The Bucks Stop Here. Jim Parton
man normally too exhausted to do anything but sleep in one, and still clinging to the vain hope of luring Rika into it. It would take about a month to dry.
There is a myth that Orientals are inscrutable. Rika speaks very good English, particularly when roused, and handles certain idioms very skilfully. I think she caught the mood of the occasion perfectly when she described me as a ‘Fucking idiot’.
None of the women were of the tough outward-bound variety, so I realised it was in my interests to suggest that they spent the night in the local auberge while we men sorted things out. Chip volunteered to help them with their bags and skis.
The temperature inside had crept up to about three degrees Celsius, enough to melt the plug of ice leading to system draining tap G, but not exactly what was needed after a vigorous day’s exercise in the cold. Still, Niall is a genuine Scotsman from a cold bothy in the Highlands and as team leader I had no choice.
We had supper at the auberge; Chip and the girls looked refreshed after long baths. Then it was early to bed having scotched a move by Chip to ‘kick butt’ in a disco.
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