A Man Like Him. Rachel Brimble. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Rachel Brimble
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Superromance
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472016621
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opened her eyes and stared ahead at the tiled wall. Chris Forrester.

      The surname seemed familiar and not just because of the hundreds of guests who had passed through the park over the two years she’d been there. She knew of another Forrester. She was sure of it. Angela shook her head, the recollection escaping her. Turning off the shower, she stepped out and wrapped a towel around her hair, another around her body.

      The familiarity of his name continued to badger her consciousness as she dried off and pulled on a pair of pajamas. Ten minutes later, with the rain still lashing against the window, Angela walked into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. There was little chance of sleep until the rain eased off. Time for a trashy novel and a cup of tea.

      The kitchen clock showed eleven-fifteen.

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE FORCE OF the pounding on the trailer door jolted Chris from sleep. He sat bolt upright, his heart racing as he looked left and right around the small unfamiliar bedroom. What the hell was that?

      “Evacuation! Evacuation! Grab what you can and hurry to the camp clubhouse. Hello? Anyone there? The park is flooding. You need to leave. Now.”

      The screaming outside the door was manic, frenzied. Flooding? Adrenaline shot through Chris as he fumbled from the mess of sheets wrapped around his arms and legs. He must’ve misheard. Leaping from the bed, he cursed as his toe hit its wooden frame. He felt along the walls in the semidarkness and stumbled into the kitchen. Flicking on the overhead light, he squinted against the brightness. The neon clock on the stove showed just after two.

      He unlocked the door and his breath caught as he gripped the door frame. “Jesus.”

      The rain came down in sheets. A moving gray mass against a pitch-black sky. The continuous blare of the park’s emergency siren and people’s screams filled the air, sending his pulse into overdrive. Chris stared in disbelief, his body immobile. Families with young children, of no more than seven or eight, waded through water that reached the adults’ knees. Toddlers cried on their father’s shoulders. Dogs lay silent in their owner’s arms, ears flat.

      Chris looked toward his feet. Illuminated by the light spilling from the kitchen, the water had already reached the steps below the door, swirling fast and unwelcome in a red-brown torrent. His lifetime love of water diminished. This wasn’t a swimming pool but most likely the result of the river adjacent to the park breaking its banks. The park was situated at the very bottom of the surrounding hills. They were trapped in a damn sinkhole, miles from the beach and with nowhere for the water to escape.

      Chris slammed the door and squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to focus. The rain thrashed down in all its cold and heavy destruction. It would rise quickly and dangerously contained within a five-or six-mile circumference. There were houses, shops, parks...a school. He needed to do something, anything, to help. He was a strong swimmer, an instructor, a trained lifeguard.

      He snapped his eyes open and tried to shove away the heavy sense of foreboding stealing through him. Water was unpredictable. It gathered strength and power quickly, making it one of nature’s most dangerous destructors. People were going to die. Mothers, children...

      Tightening his jaw, Chris sprinted into the bedroom. Fully awake and alert, he pulled on shorts, sneakers and a T-shirt. His mind whirled and his pulse thumped an erratic beat at his temple. The telltale warning of an impending disaster swam icy-cold in his blood as the rush of the water and the screams of people outside echoed inside his head.

      He hurried into the kitchen and grabbed his backpack from a storage cupboard. He filled it with water and fruit, scissors, tape and a basic first aid kit from a shelf above. Tossing the strap over his shoulder, Chris took a deep breath and reopened the door. The steps had vanished.

      * * *

      ANGELA STARED AT the chaos around her. Within forty-five minutes, the entire world had gone insane. The water curled around the hundreds of screaming and shouting people struggling to escape in their panic. Danger whispered at their backs, the noise like the roar of a giant as it chased them. The swish of tires and the blaring of car horns pierced the air, sending the holidaymakers into a state of near hysteria.

      The frantic screeching of a woman ahead of her kick-started Angela’s stunned body into action. The holiday park was her life. Her refuge. She’d save it and these hundreds of people encased in a sealed bubble of terror. It would be all right. The rain would stop.

      People yelled the water was coming down harder and faster and Angela’s rising panic hitched up a notch. Her niggling fear that the day’s rain was shrouded in threat had become a reality. She faced her assembled staff, the panic in their eyes clear as a mirror into their hearts. She took a deep breath and threw open her arms.

      “Everyone, listen to me. We must remain calm. I want as many people as possible directed into the open-air dining area. The water will not rise above that level. It can’t possibly. It’s well over four feet from where the water is now.” She kept her shoulders straight, battling her fear into submission. “We must remain calm. We’re here to help the guests in every way we can. Please, do not endanger yourselves. Be careful. I want to see every one of you back here when this is over. Do you hear me?”

      She met their eyes in turn. They nodded. It would be okay. She would make sure they made it home safely to their families. She had to. She gave a curt nod.

      “Now go. I’ll see you back here soon.”

      The minimal staff she had at three in the morning scattered left and right into the burgeoning crowds. People came toward the clubhouse like a million drowned rats. She’d been the first person Yvonne roused from bed. That was two hours ago. Angela had immediately left her house and sped back to the park. Its location was advertised as “quaint,” “secluded,” “quintessentially English”—now it offered zero escape.

      Anger mixed with frustration had coursed through Angela’s veins when she’d leaped from her car and rushed to the office. The water had barely reached her ankles and the concerns about the boating lake had been just that...a concern. Now, this life-threatening situation loomed in front of her like an adversity on an impossible battlefield.

      Inhaling a deep breath, she shook off her fears and hurried forward to help an elderly lady who’d slipped in the deluge of bodies rushing to get past her.

      “It’s okay, madam. Everything will be all right. Here, take my arm.”

      The woman shook so badly Angela brought her other arm around her waist and practically carried her to a free seat. The chatter of people sitting at the tables was relatively calm compared to the chaos a few feet below. People would be safe here.

      She caught the eye of a mother cradling her two crying children on her lap on the other side of the table. “Could you keep this lady company for me? There’s so many—”

      The woman’s smile wobbled. “Of course. You go.”

      Nodding her thanks, Angela ran out of the dining area and down the steps toward the yellow brick road that snaked throughout the park from the reception to every single one of the six hundred trailers.

      She waded into the water. It reached just above her knees. Cold, relentless and completely unforgiving. Cars that had been heading out of the park moments before now lay abandoned and gridlocked like wrecks piled up in a junkyard. She frantically looked around, not knowing which way to turn. The crying and screaming of a young girl of six or seven broke through her manic thoughts.

      “Daddy! Daddy!”

      “It’s all right. It’s all right.” Angela lifted the girl into her arms and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Everything will be all right.”

      She turned and headed back up the stairs. People called out to their loved ones left and right. Children were hauled onto their parents’ backs and shoulders. The whole world looked soaked to the skin in despair. Angela’s leg muscles screamed in protest as she fought her way up the stairs and back into the dining area.

      “Oh,