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fixed on Ronnie. ‘But yer might have a bit of a problem if yer one of them trainee wenches, ’specially if Dora’s yer boss. She likes ter leave on time.’

‘I know.’

But how did he know?

Ronnie picked up her string bag and without another word brushed past him and out of the door.

‘Hey, not so fast.’ He was right behind her. ‘Yer goin’ ter be late. I’d better give yer a lift on the bike.’ He nodded to the shining black motorbike propped on its stand.

‘No, I—’

‘Don’t be daft,’ he said. ‘She leaves on the dot and yer not goin’ ter make it. Yer don’t want to get Dora’s goat, now do yer? Come on, I’ll help you on.’

She hesitated.

‘I’d better introduce meself. William Drake, at yer service.’ He made a mocking bow. ‘But Will ter me mates.’ He paused, his brown eyes gleaming with mischief. ‘And yous?’ He waited.

‘Um, Ronnie Linfoot,’ she mumbled, her head bent. He was too much for her. Her chest tightened. She felt the telltale heat rush to her face as she tried to think of something to say.

‘Boy’s name.’ He nodded as though he approved. ‘What’s that watch of yours say?’

‘Nineteen minutes past,’ she said, her heart thumping uncomfortably in her ears, hoping against hope that Will Drake couldn’t read what was going on in her head. To sit on the back of his motorbike, her arms …

‘Wasser matter? Don’t yer trust me?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘I’m not takin’ “no” for no answer.’

Before she could protest he picked her up as though she weighed no more than the bulky string bag she carried and set her on the pillion, then swung himself up, took the handles and revved the machine.

He twisted round. ‘Hold on. We’ll be there in two shakes.’

Feeling acutely embarrassed, the bag gripped between her knees, she put her arms round the leather jacket. It felt strange. He felt strange. She imagined she could feel the muscles beneath her hands. He twisted his head round.

‘That a butterfly sittin’ behind me or a real live bird?’

She blushed though she had no idea what he was talking about.

‘Put your arms round me really tight. That’s better. Yer gotta hold on. And lean with me when we go round corners or we’ll both be for it. Just foller my movements and yous’ll be okay.’

She was glad he couldn’t see her face. For an instant she wondered what it would be like to be kissed by Will Drake. But he wouldn’t want to know her – a tongue-tied girl who looked a mess from head to toe – more like a boy than a girl. Her cheeks felt they were on fire and for a few seconds she laid one side of her face softly against the cool smooth leather. He would never know.

Even though she was grateful and relieved when he set her down two minutes before half-past eight on the towpath opposite Persephone and Penelope, she wished those precious six minutes hadn’t sped by as fast as Will Drake’s two wheels of his motorbike. She wouldn’t be late. And it was all due to Will Drake who’d come to the rescue.

He faced her, then deliberately pulled off one of his gauntlets and stuck his bare hand out.

‘Nice ter meet one of Dora’s wenches.’

Furious with herself for wearing gloves, and not daring to be so obvious as to remove one, she took his hand. But even through the woollen gloves she felt the warmth of him. The air was cold but her insides were melting.

He grinned, showing white even teeth.

‘We’re actually called boatwomen,’ she said boldly.

He gave a short laugh, reminding her of Dora’s usual mocking tone. ‘Nah. That takes years of experience afore yer one of them.’ He looked at her intently. ‘Yer don’t look strong enough ter prepare a lock let alone steer a boat – but maybe I’m wrong.’

‘Maybe you are,’ Ronnie said firmly.

‘How d’yer get along with our Dora?’

‘She has a lot to put up with, showing the ropes to six of us greenhorns,’ Ronnie said, choosing her words carefully.

‘That don’t say nothing about her as a person,’ Will Drake said, chuckling. ‘Yer can be honest with me.’ He pointed to himself. ‘If yer want my opinion, she’s a right ol’ biddy. But she knows the boats and the cuts better’n anyone else around here, I’ll say that for ’er.’

Ronnie couldn’t think of any suitable reply.

‘See yous around sometime,’ he said as he stepped on the accelerator. ‘Say hello ter Dora from me.’

Before she had time to reply he’d vanished.

It was only when she turned to step onto the roof of the butty that she saw Dora Dummitt silently watching from Persephone’s roof.

Ronnie’s head swam. Dora hadn’t been anywhere in sight when Will had pulled up or surely she would have noticed. But Dora would have seen him ride off, no doubt about that.

Ronnie licked her lips. Keep calm.

‘Where’ve yer bin, girl?’ Dora said, scowling, not bothering to help her onto the slippery surface.

‘I went to the village shop to pick up the rest of the food we needed.’ Ronnie held up the bulging string bag, her voice wavering, knowing her face would give her away no matter how hard she tried to explain.

‘Why didn’t yer get everything yesterday?’ Dora growled.

‘We forgot the coupons.’

Dora opened her mouth and huffed out a huge sigh.

‘And I was worried I was going to be late,’ Ronnie gabbled on. ‘But luckily Will Drake came into the shop – he said he knows you – and gave me a lift so I’d be back in time.’ She hauled herself up. ‘It was very kind of him,’ she added.

‘Hmm.’ Dora pulled her mouth tight. ‘Yer want ter watch Will Drake. He’s a one for the girls. Always got someone new on his arm. Then he loses interest and dumps them for the next poor bitch. I wouldn’t like to see you or any of the other trainees get entangled.’

Dora might as well have punched her in the stomach.

‘Oh, I-I …’ Ronnie

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