ready to contradict her.

  “I fell in front of an underground train.”

  Tom gaped at her. “It missed you?”

  “Sadly no. Ripped off my right leg, left hand and I bled to death on the tracks.”

  “Christ, Ally. You fell or were you pushed?”

  “The platform was crowded. Everyone was pushing.” True, but Ally still felt those hands in the middle of her back. “I’d better go up and see what horrors are in store for tonight.”

  “Take these with you. It’s the itinerary for tomorrow.”

  “Er…maybe it’d better be a surprise. What time do we need to be down here ready to go?”

  “Eight.”

  “That’s enough bad news for one night.”

  Ally made her way upstairs. She wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn�
�t told the truth about being pushed. Partly because she wanted to forget it had happened and partly because she thought they wouldn’t believe her. Caspar did and that was all that mattered.

  * * * * *

  Caspar stood at the foot of The Screaming Buttress, graded very severe. The gritstone pinnacle took on an ethereal glow in the late afternoon sun, though Caspar was the only one there to witness its glory. Late in the day to begin this particular climb, but he wanted to fill his mind with nothing but the challenge of the rock. The descent was by abseil from a metal chain, so provided he climbed fast, he’d be down before sunset.

  Total concentration was essential because if Caspar missed the last tricky move, he’d be lucky if he lived to hear the helicopter needed to take him to hospital. And since there was no one around to watch him fall, he’d probably die of hypothermia if the fall didn’t kill him. Maybe it’d be a good thing if the fall did kill him.

  The climb was a mixture of good holds and the requirement to jam his hands into slender cracks. He headed left and started up the slab, sliding his fingers over the rock face to the first ledge. Caspar settled into the rhythm of the climb and for a few minutes made steady progress. His feet didn’t slip, but his mind did.

  Had Ally intended to sell the medal?But she wasn’t stupid. His grandfather’s name was inscribed on it. No way would she have gotten away with it. So, had she taken it because she felt sorry for him? He’d been upset when he came out of the shop. Had she assumed he didn’t want to sell it but had been desperate for the money?

  Caspar’s foot skidded off a ridge of rock and he slithered a few feet before he jammed his hand into a crack. His heart lurched. So much for total concentration.

  He tried to put himself in Ally’s position and think what he’d have done if he’d seen her selling some piece of jewelry that had belonged to her mother.

  Ah, damn it. He’d have done the same. Then he’d have dithered over how to give it back to her. Fuck. Why couldn’t he have listened, let her explain? Instead he’d turned into an iceberg and pushed her straight into the arms of Sean MacAlister.

  Which led to the root of Caspar’s fury.

  What were they doing in a tent? What right did Ally have to laugh after the way they’d parted?