Page 39 of His Last Gamble

CHAPTER TEN

Payne headed west from the hotel, knowing the perfect scenic spot for their picnic. Every now and then he glanced across at Charmaine, wondering what she was thinking, and believing that now, at last, he had a pretty good idea.

The thing was, what should he do about it?

‘You’re quiet today,’ he observed, changing the sports car down into a lower gear as they toiled up a steep incline. ‘Nothing wrong is there?’

‘No,’ Charmaine said instantly. ‘What could be wrong?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Payne shrugged, and when she still didn’t speak, sighed quietly to himself. Well, he’d given her every chance to come clean. But since she seemed determined to keep on her chosen path, he had no choice but to follow her along it. But that didn’t mean to say he wasn’t going to influence the direction it took. Or throw up a few interesting diversions along the way!

As he parked up, the spectacular view of the wild, windswept coastline almost took Charmaine’s breath away. The spot he chose was a hollow in an open field, in the shelter of a large tree which kept them discreetly hidden from any other visitors roaming about on this part of the island.

Charmaine watched him take a large picnic hamper from the back of the car and then followed somewhat nervously. All around gulls and other inshore birds sang and called, while under her feet, wild flowers grew in profusion. She couldn’t see the ocean, but could both hear and smell it, its evocative presence a constant seduction.

Payne had tossed a fleecy red and black plaid blanket over his arm and now he flung it out, covering the grass and flowers, before slipping onto his knees and reaching into the basket.

‘I hope you like Buck’s Fizz,’ he said, bringing out a cooler. ‘I had the chef squeeze the oranges fresh from the tree this morning, and the Brut is from a friend of mine in France who always ships over a crate of his best every year.’

Charmaine sank down on the other side of the blanket and nodded. ‘It sounds wonderful,’ she said, and reached for a blade of grass and plucked it restlessly.

She was wearing a pale lemon summer dress in faux silk with a silver and blue geometric pattern. With her long fair hair falling loose, and her blue eyes bluer than the sky, she looked more beautiful than Payne could ever remember seeing her appear before — even when in full ‘model’ make-up and cutting-edge designer chic.

‘Let’s see — we have cracked crab and salad, little lobster patties, cold whole roasted quail and prosciutto and figs.’

Charmaine watched him take out cutlery and real bone china plates, and a couple of fluted crystal glasses, and couldn’t help but smile. Back home, a picnic meant a few sandwiches and a piece of cake! She sighed with pleasure as she bit into a ripe, juicy fig, and Payne watched her appreciatively as he dished up for them both.

‘There’s what looks like fruit soaked in kirsch for dessert,’ he said, delving back into the hamper, ‘and I think . . .’ he pulled off the lid of a sealed dish, ‘yes, apricot snow.’

Charmaine had no idea what that was, and when he glanced up and caught her wry smile, challenged softly, ‘What?’

She shrugged. ‘Nothing. It’s just that . . . well, you live in a different world.’ She waved a hand helplessly over the magnificent spread. Just how did she explain that all of this was like a dream?

Payne nodded, and pushing his plate to one side, sat forward and contemplatively leaned his forearms on his raised knees. He was wearing a pair of immaculately tailored beige slacks and a white and beige shirt. He looked too good to be true.

But right now, he was frowning slightly. ‘I know just what you mean,’ he said at last. ‘But it’s not really real, you know.’

Charmaine frowned in puzzlement. ‘What do you mean? Not real?’

Payne grinned across at her, his grey eyes thoughtful. ‘Did I ever tell you that I was born in what had once been a small mining town in Wales? No? Well, I was, and at least half the population were on the dole after the pits closed.’ He too reached down and plucked a blade of grass.

He’d never unburdened his soul to a woman before, but, surprisingly, he felt very little fear or unease. And yet, perhaps he wasn’t so surprised at that. Charmaine was like none of his previous women. And for certain, the same rules no longer applied!

‘I went to the local comprehensive school, which was understaffed, and pretty grim,’ he confessed, without drama or self-pity. ‘I left at sixteen, packed my bags and never looked back.’ He sighed. ‘I was young and had nothing to lose. Why not? I started backpacking around Europe, taking the odd job here and there, learning more about life than any A-level syllabus could teach me.’

Charmaine nodded, fascinated. Her own childhood had been a bed of roses by comparison. She’d always lived in the beauty of the English countryside, cushioned by her family, and had always been well taken care of.

‘It was interesting, and taught me a lot,’ Payne said, and something in his voice made Charmaine suspect that he was leaving out a lot of the harder realities.

‘And one of the things I learned was that I was lucky,’ he went on smoothly. ‘I mean, really lucky. It began by playing cards one night in this Italian youth hostel. I’d never really played cards before — not for money. Not seriously. But I won that night. Not a lot, just a can of Coke and the best bed in the dorm.’ He shrugged and smiled in remembrance, then tossed the blade of grass away. ‘After that I played again and again, and won far more often than I lost. I began to see it as a talent. Just like some people have a flair for cookery, or can sketch a perfect tree, I saw my luck at gambling in the same way. So, if people who can cook can train hard and become chefs, and people who can draw become artists or take courses to go into related fields like advertising or architecture, why shouldn’t I use my edge in exactly the same way? So I left Italy and headed for Monaco, my equivalent of Oxford or Yale.’

Charmaine stared at him curiously. ‘And what happened there?’

‘I got a job in the casino,’ Payne said. ‘I watched, and listened and learned. But never placed a single bet. Not the whole time I was there.’

Charmaine frowned. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I’d realised by then that I wanted to be more than an itinerant gambler. I wanted to gamble for fun, for pleasure, just to see how far I could push it. And I still do that, every now and then.’

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