Second Chance with the Playboy Read online

“Well, we didn’t have much to choose from,” conceded Annabel.

  Marcus stood. “I’ll just go and order some.”

  Annabel stared out of the window; the car park seemed to be getting busier. A lot of truckers had turned up. She presumed either to refuel or to take their mandatory breaks. If they planned to rush into the café, it was a good job they were just about to order. Her stomach twisted into knots each time she looked at him. Time hadn’t dissipated her feelings, just hidden them away.

  It wasn’t long before Marcus returned. “So what have you been doing with yourself?” she asked him as a sudden shyness washed over her. She felt like she was talking with a stranger, not someone she had once considered a friend and a lover.

  “I own my own firm; I guess I have done well for myself.” He didn’t like to brag, and generally, people would just befriend you for the amount of money you had or what they thought you could do for them.

  “You ever get married, kids?”

  “Er…no.”

  She caught how Marcus had hesitated, but then Annabel thought that perhaps she was just prying too much. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, and she had no real need to ask such personal questions. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “No, it’s okay. I guess.” He turned away slightly as if he didn’t want to answer any more probing questions. “We’re just getting to know each other again.” He played with the teaspoon, twirling it around in his fingers. “So what about you? Married, two point four kids?”

  “No to both. I never have time for either.”

  “I think you would make a great mum.”

  She remembered Marcus used to like the way she blushed and nibbled on her bottom lip. It had always looked cute. The waitress came over and brought their plate of chips. They both thanked her and tucked into the British tradition.

  “Why is it chips taste nicer by the seaside than anywhere else?’

  Annabel laughed. “I’m not sure I am up for such a demanding conversation.”

  “Okay, I guess we can discuss the weather.”

  “Running out of things to say?” She could tell he was just as nervous as he was. Surely they could have something to talk about. “Do you still see Tommy?”

  “Only when he is on leave. He joined the Navy. Oh, do you remember Craig from the bowling alley?”

  Annabel nodded. “Yes.”

  “Would you believe that he’s a dad and a police officer?”

  “No way! Mr. I-am-never-gonna-do-what-society-asks-me-to? That Craig?”

  “Yes, I know, I couldn’t believe it myself at first.” Their laughter filled the quiet of the room. “How we’ve all grown from that summer.”

  Annabel flinched; it wasn’t a bad summer to begin with, although it had ended badly for her. For a moment, she became lost in the memories of hanging around in their little gang. Driving around the countryside or just taking trips to the beach. A loud squealing noise brought her out of her reverie; she looked automatically out the window.

  A passenger coach slid along the wet tarmac toward the petrol pumps. The driver frantically trying to regain control. Annabel began racing over to the window.

  “Marcus, look!” She pointed outside. They were feet away from it but encased in a cocoon of concrete and glass. What they didn’t know was how safe the structure was. Would it manage to stop the out of control coach? Had to, didn’t it? Panic filled her as she watched helplessly as the accident unfolded before their eyes.

  “Oh God,” was all Marcus said to her. It was like a slow motion movie. A large articulated lorry pulled blindly out in front of the coach.

  Screams resonated around the building; the noise of the screeching tires became unbearable. Annabel covered her ears with her hands. There was nothing they could do but stand and watch and wait. The lorry swung around much too quickly, hitting the coach sideways on, carrying it forward toward the building. When the tail end of the lorry caught the fuel pumps, petrol flew up into the air like a fountain, washing the floor, cars, and petrol station on the way back down to earth. The putrid stench of petrol hung heavily in the air.

  “We need to do something, Marcus!” Annabel screamed.

  “Do what? I may be strong, but even I can’t stop a moving coach or a HGV!”

  Annabel stayed by the window watching, waiting for what came next. The screams grew louder. They sounded so far away like she was in a tunnel, yet her eyes told a different story. The coach was nearly on top of them, squealing brakes as the two vehicles inched toward them.

  “Annabel, move!” She heard someone in the distance scream her name. But Annabel found that her feet were rooted to the spot, she couldn’t leave, couldn’t take her eyes off the coach.

  Chapter Four

  “Move now!” Marcus grabbed Annabel by the hand, dragging her to the far end of the café. “Annabel!” Marcus shouted as he threw them both on the floor, his body protectively over hers.

  A thunderous crack broke through the screams as shards of broken glass flew through the air like bullets out of a gun, landing anywhere they could. The coach inched further into the café, its brakes no longer doing what they should. The coach crashed into the stone pillar in the middle of the café. Finally, both the coach and the lorry ground to a halt.

  “Marcus, you saved us.” Her voice came out shaky and unsure.

  Marcus looked at where they had been standing. He had moved them just in time.

  “It’s okay, sweets. You’re okay.” He held her tightly to him. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. Large pieces of concrete fell from the ceiling above them. Lights flickered on and off before crashing to the ground, sending sparks flying in every direction. A sandstorm of dust clouded their vision; Marcus was knocked to the ground by a piece of falling masonry. The screams grew louder and louder. People desperately called for help. The noise was deafening, but silence would have been worse.

  ****

  “Annabel,” Marcus called to her from somewhere in the darkness.

  Annabel picked herself up off the floor, her visibility impaired by the thick blanket of dust. A warm liquid snaked down her face. Wiping it away, she brought her hand toward her, trying to see what it was. All she could see was that it was dark, likely blood. Hopefully not a large cut. “Marcus. Where are you?”

  She heard a groan. “Here, I’m okay.” Marcus’s voice broke through the blackness like a reassuring light.

  Kneeling on the floor, she tried to feel for him. “Keep talking so I can find you.”

  “Annabel, don’t worry about me, the people on the coach!”

  “I’ll need you to help.” Annabel reached out and finally found him. “Can you stand?”

  “Course I can stand. Honestly, woman. I’m not hurt. I only fell over.” Marcus tried to lighten the mood. But now wasn’t the time for his daft jokes. He grabbed Annabel’s hand as they both stood together holding the other for support. Her whole body shook with fear. Reaching behind her, she felt her backpack. A good job I didn’t take this off. I would never have been able to find it again.

  “Come on. We’ve got to help.” Her voice stern, the sort that made all the nurses on the ward do exactly as she said. “Marcus, go and find the waitress. I’ll go to the coach.”

  ****

  Marcus liked how assertive Annabel was being. She was definitely a different person to the one he had known. “Be careful, my Anna.”

  Where the hell had that just come from? She wasn’t his Anna anything. Marcus, keep your mind on the task. He was hindered by all the debris that was once a café. Tables and chairs were strewn around, and live wires hung down from the ceiling sparking intermittently.

  Marcus shouted out, “Waitress, where are you?” A muffled voice seemed to come from behind the upturned counter. That sounded bad, but he didn’t even know her name.

  He moved chairs and tables out of the way as he climbed through the devastation. Ignoring the searing pain shooting through his body, Marcus peered behind the counte
r, the waitress who had served them earlier was huddled in the recess. She didn’t look hurt, but her whole body was shaking. “Take my hand. You’re all right.”

  Marcus inched forward, but his movements caused more concrete to fall from the twisted remains of the café roof. “Come on, we need to get you outside.”

  “My café?” the waitress said.

  Okay, so that was the last thing Marcus thought she’d say, but the poor woman was in shock. He had no idea if they would be any safer outside than in. The river of petrol by the pumps could go up any minute, especially if someone was stupid enough to light a match. He had signed up for a charity bike ride, and now here he was playing a hero.

  “There’s nothing we can do. We have to go.” Marcus grabbed the woman and pulled her to her feet. The sheer effort was too much, and he fell to his knees doubling up in pain. Quickly, he rose to his feet. He had to stop thinking about himself and help the others. Marcus had a vague idea where the front of the café used to be, but the dust and debris and two mangled vehicles made visibility virtually impossible.

  “My café.” The poor woman kept repeating herself, and even as he held her hand, he could feel her shaking with fear.

  “Annabel?” Marcus shouted. There was no answer; most of the screaming had stopped. “Annabel?”

  “Is that the girl you were with?” the waitress asked.

  “Yes, she’s a doctor.” Marcus squeezed the waitress’s hand for no real reason other than reassurance. Twice he had called out to her, and twice there was only the sickening silence. She has to be okay. Where was she? Marcus was suddenly filled with dread; it was too quiet. Was she hurt? Had a piece of concrete fallen on her too? No, Marcus, you have to think clearly. She is all right. Anna is somewhere in this mess. It was becoming too hard to think through the thick fog of pain descending over him.

  “Mister, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Marcus snapped. No, he wouldn’t be fine until he had seen Anna. “We need to call 611.” Marcus couldn’t believe that a quick brew at a service station had turned into a rescue mission. It was like something out of a disaster movie from Hollywood. The situations were usually great entertainment, but this was real. People were hurt.

  Marcus and the waitress stepped over the twisted metal of the window frame and out into the fresh air. “What’s your name, miss?”

  “Kristy. You are?”

  “Marcus.”

  “Thank you, Marcus.”

  Her thanks seemed heartfelt, but before he could say anything else they were surrounded by a mass of people. “Has anyone contacted the emergency services?” He looked around at the blank faces. What the hell had they all been doing, standing like statues waiting for someone else to do it for them? He had no idea who was saying what. Everyone talked over each other.

  Then the chatter started, and that was enough to get him mad.

  “Enough,” Marcus shouted holding his hand up. “There’s people trapped in the coach and the building.”

  Everyone stood around not moving but talking about what had just happened. Maybe some were in shock. They had blank expressions on their faces.

  Several men suddenly shouted, “On it, boss,” as they wandered into the devastated building that he had just come from.

  So that is what it took, someone to take charge, just like Annabel had with him. There were so many people walking around with cuts to their faces. He didn’t know what to do with them, but at least a few cuts were manageable, and they could tell their children and grandchildren how they got them. The ones walking were the least of his worries. The driver was still in the truck and needed help.

  He watched as the three men he had sent to help Annabel wandered off in her direction. Marcus went to the truck. The cab end was buried inside the building whilst the cargo it had carried was strewn all over the car park. He didn’t notice at first, but then to his horror, he realized they were gas canisters. His eyes darted toward the petrol station. Shiny liquid crept silently along the tarmac.

  They had no equipment and no real medical supplies, only what Anna had packed. He recoiled at the memory of him telling her she wouldn’t need it. I hope whatever you have in there will be enough. Pulling out his mobile, he dialed the emergency services. “Which service do you require?” asked a posh voice on the other end of the call.

  “What do you mean, which service?” Marcus paused a minute to try and compose himself. “There’re people injured, the place could go up in a ball of flames at any moment, and you ask a stupid question.”

  “Could you please tell me what has happened?”

  “A HGV truck has collided with a passenger coach. The coach is now in the middle of a café, and there is petrol spilling from the petrol station.”

  “Okay, help is on its way.”

  After he gave directions to the service station, the phone died.

  Marcus went back inside the collapsed building. Inching his way to the cab, he hoped the driver would be okay. What if he wasn’t? Marcus didn’t know what to do. You can’t save anyone, Marcus. You didn’t help Emily. A voice in his head mocked his inability to help his own daughter, stopping him in his tracks. He had to put any melancholy thoughts to one side and help however he could. Once he had done this, he needed to move those gas canisters before they ignited. The whole place would go up then. He banged on the cab window. “You all right?”

  A groan was all the reply he got. Pulling on the door handle wasn’t getting him anywhere. He looked around him. He needed something anything to pry the door open. He couldn’t risk doing it from the passenger side, live cables hung down on that side. Marcus grabbed the nearest piece of metal and began jimmying the door. It was hard work as beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

  The door suddenly gave way, sending Marcus to the ground. After picking himself up, he yanked the door open. “Sir, are you all right?”

  The truck driver just looked at him blankly. “What happened?”

  “You’ve been in an accident. We need to move you outside,” Marcus replied kindly.

  Marcus checked the man the best he could. He didn’t look like there was anything wrong with him, except the cut on his head. Though the driver was in shock, Marcus felt it was safe to move him. Better than staying in an unsafe building about to explode from gas. “Come on,” he stated as he undid the man’s seat belt.

  ****

  Annabel had no idea where Marcus had gone as she tried to smash the coach’s door, single-handed, Marcus was never there when she needed him. Men, honestly. She could see the driver slumped over the steering wheel and people writhing around on seats. It didn’t look good. She had to get in and help.

  “Miss, do you need our help?”

  Annabel was grateful to see the three men. “I need that door off now.”

  “Stand back, miss.”

  She watched as the men grabbed the nearest piece of concrete and pounded on the glass. Annabel tried to tell the passengers to get down, but half of them looked too terrified to move. Finally, after a few minutes, they had broken their way through. Annabel gingerly climbed through the hole. A sharp pain pierced her arm as a shard of glass impaled her coat, holding her fast.

  A trickle of her own blood ran down her arm. “Wonderful, just what I need.” Shrugging off the pain, she entered the coach. A lot of the people presented with just cuts and bruises. The passengers at the back gave her more concern. They were too quiet, and the driver of the coach lay slumped over the steering wheel.

  Annabel turned to the men that had helped her. “Look, can you help the passengers with just cuts and bruises get off the coach? I will try and see what the others need.”

  “Sure thing,” came the reply.

  Annabel walked straight to the rear of the coach. The two passengers at the back had been crushed against the seat in front of them. Neither moved when she talked to them. Taking off her backpack, she then took out her stethoscope and checked to see if they were still breathing. Adrenaline had kick
ed in as she worked on them both, giving morphine, and placing oxygen masks over their faces, tucking the small oxygen bottles on their knees. She couldn’t do much more than wrap their wounds up and try and to stop the bleeding she could see. It was more likely that they had internal damage to their bodies.

  “Can one of you see if the fire brigade are here? These two need cut out.”

  Relief flooded Annabel as all but the three passengers walked unsteadily off the coach and toward the shattered remains of the window. Turning her attention to the driver, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

  “Anna!”

  “Marcus, you’ve got to help me try and get the driver off. He’s unconscious and, apart from a cut on his head, doesn’t seem injured.”

  Marcus complied and helped Anna lift the driver off the bus, laying him down on a cleared bit of surface. There would be nothing to do but sit and wait for the paramedics and fire brigade to come and sort these people out.

  “Anna, you look so tired.”

  “I am. Early start this morning and now this. Some charity ride I set going.”

  “It was a great idea,” Marcus replied. “Look, perhaps you can tell me more about what’s been going on over at the hospital?”

  “Yes, when we’ve sorted this lot out. I’ve no idea if there is anyone else in the building.

  “I will go check; you stay here,” Marcus ordered.

  Annabel thought back to the Marcus she had met that summer. He would help anybody out, but his main passion were his bikes and they came first. She remembered he had once said if he had a choice, a woman or a bike, he would choose a bike every time. She had always wondered why that was.

  The loud noise of sirens interrupted her thoughts. The cavalry was here. Annabel was relieved. She had one bandage and a tube left out of all the supplies she had brought. She could help them if they needed her to, but hopefully, there would be enough paramedics to sort everyone out.

  Marcus came back to her a few moments later. “I can’t find anyone, but the amount of concrete that’s fallen in here makes it hard to see. There are loads of people outside. Maybe there was another way out.”