Crash Course by Derek Fee (pdf to ebook reader .txt) 📕

“David, darling,” Amanda said patiently. “We’ve been through this a thousand times and more. You weren’t going any further and we both know it. There’s no place at the top of the tree for men with the courage to voice their own opinion. You were a first-class naval officer but you were somewhat lacking in the diplomacy area. That was fatal for your career.”

He looked up into her still beautiful face. “But you were such a perfect naval wife.”

“Rubbish, I hated every second of it. My heart jumped for joy when you told me you would take over the boatyard and I’ve loved every moment that we’ve been here.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “We’ve been over this ground more times than I can count and you still need my affirmation that you made the right decision.”

“And how do you feel now that I’ve almost ruined us?”

“If the worst comes to the worst, and it won’t, then we can always sell up and buy a small cottage somewhere. There’s still some equity in the yard?”

“And now for the bad news.” He rose and held her in his arms. “The offers will only cover our liabilities. I’m afraid that everything we have is sunk in Kernow. So it won’t be a little cottage that we’ll be retiring to but the local workhouse.”

“Don’t be such an old misery guts.” She snuggled into his broad chest. “Your precious boat won’t fail. It looks wonderful and if it performs according to your calculations, it will beat the socks off every boat on the circuit. Now let’s get out of this depressive humour and think positively for a change.”

“I’m confident about the boat. It’s bloody Mark Kane that worries me. Not only does he know bugger all about driving a powerboat, he’s also one of the most arrogant and ignorant men I’ve ever met. And that’s saying something.”

“I don’t suppose he reminds you of someone. Like a fresh know-it-all captain in the Royal Navy. What is it about you men? Thousands of years of evolution and you still behave as though you were living in a cave and hunting meat with a club. I was watching your little trip across the bay through the glasses. Our beginner didn’t do too badly and I could see from your face that you thought pretty much the same.”

“I hope you’re the only one who can see through me so easily. You’re right. Kane didn’t perform too badly and I have no doubt that with a fair amount of tuition and a season or two under his belt he’d give most of the boys on the circuit a run for their money. But we don’t have a season or two. We may not even have a month or two. Most of Tom’s money has gone on the development of the boat. We’ll need to win money from day one if we’re to keep the team on the road.”

“Have you told Tom this?”

“It’s bad enough the ancestors knowing that I couldn’t manage a bun fight in a bakery without letting everybody in on the damn secret. Tom’s mind is set on Kane and he’s as stubborn as they come.”

“Someday that damn Penhalion pride of yours will land us all in trouble. I may have lost my touch with looking into men’s souls but I’ll wager everything I’ve got, which according to you isn’t very much, that Mark will surprise quite a few people before he’s finished. Now, let’s forget all this gloomy talk about bankruptcy and the ability, or lack of, of Mark Kane. I’m ravenous. Take me out to dinner.”

“At your service.” David made a mock bow. “Blast the bean counters all to hell.” He closed the account books that lay on the desk. “And if Tom wants Mark Kane to be a powerboat driver, then so be it.”

Chapter Twelve

Kane screamed.

“No, no, it can’t be. Good God, how could someone do something like that.’

He snapped awake, sweat streaming down his body. He hadn’t heard the scream but he knew that he had emitted one. The first time in a long while, he thought as he lay in the darkness. Some days he wondered whether the memories would ever fade completely but he knew that they wouldn’t. Bad memories can fade but horror remains fixed in the brain, building and waiting until like tonight it bursts forth in the sub-conscious and returns the horror with stark reality. He groped on the bedside table and found the lamp. He pushed the button and a faint light illuminated the area around his hand. His watch said twenty past two.

The knock on the door was barely perceptible, as though its author didn’t wish it to be acknowledged. He slid out of the bed and moved to the door.

“Mark, everything okay?” Doc Watson’s whisper was discernible through the thin wooden door.

As soon as Bell had returned to Yorkshire, Kane had moved into a room beside Doc above the bar of the Nag’s Head. The pub was clean and comfortable and they didn’t have far to go for food and drink.

He slipped the bolt and opened the door. Watson stood sheepishly in the corridor his dark hair askew. He was dressed in striped pyjamas as least a size too big for him.

“I heard a scream.” Doc stared into Kane’s sweat-streaked face.

“It’s okay.” Kane wiped his face with his hand. “A bad dream. You can go back to bed. I guarantee there’ll be no repeat performance.” And there wouldn’t be because Kane knew that he would not sleep again this night. He couldn’t risk falling again into the pit from which he had awakened.

“I don’t want to butt in but it sounded like a pretty serious bad dream to me.” Doc moved close to the gap in the door. “Look at you, man, you’re as white as a ghost and sweat is running off you like a stream running