“If you are ready, Miss, Sir?” he said very politely.
Chrissy stared at him for a moment before turning to Adam. “Is Charles your butler as well as being your chauffeur?”
Adam smiled. “Charles is my butler, chauffeur, foot-man, cook, chamber-maid, and companion. He is the perfect gentleman’s gentleman.”
Chrissy shook her head and smiled in amazement. “Well, I’ll take my knickers off!” she exclaimed. “I’ve gone to sleep and woken up on the set of Upstairs, Downstairs!”
Charles coughed. “I beg your pardon, Miss, but in my opinion, I must point out that you would never be downstairs.”
“Shut up!”
That was the end of the tour of the house. Chrissy went back upstairs to the pink bathroom for a quick wash up, and Adam went to his own bathroom to do the same. They both met on the stairs on the way back.
Adam smiled at her. He seemed to do that often. “I make that thirty-one so far. I’m feeling rather confident.”
“Finland!” she snapped.
“The markka. Thirty-two!”
Chrissy didn’t rise to the bait a second time. “You’re a smug git, Adam Campbell!” she told him. “But if you think you can get me to rattle off all my chances in one day, then you’re sadly mistaken! I’m going to have a serious think about my last eighteen countries, and I’m going to win!”
When they returned to the dining room, Adam waited for Chrissy to be seated by Charles before taking his own seat next to her. Charles then served the food.
All through lunch, Adam made persistent but gentle hints about their wager, trying his best to get Chrissy to present him with further currencies to name. She steadfastly refused, and finally threatened to hit him with a silver serving dish if he didn’t keep quiet. Adam finally gave in, and the rest of the meal was accompanied by more pleasant conversation.
Chrissy noticed during the meal that the silver cutlery and the plates all had the same crest on them as she had seen on the iron gates and silver vases. This time she could see it more clearly. It was a shield with a chevron on it, like a corporal’s stripe. Below the chevron was a lion. Chrissy recognised it as the same lion that was on the England football team’s shirts. Above the shield was a knight’s helmet, and above that, another lion. On each side of the shield and helmet were leafy like scrolls. There were some words, but Chrissy couldn’t tell what they were. They were in Latin, and she resisted the temptation to lift up her knife and squint at it closer.
As they ate and chatted, Adam smiled at her constantly, a devious twinkle in his eye. He must know that she would notice. She would have to be thick or blind not to. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of explaining it all to her. No, if Adam wanted her to know he had a title, then he was going to have to tell her. She smiled back at him, and talked about something else.
When the meal was over, Chrissy and Adam moved into the lounge where Charles brought them coffee. Chrissy took the opportunity to go through her list. She produced a stub of a pencil and began crossing off the countries she had already named. Adam watched her carefully as she sat cross legged in one of the large easy chairs, her foot swaying gently. She was sat opposite to him, the coffee table between them.
“Are you confident, my darling?” he said, sipping his coffee.
She nodded without looking up.
“Are you confident enough to increase the stakes of our wager?”
“What do you have in mind?” Chrissy asked, still without looking up from her list. “Would you like me to stick a flower between my teeth while I’m wearing that red dress and sing ‘Ave Maria?’”
Adam laughed. “I see that Charles has been giving you advice. I might give him some advice in return, possibly on his P45.”
Chrissy uncrossed her legs and put down her list. She leaned forward to pick up her coffee. “That’s an idle threat. You’d soon starve to death without Charles to cook for you.”
“I am more independent than you think. But to continue. If you win, what would you have me do?”
Chrissy drank some of her coffee. She looked thoughtful for a moment, staring into space. “Hmmm…how about you invite all your work colleagues home one evening, and lie stark naked on that long dining room table of yours with an apple in your mouth? That way everyone will know what a male chauvinist pig you are.”
Adam put down his cup of coffee and roared with laughter.
“Excellent! Perfect! But in return your forfeit must be equally embarrassing! So, my dear, what shall I ask you to do?”
Chrissy shook her head and put down her cup. “I’m not doing anything.”
Adam was outraged. “But you must! I have agreed to your terms, so you must now agree to mine!”
Chrissy smiled wryly, still shaking her head. “You forget, Adam, I’m only nineteen. I don’t care what other girls my age might do, and I don’t know about the other women you’ve been out with, but if you win, and you have your evil way with me in your bedroom upstairs, then you will be my first. I think that’s enough, don’t you?”
Her words had a sobering effect on Adam. He immediately stopped laughing and became calmer. He nodded sombrely. “As you say, more than enough.” He paused a moment and sat forward, leaning towards her. “You must forgive me, Chrissy, but you are right. I forget your young age. But you are wise and intelligent beyond your years, and I maybe forgiven for being so forgetful. If you wish, as it is your first time, we can call off the wager right now, as equals. What do you say?”
He looked very serious and sincere. But Chrissy had already picked up her list again.
“Somalia.”
Adam tried again. “We could always play for the fun of it, with no forfeit or penalty?”
“Somalia?” Chrissy repeated, tapping her list with her pencil.
The smile returned to Adam’s lips. “You are magnificent; it will be a shame to beat you.”
Chrissy lowered her list. “Do I win, or are you going to give me an answer?” she said impatiently.
“Shilling.”
“Drat!” Chrissy drew another line through her list.
“Malawi.”
“Kwacha.”
Another crossing out.
“Paraguay.”
“The guarani.”
And another.
“Sod!”
Adam smiled at her distress. “Take heart, Chrissy! These are far better than I have been asked for quite a while!”
“Shut up! Bangladesh.”
“Excellent! The taka!”
“Git!” Another scribble. “Malaysia.”
“Ah! The ringgit! I know it well!”
“I’m going to ring your neck in a minute! Laos!”
“The kip! I make that thirty-eight!”
Chrissy struck through the two countries, scribbling away furiously. “I hate you! Burma!”
“The kyat!”
“Bastard!” she cried, and scribbled so furiously that the lead in her pencil snapped.
Adam immediately produced a pen from his pocket and held it out to her. “Do you wish to use my pen?”
Chrissy threw her stub of a pencil at him. Adam raised his hand to fend it off, and the pencil bounced off his hand and landed in his coffee with a plop.
Chrissy and Adam both leaned forward and looked into the cup, staring at the pencil bobbing about.
Adam looked up at Chrissy. “Will you get it or shall I?”
Chrissy also looked up. “It’s your coffee.”
“It’s your pencil.”
Chrissy sighed and picked the pencil out with her fingers. She dried her fingers and the pencil on a napkin that was on the tray with the coffee pot.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll get you another cup.” She stood up, stuffing her list and pencil in her pocket. “Where’s the kitchen?”
“Nonsense!” Adam said, also standing up. He put away his pen. “I’ll give Charles a buzz. It’s what he’s paid for.”
“I don’t pay him. Anyw
ay, you haven’t shown me the kitchen yet.”
Adam tipped his head in acceptance. “As you wish. This way.”
The kitchen was big and square with lots of modern units fitted against the walls. Everything was white and stainless steel. Charles had already stuffed the dish-washer, and it was humming quietly to itself. There was a large table in the centre of the room. On it was a vase with some flowers in it, a newspaper, and a portable television.
Chrissy gazed around. “Where do you keep your crockery?”
Adam indicated a wall-cupboard over a work-top. “Over here.”
They walked over to the cupboard. Adam leaned against the work top and watched Chrissy as she reached up to open the cupboard. Her jumper rode up as she stretched, revealing her stomach and navel above her jeans. Adam couldn’t help staring.
Cups similar to the ones they were using were on the top shelf. Chrissy had to stretch higher to reach one. Adam was just admiring the way the muscles on her stomach tensed as she stretched up for the cup, when her jumper rode even higher, and the bruising to her ribs came into view. They were quite vicious, and Adam was instantly concerned, and quickly reached up to take the cup for her.
“Here, let me,” he said quickly, his guilt at standing idly by and watching her causing him to blush a little.
Chrissy seemed annoyed. “I could have reached it!” she snapped.
“I know, but I worried about your ribs.”
“Oh, they’re alright,” she said, slipping a hand under her jumper to rub her side. A suspicious look crossed her face as she felt the height of her jumper, and she quickly pulled it back into place and snatched the cup from him.
“Voyeur!” she accused him. “I bet you had these cupboards mounted so high on purpose!”
She began to walk quickly back to the lounge without waiting for an answer. Adam hurried after her.
“I did not!” he protested. “And the sight of your bruises genuinely worried me. Are you sure you should have removed the bandages so early?”
“Yes! I’m fine! Don’t worry about me!”
They were in the hall outside the lounge when Adam grabbed her by the arm and spun her round.
“But I do worry about you!” he said. “I worry like hell!”
Chrissy was startled by his emotion. She didn’t reply, and she didn’t push him off either. She just stared into his eyes. Adam stared back. He was suddenly aware of how close they were; that they were nose to nose, and he didn’t want to let this chance slip by, so he kissed her. Chrissy responded and they quickly embraced, their arms wrapped around one another. The kiss was long and passionate, and Chrissy was pushed back against the wall. She dropped the cup and it bounced on the carpet.
When it was over Chrissy was even more startled. “That’ll cost you a country,” she said breathlessly.
“It was worth a continent,” Adam replied.
“I dropped your cup.”
“We’ll get another one.”
“You better let me go, then.”
Adam hesitated, then released his hold on her and stepped back. Chrissy stepped away from the wall, rearranging her jumper and brushing back her hair.
“Right, then,” she said and walked slowly back to the kitchen.
Adam picked up the fallen cup and followed her. Chrissy kept looking back at him as she walked along, as if checking that he was still following her. When she got back to the cupboard with the crockery in it, she stopped next to it and waited. Adam put the other cup in the sink and came over to her. She stared at him expectantly. Adam reached up to open the cupboard and retrieved another cup. He handed it to her and she took it.
“How long will you be staying?” he asked.
She poked him in the chest. “Only long enough to beat you!”
Adam smiled. “I admire your confidence. You only have eleven chances left.”
“Twelve!” Chrissy corrected him. “A country for a kiss! Remember?”
“Then make it thirteen,” Adam replied, and he leaned forward and kissed her again. As before, Chrissy didn’t resist.
It looked like another long kiss was going to develop. But as Chrissy was pushed back against the work-top, Adam suddenly felt her body stiffen. He immediately released her.
“Did that hurt?” he asked in concern, holding her shoulders. Chrissy looked uncomfortable as she rubbed her side. “It did, actually.”
“Are you alright now?”
“I think so.” She nodded. “Yes.”
Adam spoke to her sternly. “When you get home this evening, you get your mother to replace those bandages, do you hear me?”
She nodded again. “Alright, Adam.”
“You promise?”
“Yes!” Her response sounded a little irritated.
Adam relented. “That’s alright, then. Come on.” He took her hand and led her back to the lounge.
When she was safely sat down, he removed his half empty coffee cup and replaced it with the clean one she handed to him.
“I’ll be mother,” he said. He filled his cup then paused, coffee pot in hand. “Do you want a top up?”
She nodded. “Yes, please.”
He filled her cup, and then topped up both cups with cream. As he sat down, Chrissy pulled out her list again.
As soon as he saw it, Adam said, “We don’t have to continue with this. I meant what I said before.”
“Did you offer the same chance to any of those other women?”
“No,” Adam admitted.
“So why am I different?”
Adam looked thoughtful. He also looked unsure of what he was going to say. “I like you, Chrissy,” he started hesitantly. “I like your company, and I enjoy our conversations. I don’t want to lose you, and I fear that the end of our game will place a rift between us.”
Chrissy leaned forward and picked up her coffee. “Being a bit presumptuous aren’t you?”
“You have seen the computer in my office. The currencies of every country in the world pass before my eyes every day. I was unfair to enter this game with you, and your admission earlier has only reinforced that belief. We should stop.”
Chrissy stared at him. She knew somehow that he meant every word. But they had gone too far. “If we stop,” she said. “You will go on believing that you were going to win. And I will always believe that I was going to win. It will always be a point of dispute between us. We have to finish this, Adam, one way or the other.”
“And if the outcome does cause the rift I describe?”
Chrissy took a drink from her coffee. “You’ll forgive me. You have been beaten before, remember?”
“But will you forgive me?”
He looked so serious that Chrissy couldn’t help baiting him.
“No!” she said. “I’ll hate you forever!” When she saw his sad expression she quickly smiled and added, “I’ll get over it.”
Adam sighed and said, “You are most cruel.” He picked up his coffee and took a drink.
Chrissy waited for him to put his cup down, then she asked, “Have you still got that pen?”
Adam smiled. He removed his pen and handed it to her.
She took the pen and smiled back at him. “I’m going to beat you,” she told him.
“We shall see.”
“Thirteen left. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Chrissy glanced at her list. “Botswana.”
“The pula.”
“Ghana.”
“Cedi.” Adam’s smile grew broader. “My kisses are already paid for, my dear. Eleven.”
Chrissy crossed the two countries off her list. “Arrogant sod!” she exclaimed. “Tonga!”
“Pa’anga. Ten!”
Chrissy was amazed. “You bugger! How did you know that?”
“I told you, I know them all.”
She pointed at him with the pen. “I’m going to get you! Haiti!”
“Gourde! Nine!”
They grew more excited with each country. Chrissy sat for
ward as she scribbled away on her list. “Mauritania!”
“Ouguiya! Eight!”
“Sod you!” Scribble. “Panama!”
“Balboa! Seven! You’re going to lose, Chrissy!”
“I hate you! Mongolian People’s Republic!”
Adam’s eye’s widened. He suddenly looked perplexed.
Chrissy sensed victory. “Come on, Adam! Come on!”
“I’m thinking!” Adam said desperately.
“You don’t know, do you? I win!”
“Wait a minute!”
Chrissy stood up. “I win! I win!”
“Tugrik! It’s the tugrik!” Adam blurted out. He was on the edge of his seat.
Chrissy smacked her thighs. “Bastard!” she cried in dismay. “I was sure that was going to get you!”
Adam smiled conceitedly. “You are good, but not good enough. Six!”
Chrissy struck the country off her list. She remained standing.
“Smug git! I hate you! Thailand!”
“The baht! Five!”
“Bugger!” Chrissy stamped her foot. She scribbled furiously. “You’re not going to beat me! You’re not! Papua New Guinea!”
“The kina! Four!”
Chrissy screamed and stamped her foot again. “Swaziland!”
“Lilangeni! Still not good enough. Three!”
Chrissy jumped up and down. “Equatorial Guinea!”
“The franc! Two!”
Chrissy froze; her mouth and eyes wide open.
There was sudden silence. Adam’s face went white. He stood up.
“Guinea is the franc,” he said without emotion. “Not Equatorial Guinea.”
Chrissy’s voice was a whisper. “You got it wrong.”
“I answered too quickly.”
“I’ve won,” Chrissy breathed.
He nodded slowly.
Chrissy screamed. She jumped up and down and screamed and screamed and screamed. She threw her list and Adam’s pen into the air and ran out of the room.
“Charles! Charles! I beat him! I beat him!” she shouted as she ran to the foot of the stairs. “I’ve won! I’ve won! Come down, quick!” she screamed, jumping up and down.
The Look of Love Page 18