Chapter 2

The sun had come out, and I guessed pulling in boats must be hot work, as he’d taken off his shirt. His sculptured, hairless chest was as deeply tanned as his arms and face. He was perfect. Every so often we’d swing near the boathouse, and I’d hear snatches of his tireless sales pitch—and laughter from the punters he was gently ribbing.

It didn’t seem like five minutes before that amazing voice rolled out over the water. “Number thirty-seven, your time is up. Come in, please, number thirty-seven, or I’ll be forced to deploy the torpedoes.”

We paddled back to the side to a chorus of “That wasn’t nearly long enough,” and “Can we go again, please?” I came to a snap decision. “Yeah, all right. I’ll pay.” I ducked away from Mum’s look of surprise and got out a couple of hard-earned pound coins from my Saturday job at HMV. “Think I’ll sit this one out, though.”