Cut And Dried

Kidnapped (Sort Of)

Chrissie's POV

I could hear voices, so I tried to open my eyes and sit up at the same time, not a good idea, it felt as though I had drunk my weight in alcohol and been run over by a bus.

"Hey, hey there young lady you need to lay still and rest"
Came an unfamiliar voice.

As I eventually succeeded in keeping my eyes open after several failed attempts, I glance around the room, it didn't look much like a hospital to me, more like a luxury penthouse bedroom in some posh hotel.

Wait a minute that doctor bloke didn't sound like doctor Grahame, in fact he sounded foreign, American that's it he had the same accent as Brent, feeling brave I raised myself up on my elbows and squinted at the doctor.

"Where exactly am I and where's Doctor Grahame?" I ventured.

"Good you seem to be on the road to a full recovery quicker than expected, but still you need to rest and recuperate before attempting anything to strenuous"

"Yeah thanks, but where am I and where's the doctor who's supposed to be looking after me" I persisted.

"Oh doc Grahame's still in England and your in Brent's house"

"Oh okay" lounging back, then my brain that had been playing catch-up, suddenly caught up, shooting up in to a sitting position, I could barely keep my voice down.

"What do you mean he's in England, where the hell am I then, if not in England, did you say Brent's house, has he got a house in England, I'm not in England am I? Why am I not in England, do I need specialist care and that's why I'm not in England" I was suffering verbal diarrhoea at full volume.

"Woah easy Miss Wallace, you'll stress yourself out, no as you quite rightly said numerous times you are not in England your in LA in Brent's house recuperating"

"Why? Couldn't I recuperate in England then?"

"You really do have this thing for England don't you, anyway Brent thought you would be better off here than at home with the press and all"

" Well, Mr whoever you are, the reason I have a thing for England as you so rightly observed is because I was born bred and lived there all my life, I tend to affectionately call it home.
So forgive me for getting a little stressed after passing out in England and waking up in America, it's only happened to me NEVER before and since when has Brent Simons been my boss or dictator, NEVER! That's when.
Now can you inform his highness that I'm awake, pissed and waiting for my return trip home to ENGLAND"

"Well he was right about one thing, you are certainly fiesty, I'll just go fetch him" and the guy fled the room.

A few minutes later there was a gentle knock on the door and Brent's head slowly peered round the door.

"Your awake and looking a lot better, I'm so glad, are you feeling better"

"Cut the crap Simons, what the hell do you mean kidnapping me and forcing me to come to America, now I'm a lot better, when can I go home, like in the next twenty minutes?"

"Chrissie's" he approached the bed obviously trying the I feel responsible for you look. "I felt you needed a break and to get away from the press and what better place to rest than here, plus I didn't kidnap you"

"So what do you call it taking somebody to another country without their consent, besides I don't need a break and if I did there are a lot of places in England I could have visited, so again I ask when can I go home"

"Look Chrissie, be reasonable give it a chance before you finally decide"

"How long" I growled.