Kiss a Falling Star

by Barabara Elsborg

  She hit the ground. Hard.

  No I’m not.

  Tom gasped when he saw Ally veer off the road. He’d raced after her down the hill, but she’d pulled steadily away from him. He had to reduce his speed or he’d have been in the same sort of mess. Not hard to guess that her brakes had failed, but front and back? If anything happened to her, he was going to be in so much trouble.

  She flew into the air, and his heart jumped into his mouth. Tom skidded to a halt on the gravel. He threw his bike down and raced across to where Ally lay on her back in a bed of crushed bracken. When he saw her blink, Tom groaned in relief.

  “Don’t move. Don’t even try to move. I’m phoning for an ambulance.” He yanked his mobile from his pocket.

  “Wait,” Ally said. “I’m okay… I think. Any missing limbs?”

  Tom clutched his phone but hesitated. “Christ, Ally. What the hell happened?”

  “No bloody brakes.”

  A barrage of thoughts bombarded Tom’s head, not least of which was the worry Ally might sue him. The bikes were serviced regularly. She’d ridden the same bike for an hour before lunch with no problem. Both brakes? His gaze flickered toward where the bike lay.

  “Can you move your toes?” Tom asked.

  “Yes, and my fingers and my tongue.”

  “Does anything hurt?”

  Ally wriggled. “Not enough to make me yelp.” She levered herself into a sitting position. “Yelp.”

  “Steady.”

  “I think the bracken saved me. I flew straight into it. Oh God, I nearly—” She bit her lip.

  Tom knelt by her side and gave her a tentative hug. “It’s okay. Bloody hell, I thought you were racing after I’d told you not to. Then I figured there had to be something wrong when you didn’t wave to Caspar.”

  He felt Ally stiffen. “Caspar?”

  “He was in the convertible.” Shut up. “With some woman.” You bastard. “She looked familiar.” You complete bastard.

  “Oh.” Ally stood and Tom kept hold of her arm in case she collapsed. Easy for her to think she was okay when she wasn’t.

  “You all right, Ally?” Sal called.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine?” Tom whispered. “You sure? Which is your right hand?” He smiled when she lifted her left.

  “See? Body responds to brain. I’m just a bit shaken.”

  Tom watched her totter over to Sal, who gave her a hug. Then he went to the bike. One look and his lunch threatened to reappear. The brake cables had been cut. Christ Almighty. He sighed. Had she done this herself, a way of getting attention? He picked up the bike and carried it to the roadside. Everyone else had come to a halt and was fussing over Ally. If it was attention she wanted, she had plenty of it now. Tom caught Wes’ eye and they moved to one side.

  “What happened?” Wes asked.

  Tom pointed to the cut cables.

  Wes whistled his exhale. “Shhhiiit. You’ll have to call the police.”

  “What if she did it herself?”

  “Are you serious?”

  Tom looked back at her. She was laughing now and waving her arms in the air as if describing her flight, but there was a gray tinge to her face, a look of wariness in her eyes. Maybe she’d underestimated what would happen. Maybe she’d been telling the truth about someone trying to kill her. Tom shook his head. That was crazy.

  “I don’t know what the fuck happened,” Tom said.

  “How are we going to get her the rest of the way down?” Wes asked.

  “If you can carry her bike, I’ll take her. I’ll talk to her about the police. If she did it herself, she won’t want them involved. I don’t think we should say anything to the others. I don’t want to freak them out. The brakes were fine earlier.”

  Ally shuffled over, brushing greenery off her sweater. “Shall I start walking?”

  “Nope,” Tom said. “I’ll give you a lift.” Once Wes had mounted, Tom handed him Ally’s bike and called, “Okay, ladies. Off you go. Follow Wes down this time. Ally’s route was a little too scenic.”

  “How can two of us fit on that?” Ally asked.

  “You sit sideways on the luggage rack at the back and hold on to me.”

  Ally gave him a resigned look and perched her backside on the narrow rectangle. She wrapped her arms around Tom’s waist and his cock perked up. Not bloody now.

  She tightened her grip as he set off, but Tom took it very steady.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  She rested her helmet against the middle of his back and he could feel her shaking. Didn’t mean she wasn’t responsible.

  “Did someone do something to the brakes?” she asked.

  “They were cut.”

  She clutched him tighter. Pretending?

  “I thought Jack was joking when he made that quip about company secrets,” she said.

  Tom swallowed hard. “You think he’s behind this and all those incidents you told me about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you have to tell the police.”

  “I know.”

  * * * * *

  Caspar wasn’t surprised when Lina declined to go into the cavern once she discovered there were steep steps down and no elevator. When he looked at her shoes, Caspar saw her point.

  “Let’s go to Buxton and you can buy me a cream tea,” she said.

  “Don’t have my wallet.”

  “I’ll buy then.”

  Caspar pulled onto the Buxton road. He still had time to drive there and be back before Ally had finished for the day. Had she been in that line of cyclists they’d passed? Hard to tell when they were wearing helmets. No way she’d be that daredevil idiot in the lead.

  Lina checked her watch. Again.

  “Do you have somewhere you need to be?” he asked.

  “No, nowhere at all.” She gave him a sunny smile that smacked of a lie.

  Caspar turned onto the main road, thinking how much better a time he’d be having with Ally. Once her friends had gone back tonight, she’d be all his again.

  Another check of her watch and Lina turned to him. “Whereabouts are you in the line of succession?”

  Caspar tightened his grip on the wheel. “I have no idea.”

  “Really?”

  “Why would I be interested? The chances of me becoming king are nil.” Thank Christ.

  “Your wife would be called Lady Sanderson, wouldn’t she?”

  Caspar glanced across at her. “Don’t bother, Lina.”

  She pouted. “A girl can dream. Lady Lina. Sounds like a song.”

  “Sounds like a diet food.” He sniggered and she glared.

  “Oh look, park there.”

  “I can’t. Double yellow lines.”

  “No one will mind. I’ll pay the fine if they catch you.”

  “No.” Caspar kept driving until he spotted a car pulling out of a gap.

  “Good, we’re nearer here anyway,” Lina said.

  Nearer where?

  When Caspar came ’round to open the door for her, she was messing with her phone. Texting? She pushed it into her purse and stepped onto the pavement with a bright smile. Caspar didn’t object when she looped her arm through his, but he was glad Ally couldn’t see them.

  “This place looks okay,” Caspar said when they came to a small tea room.

  “No, let’s keep going.”

  At the end of the street Lina stopped and looked around with a puzzled expression. Caspar sighed. He wanted to dump her and drive back to Wyndale.

  “Over there.” Lina dragged him across the road.

  Caspar looked through the window of Eat Here. “There are no tables.”

  Lina grabbed his arm and tugged him inside. “Then we’ll wait.”

  Caspar felt relieved she didn’t order him to throw someone out. Not that he would. Moments after they walked in, a table became free and the waitress cleared it as Caspar sat down. Lina had gone to the bathroom. When she came back, he noticed
she’d combed her hair and touched up her makeup. He still wasn’t interested.

  “What can I get you?” the waitress asked. “Hey, aren’t you Lina Moon?”

  Lina smiled. “Yes.”

  “Oh God, you’re filming around here, aren’t you? I read about it. Is Sean MacAlister coming in too?”

  Lina’s smile slipped and Caspar bit his lip to stop his chuckle escaping.

  “We’d like tea for two and a selection of your cakes…please,” Lina said.

  “Can I have your autograph?”

  “Of course.”

  When the girl had left, clutching the signed order pad, Lina leaned forward. “Sorry about that. It’s such a pain being recognized everywhere I go.”

  Liar. Caspar watched as the word spread around the café and Lina slid into role. She gestured more, laughed louder. Even her conversation was staged. Caspar listened in amusement as she name-dropped stars like glittering confetti. He wondered who in the café apart from the waitress actually recognized her. But then, maybe he was doing her an injustice. She could be more famous than he thought. He’d been out of the country for so long and once he’d returned, he’d not watched TV or gone to the cinema.

  When the three-tiered cake stand arrived, laden with calories, Caspar wondered if Lina intended to eat any of them. Since she was paying, he’d ask for a box and take them back to share with Ally.

  “So,” Lina said. “You never did tell me, was it while you were at Cambridge that MI6 approached you.”

  Caspar didn’t answer but sighed mentally. After her comment in the car, he’d hoped she’d drop it.

  “You can tell me that surely,” she whispered.

  He filled his mouth with coconut cake and chewed.

  “I presume it was. They went after Jonno too but he said no. Why did they let you go to prison?” she asked.

  Caspar remained silent. It was better to say nothing and respond to nothing.

  “Are you still working for them?” She leaned in closer. “Do you have a gun?”

  The door of the café opened and two guys strolled in, one lifted a camera and started snapping pictures of Lina. Shit, and of me. Caspar turned his face away.

  Lina shuffled nearer to Caspar. “Oh no,” she whispered.

  Except he thought she meant “Oh yes.”

  “This way, Lina. With a piece of cake?” the man called.

  Lina gave a good-natured smile Caspar suspected she’d practiced in the mirror. She probably had a face to fit every occasion.

  “Hey, guys, don’t interrupt people’s meals.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder.

  “Pay and let’s leave,” Caspar said.

  Lina took twenty pounds from her purse and dropped it on the table. “’Bye, everyone.”

  She grabbed Caspar’s arm as he stalked off, the photographer bustling to get out of the way.

  “Who’s your friend?” the other guy shouted.

  “None of your business,” Lina said.

  That was a pleasant surprise. Caspar had expected her to—

  “Oh well,” she called over her shoulder. “You’ll find out anyway. Lord Sanderson. Caspar’s a viscount. His father’s the Earl of Lynham.”

  Shit, shit, shit.

  The pair pursued them all the way to the car, Lina clinging to him like a limpet. Caspar’s fury mounted. He was tempted to drive back alone and leave her here. Serve the bitch right.

  He slammed the door and started the engine while she waved and blew kisses to the photographer through the window.

  “What the fuck was that about?” he snapped once they were moving.

  “What?”

  “I’m not an imbecile. You deliberately staged that. Why?”

  “Because I like you.”

  Her hand crept onto his groin and rubbed. Caspar knocked it away. Even his cock was disgusted.

  “If you care about me, you wouldn’t have done it,” he said.

  “I don’t know why you’re mad at me. It’s your little schoolgirl who’s been telling everyone you were a spy.”

  A ball of lead settled in Caspar’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”

  Lina gave a heavy sigh. “One of the makeup crew came back from the village this morning and said someone had told her you used to be a spy and that your girlfriend had been bragging about it.”

  Shit. Was that true? Why would Ally say that? What the hell was she thinking?

  “Do you even know what happened over there?” Caspar asked as he overtook a lorry. Too fast, slow down.

  “Your sister died. You got caught in some scandal and went to prison.”

  “Right.”

  “I don’t care. Well, I care about your sister obviously, but I don’t mind that you went to prison. I rather like bad boys.”

  Caspar gripped the wheel so tight he thought he heard it crack. “Do me a favor,” he said. “Don’t open your mouth again until we get back.”

  * * * * *

  Ally emerged exhausted from Buxton police station into a foggy evening and climbed into a taxi. Tom had said he’d come for her, but Ally didn’t want to be a bother. Nor was she stupid. Tom thought she’d cut the cables herself, and that hurt.

  The police had arrested Jack on suspicion of attempted murder, fraud and arson. Ally had been shocked they’d do that so quickly, but the sergeant who’d interviewed her said they’d gather all the evidence, liaise with the force in London, and it would be up to the Criminal Prosecution Service to decide if there was a case to answer. Ally gulped when she heard Jack would probably be released that night on bail, but the sergeant said now that Jack was under suspicion, if anything happened to her, he’d be the one they’d come after. Not much comfort if she was dead.

  Apparently Tom, Wes and her friends had been questioned too when they got back from weaseling, but none of them had seen anything. Ally felt fairly certain that if she hadn’t told the police about Jack’s admission, that he’d set fire to his business, they would have dismissed the cut brakes in the way the other incidents had been dismissed.

  As the taxi carried her back to Wyndale through the gloom, Ally tried to call Caspar but he didn’t answer. Still with the woman Tom had mentioned? Lina? Ally sighed. She’d believed Caspar about the champagne but maybe her trust skewed by her attraction to him? Ally wasn’t sure she liked being this needy, but tonight she was scared and wanted Caspar to hold her.

  The driver dropped Ally at Caspar’s house. When she saw no lights, her heart sank. She paid the fare and got out. Ally called him on the phone, banged on the door and shouted through the letter box. Where the hell was he? With Lina? Ally shivered. She wanted to wait but it was too cold to hang around.

  She walked slowly down the road and unlocked the garage. Easier to stay here than return to the adventure center. Anyway, her friends would all be out on their speed-dating trip. She left the light on and lay down on a sun lounger in her coat, pulling her dressing gown over her legs. Laying her hand on her phone, Ally closed her eyes.

  And opened them again. When she’d been knocked off her bike in London, hadn’t Jack been in Barcelona? Her eyelids fluttered. Maybe that had been an accident.

  * * * * *

  How hard was it to kill someone? What had seemed straightforward was turning into a bloody nightmare. Ally cat must have nine lives, but she’d used up a bunch of them. How the hell had she walked away from that crash without injury? The plan had been a broken neck, instant death, but if not, at least hospitalization, which would leave her a sitting target. Easy to finish her off in the hospital with a syringe of air and blame medical negligence, except she hadn’t even broken a bone. Fuck it. Time was running out.

  * * * * *

  Caspar sprawled on his couch in the dark, staring at nothing. His phone lay by his side. Ally had called him three times, Lina once, his mother twice. He’d answered none of them. He had a call to make, but every time he reached for his phone, he withdrew his hand before he touched it. He needed to speak to Richard, his ex-b
oss in the Foreign Office, but after they’d last spoken and Caspar had lost his temper, he’d sworn never to contact him again. The fucking prick.

  The knock at the door made Caspar jump. He’d feared for a crazy moment that the man he needed to call had come in person, but when he heard Ally shout through the letter box, he sank back into the couch.

  Worst-case scenario—tomorrow’s papers had photos of him and Lina with some stupid headline like The Spy Who Loves Me together with an article raking up everything that had happened five years ago, including the detail on Deanna Mantel and her government minister father. Slightly less worse scenario—a picture of him and Lina looking like a couple.

  Caspar knew he ought to call Ally and give her a chance to explain why she’d told people he’d been a spy. He was so pissed off with her, he wasn’t sure he could speak without shouting. She’d disappointed him, and more than anyone else, he hadn’t wanted her to do that. She was his rock and she’d let him down.

  Ally had been incensed by the vicar’s wife blurting he’d been in prison, and yet wasn’t bragging Caspar had been a spy just as bad? What the hell had Ally been thinking? He’d not given her any reason to believe he worked for the intelligence service. In the ten months he’d been back, no one else had managed to make that leap.

  He took a deep breath. They’d not made the leap because they were too ready to assume he’d been fucking some woman in the bar’s bathroom while his sister was abducted from under his nose. But not Ally. She wanted to believe the best of him and had inadvertently stumbled on the truth.

  This time his fingers settled around the phone and Caspar pressed the buttons. Of course the number might have changed or the call might not be answered. There would be no caller display at the other end. Caspar had a pay-as-you-go mobile with no traceable contract. The sole benefit of the cheap piece of junk he held.

  “Good evening, Caspar.”

  What the hell? He dropped the phone, scrambled to pick it up and swallowed before he spoke to steady his voice. “Hello, Richard.”

  “You’ve taken awhile to get in touch.”

  “I hold grudges for a long time.” Like forever.

  “You’re still sulking?”

  Caspar bristled. “Four years in an Albanian jail for something I didn’t do. I pissed away every cent I had on my defense and when I’m finally free of bars, I’m treated like a pariah. I did what was asked. I’m still doing it and I’ve paid a high enough fucking price.”