The Girl in the Yellow Vest (17 page)

Ignoring him, Mark threw open his door and got out in time to see the girl in the centre of the road collapse in shock. She moaned as her legs buckled under her and connected with road. It had been a very hot day and he knew it was probably burning through her jeans. In a few strides, he was by her side, lifting her off the scorching tar.

He carried her to the side of the road and placed her on the weedy but softer ground in front of the car. Another car door slammed. ‘Well, I’ll be bloody damned,’ said Fish.

‘Is she all right, Mark?’ It was Will, who had also been in the car.

‘Bring me some water,’ he barked.

The girl slowly opened her eyes as the other two men walked over to them. They were the same miraculous blue as the ones belonging to the woman he was beginning to regard as his nemesis.

For a second, the girl’s expression was blank, before fear crowded in.

‘Here.’ He placed the bottle of water that Will had brought over near her lips.

‘Let go of me,’ she croaked, struggling to sit up.

‘I would by all means,’ Mark purred, ‘if I believed I wouldn’t have to scrape you off the road again. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s having to do the same thing twice.’

‘I’m not going to faint,’ she rasped.

‘Try to drink some more water,’ Will suggested.

Running feet sounded on the road and they all turned around to see a curvaceous figure in tight jeans and a black singlet.

Of course, who else would it be?
‘Ah, Ms Templeton. Your timing is impeccable.’

She was breathless and sweaty, strands of her auburn hair stuck to her forehead, her breasts heaving in gentle rhythm as she came to a stop, dropping immediately to her knees.

‘Thank God,’ she muttered.

‘As much as I like to be thanked,’ his lips curled, ‘prayer is quite unnecessary.’

‘Oh, just give her to me,’ Charlotte snapped rather impatiently at his quip.

He transferred the girl into her arms, noticing with interest the way she closed her eyes and squeezed her tight, like she was the most precious thing in the world. It had been so long since he had held anyone like that, or been held like that. Love was so far removed from his life that looking at it now, naked before him, made him physically ache.

‘Oh, Zara,’ Charlotte whispered hoarsely into her girl’s hair, ‘they could have killed you.’

‘I’m fine,’ the girl responded.

‘I was worried sick. Please don’t do that again.’

‘I . . . I’m sorry,’ Zara said. ‘I just lost it.’

‘I know. I’m sorry too.’ As they continued to hold each other, Mark cleared his throat and Charlotte finally opened her eyes again. ‘Er, thank you,’ she said. ‘I can take it from here.’

There was obviously more going on than she was letting on but it was none of his business. Hell, the last thing he wanted to be involved in was Ms Templeton’s personal affairs. Talk about nightmare.

He nodded curtly and was about to stand up when Zara gasped.

‘What is it?’ he asked. But she seemed too overcome to speak. Was she more hurt than he realised?

‘It’s the bird, Mark,’ Will explained. ‘I think we killed it.’

With relief, he followed the direction of Zara’s gaze back to the front wheel of his car. There, lying beside it, certainly as if it were dead, was a scrub turkey, a black-feathered native bird with a fan-like tail, a bare red head and yellow wattle. It must have been roaming in the bush by the side of the road when the car swerved onto the shoulder. It was quite impressive when standing but this one lay limp on its side.

‘Zara –’ Charlotte began but the girl ignored her.

She put out her hand to stroke it. The bird shuddered and then to all their surprise tried to stand up. Unfortunately one of its rubbery legs didn’t want to function. The limb was bent at an odd angle. It squawked in pain, the lame leg trembling as it tried to draw it up. It failed and collapsed on its side again.

Zara put the bottle of water down and scooped the bird into her arms. ‘This turkey is hurt,’ she announced quite unnecessarily.

‘Not as hurt as you could have been,’ Mark returned drily. ‘What were you doing running in the middle of the road?’

‘I wasn’t thinking,’ she muttered as she carefully felt the bird’s wings.

‘Why is it,’ Mark mused to no one in particular, ‘that people always give me that excuse? It’s not even an excuse; it is an insult to their own character.’

His words made no impression on the girl. She was examining the turkey’s wings. They didn’t appear to be broken. She didn’t look up, drawing the bird into her arms, a grim expression marking her young face. It pecked at her hand, its red head swaying about in panic. She tried to hold it close.

‘I’m so sorry.’

All these apologies. Whatever were they for? And, more importantly, why were none of them directed at him?

‘Wouldn’t do that if I were you.’ Fish looked derisively at the girl. ‘That thing’s dirty as hell. Full of germs, might catch something.’

Zara glared at his engineer. Not that Mark blamed her. He could have said the same thing about Fish. He was by far the most unkempt human being he had ever seen.

‘What?’ Fish raised bushy brows.

Will’s mouth twisted as though he were trying hard not to laugh. He put a hand on his colleague’s arm. ‘Let it go, Fish.’

‘You guys don’t have to stick around,’ Charlotte said again. ‘I’m with my sister now. I’ll make sure she’s okay.’

‘Yes, I thought she must be your sister,’ Mark murmured. ‘She looks like you.’

His casual remark seemed to have an entirely uncasual effect on the person it was directed at. Charlotte’s wide eyes flew straight to her sister, who immediately looked up from the injured turkey, a kind of dead expression on her face.

‘Really? You think I look like her?’ Pain of some kind made Zara lose a little colour. ‘I always thought I must look most like my father. And I do. I’ve seen his photograph.’ She gulped in air but it didn’t seem to help as she practically choked on the words. ‘I . . . I look just like him.’

‘Listen,’ Charlotte interrupted her monologue to reclaim his attention, ‘you were obviously headed somewhere. We don’t want to make you late.’

‘We have a meeting with a contractor in Sarina,’ Mark told her, now wanting to stay just because he knew she wanted him to go. ‘But it doesn’t matter if we’re late. Perhaps, Ms Templeton, you would like me to drive you and your sister back to the resort?’

‘Here.’ Will kneeled down beside Zara. ‘I’ll help you.’

He tried to take the turkey from Zara but she swung her body away.

‘I’m not leaving it. Can’t you see its leg is broken? It’ll die of starvation or worse without treatment.’

Fish clucked his tongue. ‘Come on, girlie, it’s just a bush turkey. They’re a dime a dozen. Like rats, really.’

‘So you just want to abandon it?’ Her voice shook.

‘Well,’ Fish shrugged, ‘I suppose we can break its neck, if you think that would be more humane.’

Zara gasped in shock and choked back tears. ‘Yes, that’s what most people would do, wouldn’t they? Kill it. Because it’s not worth saving.’

Her eyes grew glassy and Charlotte immediately went to her side.

Mark frowned. ‘Surely this turkey can’t mean that much to you?’

‘If he wants to kill it, he’ll have to go through me.’ Zara glanced up fiercely at Fish then turned to her sister. ‘Lottie, we need to take this turkey to the vet.’

Ms Templeton, he noticed, was looking decidedly uncomfortable as she gazed down at the feathered victim no longer struggling in her sister’s arms. ‘Zara, I’m not really in a position to be footing heavy medical bills . . . or surgery for a turkey right now.’

Zara’s mouth set into a mutinous line. ‘We can’t abandon it. It can’t take care of itself.’

‘Well,’ Fish rubbed his chin thoughtfully, ‘she doesn’t want to break its neck but if you guys are keen maybe we could tie a brick to its foot and I could chuck it off the back of my boat tonight. It’ll put me out a bit but,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘I’m willing to do it if I can get to this meeting on time.’

Mark watched Zara mentally throw a brick in his face and laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s not your turn yet, my dear. In line,
please
.’

Charlotte, who had been examining the bird quietly, said, ‘Honey, by the looks of him, even if we did take him to a vet, they would probably just advise us to put him down.’

‘No.’ Zara shook her head. ‘We’ll insist on treatment.’

Her sister winced. ‘Zara, it’ll be very expensive.’

‘I’ll pay for it.’

‘Sweetie,’ Charlotte pulled a face, ‘you’re not really in a position to pay for it either. Apart from the fact that we’ll have to take care of the bird as it recovers. Give it medicine, buy it a cage or something. It’s just not practical, Zara.’

‘I won’t let you or anyone kill it. I’ll take care of it.’

‘You say that now.’

‘I know.’ Fish raised his right hand as though the question had just been asked. ‘Why don’t we just back up the car and run over it again? Bound to kill it properly the second time.’

‘Fish,’ Will said warningly, ‘if I were you I’d quit while I was ahead.’

Zara’s eyes brightened as they rested upon the young man. Mark found himself feeling slightly piqued that she didn’t consider him as the saviour in the bunch. After all, he had picked her up off the road.

‘You would never drop it off the side of a boat, would you?’ Zara said to Will sweetly.

‘Er, no I wouldn’t,’ Will agreed.

‘He doesn’t have a boat!’ Fish snorted scornfully. ‘So how could he?’

‘The man does have a point,’ Mark mused.

Zara ignored him. ‘Will you take him?’

‘
What?
’ Will started.

‘Well, obviously we can’t let him die. You just said you wouldn’t kill him.’

‘What I meant was –’

‘Go on, William,’ Mark murmured. ‘What did you mean?’

‘If all you intend to do is stand around mocking people, Mr Crawford,’ Charlotte interrupted crossly, ‘then I would appreciate it if you just stayed quiet.’

Mark pulled the sunglasses on his head down over his eyes. ‘My apologies, Ms Templeton. But you’ll find it very difficult to foist a half-dead turkey on any man even if he were of a sensitive spirit, as is young William.’

‘He just called you a pussy,’ Fish jeered.

Will glared at him.

Charlotte, however, was still focused on Mark. ‘Thank you for that brilliant illumination, Mr Crawford,’ she said scathingly. ‘I don’t suppose you have any further advice for us?’

‘As a matter of fact I do, Ms Templeton. Give the bird to me.’

‘What?’ Zara looked up as he began to roll up his sleeves. ‘Why?’

Mark’s lip curled self-mockingly. ‘As it happens, I’m in the market for a pet.’

‘A pet?’ Charlotte repeated scornfully. ‘
Please
.’

‘You wound me, Ms Templeton.’

‘He’s going to secretly slaughter it.’ Zara clutched Charlotte’s hand in terror. ‘I won’t give it to him.’

‘Then get in the car,’ Mark gestured to the door, ‘you can take it to the vet yourself. I’ll just watch.’

‘What about our meeting?’ Fish demanded.

Mark glanced at his watch. ‘We’ll never make it now. Will, cancel it.’

‘All right,’ Will slowly agreed. ‘Did you, er . . . want us to come to the vet as well?’

‘No. You two will return to the office.’

‘All right.’ Fish seemed annoyed but resigned. ‘Let’s get back in the car.’

‘No, there’s no room now.’ Mark shook his head. ‘You’ll have to walk.’

Fish gasped in outrage.

‘And you’ve just been bumped for a turkey,’ Will whispered smugly.

Fish growled.

‘You mean it. You honestly mean it?’ Zara was watching the proceedings in disbelief.

Mark inclined his head. ‘I never say anything I don’t mean.’

But Charlotte wasn’t buying it. ‘If you’re playing some sort of game, Mr Crawford, this is not the time for it.’

Mark raised his eyebrows. ‘Then perhaps you would like to accompany us as well, Ms Templeton, just to make sure I’m not taking the bird down some dark alley in order to put an end to its charmed life.’

He walked towards the car as though there were no question that they would follow. By now, Fish was bristling with anger and Will was looking down with a hand firmly over his mouth. Zara, on the other hand, was completely sold on the idea. She picked up the turkey, walked towards the car and slid straight into the backseat behind him.

‘Come on, Lottie,’ she called out. ‘What are you waiting for?’

Charlotte glanced from her to Mark and then back again. ‘I wish I knew.’

By the time Mark got back to the office it was past six o’clock. He still had a stack of work to do due to having wasted the balance of the afternoon on a turkey he was sorely beginning to regret adopting. Firstly, there was that God-awful trip to the vet in a car that was now fumigated with the smell of buttermilk and raspberries. Honestly, you could probably use
that woman’s
shampoo as a topping for scones. And then there was the interminable wait in the vet’s reception, in which he was sure she must have lost all blood circulation in her legs. How could you not, in jeans that tight?!

The turkey, a truly ungrateful creature, squawked at incessant intervals, reminding them all that it was in pain. As if he weren’t experiencing some himself, listening to a fifteen-year-old go on and on about how soft its feathers were, how cute its clawed little feet and how intelligent its beady little eyes.

Yeah right.

More like how lucky its feathered little arse was to be alive.

He said as much in frustration and earned a pointed glare from
that woman
.

‘If you don’t like the bird why on earth are you adopting it?’

His throat had tightened because it was exactly the sort of question he didn’t want to answer. ‘A whim,’ he said at last.

‘Right,’ she snorted.

Fortunately, the vet managed to fit them in before he shut up shop for the day and was very efficient in resetting the bone and fastening a split to the leg. He also put a plastic collar on the turkey so that it couldn’t peck at it. A wise move, as the turkey had already proven itself to be remarkably stupid. Fortunately, the turkey did not need surgery but it would need to be brought back in a week for a check-up.