Kiss a Falling Star

by Barabara Elsborg

  “A push?”

  Ally nodded.

  “I think he means scuba dive and fly a plane.”

  “Oh. How do you know it’s a man? Could be a demanding supermodel.”

  “Okay, we’ll apply.”

  Caspar doubted anything would come from any of their applications. Ally had done lots of things but was qualified to do very little. Caspar had plenty of qualifications but one damning gap in his employment put him bottom of any list. Plus he could never actually admit to part of his former job.

  “Right. I’ve had enough.” Ally got up. “Would you check this final application while I make us a sandwich?”

  Caspar gaped at her. “Lunchtime already?”

  “See how time flies when you’re having fun?”

  The perpetual anxiety eating at Caspar’s stomach had lessened. His problems hadn’t gone but they’d reduced in importance. Breathing seemed easier. He’d even managed to fill out applications for two jobs in which he was vaguely interested. One working for a publisher and the other for a translation service. Not that he’d get them. Ally had wanted to apply for almost everything she saw. Caspar checked the latest.

  He almost choked when he read what she’d written.

  Sex: Whenever possible, wherever possible

  Education: Yes

  Previous Employment: Slave to sadist

  Salary: £120,000 a year

  Reason for leaving: Tired of being whipped

  Special skills: Fast healing

  “Want me to press send?” he called.

  “Go on. Why not? It might give them a laugh. There can’t be many of those if you work for a company selling plastic grass.”

  She brought cheese sandwiches and coffee to the table.

  “I promised to go back to the MRO this afternoon,” she said. “They’re having a training session tomorrow.”

  Caspar clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to feel envious of the way Ally had so quickly integrated into village life but he did. “I didn’t know.”

  Ally raised her eyebrows.

  “I volunteered ten months ago and have never been called for training.” Oh God, I’m whining.

  “Neil told me the paperwork was in a mess. Maybe you got missed off the list.”

  “Or they don’t want me around. They have a meeting once a week, I’ve never been asked to that either.”

  “Do you climb?”

  Caspar nodded. “Do you?”

  “No. Finn took me once when he went with his mates and I didn’t like it.”

  “Would you try with me?”

  “Sure.” She didn’t look thrilled.

  Take me outside and shoot me now. Why the hell had she nodded? Well, she knew why. Because she was a lustful idiot.

  “Want to take your life into your hands and let me cook tonight?” she asked.

  “So long as it’s not rabbit.”

  Ally laughed.

  Caspar rose to his feet. “What time do you want me?”

  Now. “Seven? No need to bring anything. I’ve discovered where Finn hid his booze. He won’t miss a bottle or three.”

  “Okay.”

  “Actually, there is one thing you could bring.”

  Caspar blinked. “What?”

  She gulped. “Your toothbrush?”

  He swept her into his arms and kissed her. Ally’s head fogged. Caspar dropped his mouth to her ear. “Have you any idea what you’re doing to me?”

  Yes, because he was doing it to her.

  “If it wasn’t for the fact that the torment of unrequited lust will make tonight so much sweeter, I’d fuck you right now on this table.”

  All her organs shivered. Ally licked his neck. “I was thinking of making you wait a little longer but I changed my mind.”

  Caspar pressed his erection against her thigh. “Why?”

  “You might go off me.”

  “Improbable. Impossible. Intolerable.”

  She opened her eyes wide. “Such big words.”

  Caspar dropped whisper-soft kisses around the line of her jaw. “I don’t have anything to prove in that department, do I?”

  “No, your head is quite big enough.”

  He growled and let her go. “Tonight.”

  “Tonight,” Ally repeated.

  When Caspar had gone, she sang as she cleaned up. She wasn’t like the others. Caspar wasn’t treating her like them. She knew things about him they didn’t and she was going to find him a job if it killed her.

  Hopefully no one would actually kill her.

  She’d had a few thoughts as she read his applications. Cambridge graduate, Foreign Office, smart guy equals James Bond? Her imagination running away with her?

  Ally checked her emails.

  Jack’s had become increasingly desperate.

  Call me, I need to talk to you.

  Ally, this is business related. I need to speak to you.

  How difficult can it be to pick up the phone and call me?

  I’ve left you several messages and texts. I can’t help but think you’re deliberately avoiding me.

  You think?

  Ally, please. Have I done something to upset you? Let me put it right. Meet me for a drink. You name the time and place.

  My God, Ally, it was you who fell under that train. Your picture’s in the paper. Are you okay? Please call me.

  I took flowers to your bedsit but someone else is living there. Where are you?

  It didn’t escape Ally’s notice that Jack never actually said what he wanted. If it was business related, why not ask her by email? But rather than have him continue to flood her inbox and phone with messages, Ally called him as she walked into the village.

  “Hi, it’s me.”

  “Ally. Christ, I was beginning to think you’d been abducted by aliens.”

  “They brought me back because I talked too much.”

  “What? Oh right, well I need to see you.”

  “I gathered that. What’s wrong?”

  Jack cleared his throat. “I need to speak to you face-to-face.”

  “What about?”

  “It’s personal. About—what happened at the restaurant.”

  The kiss. Ally cringed. “I’ve forgotten about that. It’s fine. No problem.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Jack whispered.

  Oh fuck it. “You’re married. You have lovely kids. A beautiful wife.”

  “I’m not happy. While I was your boss I couldn’t say anything, but— Please meet me somewhere, Ally. I can get a train up there. Couple of hours and I can be with you.”

  Damn, damn, damn. He knew where she was.

  “I don’t think so, Jack.” Ally ended the call and switched off her phone.

  Chapter Ten

  Jack had just made a stupid mistake. He put his mobile down on the kitchen table and stared at it. Two mistakes. The first was pressing the idea he was interested in Ally, which clearly freaked her out. The second was more significant. She’d guess he knew where she was. Actually, he didn’t know her exact location—yet.

  It was bloody tricky trying to cover his tracks. He’d started to erase some of the messages on his mobile and then realized selective deletion would look bad if the phone was checked. Since his mobile recorded incoming and outgoing calls, even if he deleted his records the phone company didn’t.

  So far the fire department investigators seemed to accept the blaze had been caused by an electrical fault in a heater. Jack had researched how to do it and then deleted his browsing history and wiped his hard drive.Maybe he needed to look at adult porn sites and let them think that was what he was trying to hide.

  He wasn’t cut out to be a criminal, but he should have thought of that before he said yes to the wrong people. In many ways, Jack wished he could turn back the clock, not to before he’d set the fire but before he’d answered that speculative question in a pub and greed had consumed his common sense. So far, his ex-employees hadn’t been questioned, but it could only be a matter of time
and before it happened, he had to make sure those emails on Ally’s computer disappeared for good.

  * * * * *

  Emma had made a stupid mistake when she’d called Sal and related Geoff’s suggestion they all go to Ally’s. She’d expected Sal to be as horrified as her at the idea of spending a couple of days counting sheep. Bloody Sal had bloody booked them into some bloody adventure place.

  The moment Geoff walked into the bar to have lunch with her, Emma went straight to the boil without passing simmer. “Boyfriends aren’t supposed to come to hen parties. That’s the whole bloody point of them. We help the bride-to-be have a final fling and do all sorts of…things without her husband-to-be or boyfriends getting pissed off. That bitch, Sal, shouldn’t have asked you to take us. You can’t come.”

  “I’m not coming to Kerry’s hen party,” Geoff said in a quiet voice. “I’m just driving the six of you up there. I’m the only one with a big enough vehicle.”

  Emma huffed. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into suggesting this. We’re having the proper hen party next month. We don’t need to do the countryside as well.”

  “Sal’s booked it now and it makes sense for me to drive everyone. It’s a lot cheaper than the train.”

  “Where are you going to sleep?”

  Geoff’s face hardened under her snappy tone. “I thought if Ally’s got a spare—”

  Emma held back her squeal of dismay. Just. “You can’t stay with her.”

  “Why ever not? You’re not going to be staying there.”

  That’s the fucking point.

  Geoff sighed. “I don’t see the problem. Why should I fork out money for a hotel if I can stay with Ally? I won’t come anywhere near you, I swear. You can do whatever it is you girls want to do, get as drunk as you like and I’ll drive you back to London and not say a word.”

  “But—”

  “That’s enough, Emma. Give it a rest.”

  Emma bit down on the inside of her cheeks until she tasted blood. He’d been short with her. Lovely, quiet, unassuming Geoff had snapped at her. He’d been so moody this past week. Now this insistence on staying with Ally. What was she supposed to think?

  Back in her office, Emma went on the internet and looked for a local hotel or bed and breakfast. Three phone calls later she gave in. The bad news—everywhere she’d called told her the same thing—there were no rooms. The good—Sean MacAlister was filming in Wyndale. She couldn’t wait to tell the others.

  Then again, maybe she shouldn’t. It might have been her idea to take this quick break, but it was Sal, Kerry’s maid of honor, who’d grabbed it and run. Sal had arranged this couple of days in Derbyshire and told them to pack old clothes. Emma didn’t intend to meet Sean McAlister wearing anything but her most flattering outfits and the less competition she had, the better.

  * * * * *

  Mark had made a stupid mistake and he didn’t know what had possessed him. Once word had spread around the office that Ally was the woman who’d escaped death by inches, the rumor mill had suggested he’d pushed her so he could ride off into the sunset attached to one of Belinda’s breasts. Mark didn’t need that sort of comment getting back to his boss, so he’d started a counter rumor claiming Ally had tried to commit suicide.

  Frank called him in and asked if it was true. Aware there was no response that would make his boss happy, Mark had said Ally had no memory of what happened. He emerged shaken from Frank’s office with an order to make things right. Now.

  How? He wished the bitch had gone under the wheels and then he’d have had the sympathy of the office instead of snide comments.

  * * * * *

  When Ally walked into the mountain rescue office, she groaned. There were maps spread out all over the floor and Neil stood in a triangle of space in the corner as if he’d been marooned in a sea of paper.

  “What are you up to?” she asked.

  “Going over the routes for tomorrow.”

  “Oh, for the training course. Did you find your paperwork?”

  Neil began folding the maps. “Yep. Twelve doing the course, two of us on admin.”

  “Including Caspar?”

  Neil’s head shot up and Ally turned as Tom walked in behind her.

  “Caspar’s not one of us,” Tom said.

  Ally took a deep breath. “He told me he volunteered but he’s never been called in for training. Why not?”

  “He’s not suitable,” Neil mumbled as he kept folding.

  “How do you know if you’ve never let him train?”

  “Ally, you know—” Tom began.

  “Yes, I know he’s been in prison. I also know he deserves another chance.” She turned to Neil. “Please let him join you tomorrow.”

  “He’s a lazy bastard,” Tom spat.

  Ally bristled. She almost expected to see spines shoot out of her clothes. “What makes you say that?”

  “He doesn’t work. He sponges off his parents.” Tom crossed his arms.

  Ally fumed. “Did you know you have to declare on a job application that you’ve been in prison? Which pile do you think that puts him in? Interview or not? He’s damned before he even tries. And he isn’t sponging off his parents. He can barely afford to eat.”

  Tom glared. “What the hell do all you women see in him? Is he that good between the sheets?”

  Ally counted to three before she spoke so she didn’t yell. “I have no idea. Not that it’s any of your business.” She turned to Neil. “Let Caspar train with you tomorrow. Give him a chance.”

  Neil cast a glance at Tom and then muttered, “Okay.”

  Tom slammed the door on his way out.

  Ally snorted. “Very grown up.”

  Neil sighed. “My only stipulation is that you have to come too. We need pairs.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” Ally flung her arms around Neil and gave him a hug. “So where shall I start?”

  “The filing cabinet?”

  Ally opened the bottom drawer, lifted out a pile of papers and reeled. “What the— Neil, what’s this?”

  He came up behind her. “Oh, I wondered where that donut went. Forbidden, so I hide them.”

  “I thought some animal had crawled in, crapped and crept out again.”

  Neil laughed. Once he’d disposed of the offending article, she sat on the floor and began to sort. She made different piles for training, first aid and fund raising, and arranged them in folders by date.

  “What exactly is happening tomorrow?” Ally asked. “Will I be okay in my heels?”

  Neil shot her a horrified look and she laughed.

  “Do you have boots?” he asked.

  “Some lovely knee-high ones. Black leather.”

  He chuckled. “Right. Well, it’s an orienteering exercise where one of the six…seven teams will come across a casualty situation. The other groups will have to make their way to the primary point to assist. Not a race, but they all treat it as a race.” He smiled.

  “I wonder if you’re the casualty armed with a flask of coffee, a pack of sandwiches and a good book.”

  Neil raised his eyebrows. “You really are going to go far.”

  Ally laughed. “Yep, probably in the wrong direction.”

  “I appreciate you doing all this work, Ally. Sorry I can’t pay you.”

  “You’re paying me by inviting Caspar to the training. He won’t let you down.”

  Neil sighed. “We’ll see. Seven o’clock. Foot of Tyburn Crag. Bring lunch. And dress appropriately.”

  * * * * *

  Ally thought about what to cook as she made her way home. Something easy. Enchiladas. She’d bought the ingredients to make them for herself, intending to split and freeze them, so there’d be plenty for Caspar. Finn had an apple tree in his garden, so if Ally could scavenge some blackberries, she’d whip up a crumble for pudding.

  Dumping her purse in the kitchen, Ally grabbed a colander and set out from the rear of the house. She climbed over a low wooden fence at the end of the garden a
nd walked along the edge of the woods. When she spotted a likely looking spread of brambles, Ally ventured farther into the trees.

  She listened to the trunks creak and leaves rustle, taking in the earthy scent and smiling at the rays of sunlight dappling the forest floor. It was so peaceful compared to the bustle of London. No car horns blaring and sirens screaming. Ally hadn’t been sure she’d like the countryside, but she did, though she suspected most of that was because of Caspar.

  Oh my God. A tingle crept up the back of her neck.

  A deer grazed yards away from her. Ally held her breath. Wow, a wild animal. Darn it, holding her breath was stupid. Now she was desperate to breathe. How come it hadn’t spotted her and bounded off? Maybe she was downwind or something. Or supernaturally still with no scent. She smiled and crouched.

  The gunshot rang so loud in her ears Ally thought she’d been hit. She let out a muffled scream and then groaned when she realized the deer had fallen.

  “No, no, no.” She ran toward it and then slowed. If it wasn’t dead, she had no idea what to do. It was almost a relief to see the animal motionless, its glassy eyes unblinking. She gulped and then looked up at the sound of footsteps crunching through the undergrowth.

  A man in his fifties, dressed in a dark green jacket and flat cap strode toward her carrying a rifle, a large yellow dog at his heels.

  “You killed it,” she said in a stunned voice.

  He glared at her. “What in hell’s name are you doing in here, you stupid woman?”

  “You killed it.” Anger bubbled inside her.

  He glanced at the deer. “So I did. My deer. My land. You’re trespassing, and lucky I didn’t hit you. Get out.”

  Ally turned and fled. It was only when she climbed back over the fence that she realized she’d left Finn’s colander behind. Shit.

  * * * * *

  Caspar got off the bus in the middle of the village, keeping a tight grasp on the bag he carried. With the final installment of Job Seekers’ Allowance paid into his bank account, he’d blown twenty quid of it travelling to Buxton, purchasing a chilled bottle of champagne, and catching the next bus home. He could buy that star for Ally now too.

  He couldn’t afford it, but he didn’t care. As he passed Stone Cottage, he wondered if Ally was home. He decided not to call. He’d never leave and he wanted to have a shower. A tux still hung in his wardrobe unless moths had eaten it.