The Look of Love (21 page)

“Yes, in the
kitchen.”

Victoria
grabbed her arm. “That’ll do! Come on!”

So that’s what
they did for the rest of the night. They sat together on the sofa
and watched three movies, dipping into the packet of Kellogg’s
Frosties stuck between them. Even though Louise had seen all the
movies before, seeing them again with Victoria made her feel like
they were totally new. Victoria really got into each movie, and
before she knew it, Louise was crying along with her at the sad
bits of the romantic movies, and cheering with her when the hero
blew away the bad guys during the action movie.

They chatted,
laughed and cried together, fought over the tissues, nearly
finished the whole packet of Frosties, and drank hot-chocolate. And
when the night was finally over and they each went to their own
beds, Louise couldn’t remember a Saturday night she had enjoyed
more.

Charles arrived
to pick up Chrissy at eleven o’clock.

“Are you well,
Miss?” he asked as he held the car door open for her.

“Yes, I’m fine,
Charles. Thank you.” Chrissy climbed into the back seat and made
herself comfortable. She was wearing a red woolly jumper and blue
jeans. Her feet were clad in trainers.

As Charles
drove her away, Chrissy looked out of the window and saw the odd
curtain twitching.

“You’ve been
causing quite a stir with the neighbours,” she said with a
smile.

“I had noticed,
Miss,” Charles replied.

“It must be
driving them crazy. I’m sure I saw Mrs Hewitt from up the road at
her window with a pair of binoculars.”

Charles
laughed. “Some people aren’t shy about being nosy. It wouldn’t be
the first time I’ve had the Mercedes blocked in just so that
someone could ask me who I was driving for.”

Chrissy was
amazed. “The cheeky buggers! Does it bother you?”

“I used to feel
self-conscious when I first started, what with the uniform and
peaked cap and everything. But now I just shrug it off. I enjoy it
really. It makes me feel kind of important.”

“It makes me
feel important too.” Chrissy glanced around at the luxurious
interior of the car. “I could get used to this.”

“So could the
Marquis. I think he’s quite taken with you.”

“Yeah! And I
know which parts of me he’s taken with –did you say Marquis?”

“I did, Miss.
I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell him that I told you, but I’m sure
he will tell you in his own good time.”

“I bet he will!
When he thinks it will bowl me over! The secretive sod!” Chrissy’s
eyes narrowed as she stared at the back of Charles’s head. “Whose
side are you batting on, Charles?” she said sternly.

“Oh, yours,
Miss!” he was quick to reply.

“Yeah, I bet!”
Chrissy had learned to her cost to be suspicious. She wasn’t to be
taken in again. “So when did Adam suddenly become a Marquis?”

“When his
father, the fourteenth Marquis of Helmsley, died in 1989.”

“Where’s
Helmsley?”

“It’s in North
Yorkshire, Miss. Not very far from Pickering on the A170. I believe
there was even a castle there once, but the family hasn’t been
connected with the place for over a hundred years.” Charles glanced
at Chrissy in his rear view mirror.

“Don’t get me
wrong, Miss. Just because Mr Campbell has a title doesn’t make him
any richer, or less devious than you already know. If he makes the
fifty, he will expect you to honour your wager.”

“He won’t make
the fifty,” Chrissy said confidently.

“I hope you’re
right, Miss. Remember, it’s eight to one. And the only winner was
an American financier.”

“Yeah, yeah!”
Chrissy was unimpressed. “I might not be a whiz at money, but I
have a brother with a computer on the Internet.” She patted the
back pocket of her jeans. “I’ve got a list of countries and
currencies as long as the Eiffel Tower. He’s not going to find it
as easy as he thinks.”

“I hope so,
Miss. If I recall, you only have twenty-seven left, so don’t waste
them on countries with easy currencies. Anything with the franc is
out. That covers most of the African countries, in fact any country
with a colonial link with France.”

Chrissy hastily
pulled out her list from her pocket. “Oh, bugger!” she muttered as
she stared at it. Then her expression brightened. “Zaire doesn’t
use the franc!” she exclaimed.

“No,” Charles
replied without emotion. “That would be the zaire. Number Seven
tried that as her last go. If I remember rightly, she had to dress
up like some sixties pop star and sing ‘Puppy Love.’”

Chrissy stared
at the back of his head again. “Adam never said anything about that
sort of thing to me!”

“No, Miss. But
as the deadline draws nearer, the stakes often get higher.”

Chrissy slumped
in her seat, her arms by her side. “Why are you telling me this,
Charles?” she said in dismay. “Did Adam put you up to this? Are you
softening me up, or what? Come on, out with it!”

Charles smiled
broadly. “Mr Campbell only asked me to pick you up, Miss. I am not
involved in his wager with you, I promise you.”

“Then why all
the advice?”

“Because I like
you, Miss. And it would be far better for Mr Campbell if you
won.”

Chrissy was
confused. “You better explain that.”

“I told you
earlier that Mr Campbell was quite taken with you. And he is. He
talks about you often, and he has made a point of seeing you each
day since he met you. You are also very different from the women he
usually meets. Take Number Seven for instance. You would be
forgiven for feeling sorry for her, but you would be mistaken. She
was the daughter of some Earl. Very well to do. She was educated in
all the best schools, went to all the posh celebrity functions,
Ascot and fancy hats, the lot. Dreadful woman. Conceited, impolite,
just awful. She couldn’t have been much older than you, Miss, but
if she had been any more stuck up, she would have been inside out.
She couldn’t sing, either.”

Chrissy was
amazed. “Were they all like that?”

“No. One or two
were far less deserving of the treatment they received. That’s
another reason why I hope you win.”

“That still
doesn’t explain why beating Adam would be good for him.”

“That’s simple,
Miss. If he wins, you will become Number Nine, and his respect and
interest in you will diminish. The result would be that you both
lose. You would feel tarnished and bitter, and he will become
harder and a little more fixed in his ways. I would find that
rather sad.”

“And if he
loses?”

“If he loses,
well, it would be good for him to be put in his place for a change.
He’s too withdrawn, too remote. He usually doesn’t like his victims
and he expects to win. He needs somebody like you to turn the
tables on him. You never know, you could even become the next
Marchioness.”

Chrissy’s chin
dropped and she sat there with her mouth open.

Charles glanced
in his mirror and smiled at her.

“Don’t be so
surprised, Miss,” he said. “I told you that he really likes you,
and you must have noticed for yourself.”

Chrissy
couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Yeah, I knew he fancied
me,” she managed to say. “Adam never made any bones about that. But
marriage? We’ve hardly known each other for more than five minutes.
You’ve got to be kidding, Charles!”

“Not at all.
Take that bracelet he gave you. You think it’s expensive, but in
fact, it’s far more valuable than you think, certainly more
valuable than any gift Mr Campbell has ever given to any of the
other women, and certainly not on their first date.”

Chrissy
instinctively reached for her left wrist, but the bracelet wasn’t
there. Last night she had managed to sneak the bracelet passed her
mother and father by stuffing it and its box in the pockets of her
grey coat, and now it was safely hidden away in its blue box in her
dressing table. Now she wished that she was still wearing it.

“How expensive
was it?” she asked.

“It would be
un-gentlemanly of me to name a figure.”

“Be a rat. I
don’t mind at all. Name it.”

“Oh, I
couldn’t, Miss!”

Chrissy leaned
forward and prodded him on the shoulder. “If you don’t tell me I’m
going to cover your eyes with your hat and make you crash.” In
demonstration of her threat, she pushed his hat forward.

Charles quickly
replaced it with hardly a swerve to the cars path.

“Alright, Miss!
I give in!” he said hastily. “I wouldn’t want to deliver you to Mr
Campbell in a damaged condition. I’ll tell you only that it cost
more than this car, Miss. So don’t lose it.”

“You’re
kidding!” Chrissy exclaimed sitting back in her seat.

“No, Miss. And
I have to admit it surprised me, too. Normally, Mr Campbell is very
organised and consistent in his behaviour. The dates with his
ladies last no longer than it takes him to succeed in his quest.
The order is always the same. First date: Dinner. The second: An
Opera or a show, and maybe a gift to keep her interested. Not too
expensive, but not cheap either. The third: A society function. On
the fourth date the game is usually over and the young lady has to
pay her forfeit. You’ve broken that rule, Miss.

“I knew when he
spoke about you on Saturday morning that you were different. We
went out to buy the bracelet straight away, and he never stopped
talking about you all day. He was very excited about seeing you
again. He’s never met anyone like you before, Miss. You talk to him
straight, you’re not frightened of insulting him, and you beat him
up if he gets out of place. The result is that he likes you and
respects you, and deep down, part of him hopes that you will
win.”

Chrissy had a
sudden thought. “What did that American woman win?”

“Her
dignity.”

“Is that
all?”

“Well,
actually, it was a Porsche. But she left it embedded in Mr
Campbell’s greenhouse.”

Victoria was
still a little sore and bruised looking on Sunday, but she was
bright and cheerful. And she was also still looking forward to a
day out visiting. It seemed to contradict her doubts of the day
before, so Louise couldn’t help asking her about it.

“Are you sure
you want to do this so soon?”

“Yeah,”
Victoria replied eagerly. “I want to know everything I can. And I’m
bound to meet your friends sooner or later, so why not get it over
with now? Come on! It’ll be fun!”

They journeyed
into town after a late breakfast of coffee and toast, and got to
Sam and Dayna’s flat just before lunchtime.

Sam was a
little surprised when she opened the door. Not because of the
unexpected visit, but because of Louise’s unexpected and bruised
looking partner. It took her a moment to recover, and then she
smiled.

“Gosh,” she
said. “Can you smell the food from that far?”

“Do you mind?”
Louise replied apologetically. “We could come back another
time.”

“No, it’s fine!
We’re having the usual Sunday roast. Terribly conventional, aren’t
we? Anyway, there’s plenty of food and we could do with the
company. Come in.”

Sam opened the
door wide and they came in. Louise quickly introduced Victoria to
Sam.

Victoria said,
“Hi!”

And Sam smiled
and said, “Pleased to meet you, Victoria! I’ve heard a lot about
you.”

Victoria turned
to Louise and said in dismay, “Not another person who knew before I
did?”

Sam laughed and
closed the door. “Don’t worry; it’s not as bad as it sounds.” She
took their coats and showed them both into the lounge.

Dayna had come
out of the kitchen when she heard their voices. She put out her
cigarette as soon as she saw Louise and Victoria and exclaimed,
“Hiya, Lu! Who’s the battered babe?”

Victoria
quickly pointed at Dayna and said, “You have to be Dayna! Louise
said you were like a rabbit on Viagra!”

Dayna almost
choked in shock and Sam fell back against the wall in a sudden fit
of laughter.

Louise went as
red as a tomato. “I said no such thing!” she blurted out.

Dayna began to
chase Louise around the sofa. “I’m going to kick your arse,
Lu!”

There was no
place for tension after that. Introductions were obviously
completed once Dayna had caught Louise and wrestled her screaming
to the floor. Sam and Victoria had to prize them apart. Sam was
still laughing as she ended up on the sofa with Dayna in her lap,
and Louise and Victoria ended up on the floor together.

Louise was
still bright red and terribly embarrassed as they began to get
up.

“You did that
on purpose!” she said to Victoria, who was still holding on to
her.

“I know! Fun,
wasn’t it?”

“Not for me! I
feel terrible!”

Victoria hugged
Louise tightly. “No you don’t! It was just a laugh! Anyway, I’m the
one who has any right to be embarrassed or annoyed! It’s quite
obvious that they both knew exactly who I was as soon as they saw
me! Is there no one in Manchester you haven’t talked to about
me?”

“It wasn’t like
that,” Louise protested, calming down. She began to brush her
tangled hair back in place.

Dayna took her
cue to stir the pot. “It was! You were here every night telling us
how you wanted her!”

“I was not!”
Louise cried out in horror.

Sam quickly
shook her head when she saw Victoria looking at her and mouthed,
“No, she wasn’t.” Then she shoved Dayna off her lap on to the sofa
and said out loud, “Alright! Jokes over! Behave the lot of you!
Dayna, get back in the kitchen and make sure our dinner isn’t
burning.” Dayna hesitated, so Sam added, “Go on! The quicker we eat
the sooner you can start asking lots of naughty questions!”