Page 43 of Right Place, Right Time
I nod. ‘Not one of her more well-known novels if you’re not a Christie fan.’
‘Usual cover on the outside, but inside, no book, only more notes. I’ve already shown youA Tale of Two Cities,so next isThe Three Musketeersby Alexandre Dumas, thenThe Sign of Fourby Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.’
As he puts each book down in front of me, I quickly open the cover to find the similar diagrams, equations and handwritten notes in each one.
‘A couple of children’s classics next – which again took me a while to find, because I wasn’t looking for children’s books to begin with.Five Children and Itby E. Nesbit, andNow We Are Sixby A. A. Milne. Then we haveSeven Pillars of Wisdomby T. E. Lawrence.Around the World inEighty Daysby Jules Verne – that was one of the last ones I found – the eight disguised in the eighty really threw me off the scent. And, finally, in a similar vein,The Thirty-NineStepsby John Buchan.’
‘I can’t believe you found all these books on your own,’ I tell him, looking at the pile in front of me. ‘I’m seriously impressed by your literary knowledge.’
‘Thanks. I had a little help from Google, of course, but I nearly got them all.’
‘So what are we missing?’ I check the books again. ‘Just numbers ten and eleven?’
‘Yep, they’ve got me stumped.’
I think for a moment. ‘Ten … ten …’
‘I couldn’t think of one,’ Adam says. ‘Not what I’d call a classic anyway. Titles with ten in them are nearly all modern books.’
I look at the books on the counter again. ‘These are all old books, aren’t they? When they were published, I mean. What’s the newest – the Agatha Christie?’
‘Yeah, I think so,’ Adam says, looking at the books again.
‘Hmm …’ I say, trying to recall classic novels. ‘Nothing is springing to mind for me either.’ I begin to run through some classic authors and the titles of their books – Dickens, Austen, the Brontë sisters … ‘Wait! I might have one …’ I say, as a title pops into my head. ‘I’ll be right back!’
I rush downstairs and search the shelves, and, just as I hoped, I find it. ‘I have it!’ I tell Adam as I breathlessly enter the kitchen again brandishing a hardback copy of a book.
‘What is it?’ Adam asks with his brow furrowed. ‘You’ve done better than me if you’ve found our missing ten.’
‘TheTenant of Wildfell Hallby Anne Brontë!’ I say triumphantly, like someone giving the right answer on a television quiz game. ‘And it has all the handwritten notes again like the others do.’
Adam takes the book from me and thumbs quickly through it.
‘Amazing! Well done. Now if you can come up with the answer for our missing eleven, we’ve got the full set.’
I think again for a few moments, but infuriatingly nothing springs to mind.
‘No, sorry. I’ll have to come back to you on that one. I can’t think of anything off the top of my head.’ I look at our pile of books. ‘So, what are all these notes that have been written inside? Can you understand them?’
‘I think from my limited knowledge and memory from school, they might be physics equations. There’s talk of relativity and mass – those names ring a bell from science classes.’
‘They do for me too. But science wasn’t really my thing at school either. I do know who might be able to help us, though – Barney. He works in physics at the Cavendish Laboratory!’
‘So he does!’ Adam says keenly. ‘Shall we go and show him the books when we’ve drunk our coffee?’
‘Worth a shot. But I must insist on something before that.’
‘What?’
‘You have a shower and get dressed first?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Adam says, running his hand through his ruffled hair, making it look even more dishevelled instead of tidier. ‘I completely forgot in all our excitement. I must look like a right mess!’ He grins apologetically and pulls a sort of puppy-dog expression asking for forgiveness. ‘You stay here. I’ll be right back.’
‘No need to apologise,’ I murmur under my breath as Adam jogs off, presumably towards the bathroom. ‘No need at all.’
Seeing Adam in his nightwear looking dishevelled and a bit sleepy this morning made, for some silly reason, my stomach do weird things and my mind go to places that I’ve been desperately trying to get it back from ever since. And now, seeing him run his hands through his hair like that has brought me right back to square one again.
Why is Adam so damn attractive to me right now? He really isn’t my type at all.
