"Archer, Geoffrey - The Burma Legacy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Archer Geoffrey)

"Okay," Sam grimaced. "Let the performance begin." Uneasily he
watched Midge pick her way to the bow and cleat on a line in the way
he'd shown her earlier in the day. Her hair was bunched in a pony tail and
she moved about, it flicked from side to side. She'd pulled on a clingy,
v-cut tee-shirt over her bikini top.
The sinking sun had burned a hole through the clouds. Sam squinted
to identify the marker posts at the ends of the pontoons. Spotting the
B for row B, he saw the Estelle six slots up, the name in big gold letters
her broad stern. Two males were on deck, busy with ropes. Two
lounged in chairs on the aft sun deck. Sam swung the boat into the
row, cut the revs and turned into the empty berth alongside.
"Port side to, Beth."
Midge looked baffled.
"Left side alongside," Sam explained.
She moved to the rail with the bow line in her hands as he eased the hull
against the finger pontoon, reversing the prop to prevent the bow
crunching the quay.
"Jump!"
She hopped onto the finger, yelping as it dipped under her weight. She
grinned sheepishly up at the bridge of the Estelle, then steadied herself and
took the rope forward to the main pontoon, staring down at the mooring
ring as if it were the most complex piece of technology she'd ever seen.
"Tie it anyhow, Beth," Sam told her, favouring his voice towards their
neighbour.
She fed the warp through the ring, then sat holding it, giving a good
impression of not knowing what to do next. Out of the corner of his eye
Sam saw the man they'd come to seduce step down from his boat.
"Give you a hand, darling?" Jimmy Squires" voice was like raked gravel.
"I'm so stupid with ropes," Midge simpered, handing him the warp.
The former SAS sergeant had curly fair hair, blue-grey eyes and a small
v-shaped scar on his left cheek. There was nothing obviously threatening
about him, but even bears looked cuddly, Sam reminded himself. He
watched to ensure the man knew what he was doing with the lines, then
cut the engine and stepped off the boat to secure their stern warp. As she
received her lesson in knots, Midge leaned forward to give Squires a look
down her front.
"I'm pretty new to boats," Sam heard her gush. "Haven't got the hang of
things yet."
"Anytime you want coachin', darlin" ..."
On the aft deck of the Estelle one of the women was plumpish, the other
as trim and pretty as Thai girls were meant to be. Sam gave them a friendly
nod, then climbed onto the foredeck to attach a second mooring line,
passing the end to the man on the pontoon.
"Reckon I owe you a beer for that," he said.
"Now you're talking . . ."
Sam went below, brought out a four-pack from the coolbox, then held
out a can to Squires.
"Steve and Beth."
"Nice to meet you." Squires took the beer and ripped off the ring-pull in
one smooth movement. "I'm Vince. The bloke up there . . ." He pointed to