“Sounds like you’re in control,” Luke said. “Time for us to hit the road.”
“When you have ten years to plan it’s easy. This way.”
Luke and Maria followed the Penshaws around the side of Clifton Hall to the stables. The Triumph Spitfire sat under the archway, clean and polished after its previous run.
Sir Henry popped open the boot. “All the ingredients you requested are here, along with supplies for the next couple of weeks. I’ve added one of my best bottles of Scotch as a thank you gift.”
Maria reached inside and sifted through the packets of spices, rice, and chicken.
Luke put his arm around her. “I promised I’d cook you a curry. You’re having one tonight at Century House.”
“Where?” she asked.
“It’s a villa on the coast. I thought we could spend some time chilling out, fishing, cooking, swimming in the pool, and doing whatever we felt like.”
“Are you serious?”
“Don’t you want to go?”
“Wild horses wouldn’t stop me.”
Helen tossed Luke the keys. “See you in a couple of weeks.”
Maria moved around to the passenger side, fumbled with handle, opened the door, and climbed in. Luke sat behind the wheel, turned the ignition, and the engine growled to life. He crunched the car into first gear, felt the clutch bite, and punched the accelerator.
Sir Henry and Helen backed to the side of the road as the wheels spun and gained traction. The Triumph shot forward, throwing up a trail of dust, and Luke held up a hand to wave goodbye as the Penshaws disappeared in the rear-view mirror.
The main gates opened with a metallic screech, and he steered through the gap, turned onto a road leading to Century House, and gunned the Spitfire’s engine. Ahead, the sea glistened under the setting sun. At either side, people waved from fields as the car roared toward the coast.
Maria leaned against Luke’s shoulder, put an arm around his waist, and he pulled her closer. He knew from today on he could look ahead to the sunlit uplands of a brighter future, spending his time with someone who wanted nothing more than to enjoy their life.
His days of serving somebody else’s agenda were over, and he smiled to himself, safe in the knowledge he no longer needed to live his life in fast forward.
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Acknowledgments
Writing and publishing a novel is rarely an individual experience. As an avid reader, I often see Oscar-like speeches in this section, with thanks going as far as the local barista to a laptop manufacturer. I’ll try not to bore you and will stick to the people who were instrumental in the production of FAST FORWARD. Betsy Mitchell carried out a fine structural edit and provided invaluable advice. My copy editor, Terri King, did an excellent job ironing out the kinks, and she always works with boundless enthusiasm. Bob Sirrine proofread the kindle version and I value his eagle eye. While I was drafting the book, Carl Sinclair peer reviewed each chapter and gave great support during the writing process. Paul Lucas, my agent, also gave excellent editorial feedback which I’ll always appreciate. Finally, if you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading this novel. Your support is appreciated and if you enjoyed it, please leave a review and let me know.
FAST FORWARD: A Science Fiction Thriller Page 28
