Diamonds Forever

by Justine Elyot

  Deano Diamond nearly choked on his Old Fashioned.

  ‘What the …? Is that photoshopped? It can’t be real.’

  He turned to Lawrence Harville, who had showed him the picture on his mobile phone.

  ‘All too real, if you ask me,’ said Harville. ‘I’m sorry. It must be embarrassing for you.’

  Deano contemplated this thought. Embarrassing? Not really. Maddening? Yes. But also potentially grounds for optimism. Another scandal was exactly what Jenna didn’t need right now. Who was to say she wouldn’t welcome a little bit of support and … well … a nice feel-good story about a marital reconciliation might just be on the PR cards after all …

  ‘Embarrassing for her, more like,’ he said, looking around the cocktail bar as if he expected everyone to be staring at him and whispering about it.

  To be fair, everyone was staring at him, but then, they always did.

  ‘Shall we get out of here?’ he said, suspecting that the thing was about to go viral and wanting to be somewhere private when it did.

  ‘My place?’ suggested Harville. ‘I’ve got some paperwork about the talent show I’d like you to look over.’

  ‘Yeah, your place. Let’s go.’

  Driving from the smart cocktail bar in Nottingham back through Bledburn, Lawrence insisted on taking them through the estate. Deano wondered if he was trying to make some point about their respective birthrights, but he didn’t ask.

  ‘What are we doing here again?’ he asked, as they slunk past the parade of shops with its permanent residency of boys with beer cans and older guys with dogs.

  ‘It excites me to think that we could be on the verge of transforming this place,’ said Harville smoothly. ‘Giving hope to the hopeless. That’s what we’re doing here.’

  Harville wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing without him, thought Deano, his hackles rising slightly. And if he was doing it out of pure altruism, Deano would donate all his royalties to Battersea Dogs Home for the next ten years. Harville was the sort of person who wouldn’t lift a finger unless there was some personal advantage in it.

  But what did it matter? He was helping with the documentary, and he might be able to smooth a path back to Jenna. That was the main thing.

  The thought of Jenna made him think again of the photograph, of her face, of what she had obviously been doing, and with whom. He swallowed, trying not to kick a hole in the footwell.

  His attention was diverted when Harville began to slow down and crawl along the kerb.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ said Harville, sounding triumphant. ‘What have we here?’

  Deano followed Harville’s gaze to see a young man loping across the patchy grass to the miserable flats behind the shops.

  ‘Is that …?’

  ‘Our local artistic genius, if I’m not much mistaken,’ said Harville.

  ‘Jason Watson.’

  ‘The very man. Let’s invite him to join the party, shall we? Deano, would you do the honours? He’s taken against me, for some reason.’

  Deano, intrigued, was not averse to the suggestion. The chance to get Jenna’s lover and his rival in private seemed too good to pass up.

  He got out of the car and hurried, his too-fashionably-tight shoes pinching his toes somewhat, over towards the gloomy dustbin shed.

  ‘Jason, isn’t it?’ he called, before his quarry could press the doorbell of the flat he meant to visit.

  Jason turned around, his face dark with hostility.

  ‘Who wants to know …? Oh. It’s you.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Deano, feeling slightly foolish standing in this desolate spot in his expensively distressed denim and leather. ‘Deano. Sorry, we never did get a proper introduction, did we?’

  Jason just stared, making Deano’s scalp crawl with embarrassment.

  He pressed on regardless, holding out a hand.

  ‘Er, fancy a drink, mate?’ he hazarded.

  ‘I’ve come to see my mum,’ said Jason blankly. ‘And I don’t get what you’re doing here. Are you stalking me or what?’

  ‘No, just happened to catch sight of you … thought a chat might be nice … Y’know, man to man. Friendly, I promise. I’m always friendly.’ He looked around nervously. Some attention was coming their way from the direction of the shops. ‘Look, we’re about to get mobbed. Please?’

  He waved a hand at the waiting car.

  Jason shrugged.

  ‘What the hell?’ he said. ‘Might at least get a decent bevvy out of you.’

  He followed Deano to the car and climbed into the back seat behind him.

  Deano noticed that Harville had his head well down and he spoke in a gruff, unrecognisable voice once the doors were shut.

  ‘Shall I drive on, boss?’ he said.

  ‘Oh … yeah,’ said Deano, slightly confused by the chauffeur schtick, but supposing there must be rhyme and reason to it, given the bad blood that was meant to exist between him and Jason.

  Jason seemed oblivious to the man in front, obviously assuming him to be a hired driver. He was too interested in Deano himself.

  ‘So, what’s this about?’ he said abruptly. ‘Going to get me behind the bike sheds and duff me up for taking your girl off you? Is that it?’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Deano with an uncomfortable chuckle. ‘You know I’m keen to make this documentary. I thought perhaps you’d put in a word for me.’

  ‘No need,’ said Jason coolly. ‘I reckon she’ll do it.’

  Deano caught a breath. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘Well … she wasn’t exactly up for it, last time I saw her.’

  ‘No. It was the shock of you turning up like that. You should’ve given her some warning.’

  Deano nodded.

  ‘OK, it was a mistake, I see that. But you think she’s calmed down now?’

  ‘I think she’s worked out that the only way to get rid of you is to do this film,’ said Jason, with an edge of cruel satisfaction.

  Deano was pierced.

  ‘Ah,’ he said, pausing to try and regroup. ‘Get rid of me. I see.’ He took a breath and looked long and hard at Jason.

  ‘The thing is, Jason, she’ll never be rid of me.’

  Jason clenched his fists. Deano felt the exhilaration of combat fire up inside him.

  ‘The thing is, mate,’ said Jason, ‘she’s with me now.’

  ‘How long has it been? A month? Six weeks?’

  ‘Long enough.’ Jason’s voice was little more than a growl.

  ‘Long enough to forget twenty amazing years?’ said Deano. ‘That’s what we had. Well, eighteen. Nearly nineteen. All the same, a long time. Longer than six weeks. And you don’t forget something like what we had in six weeks. I can guarantee it.’

  ‘She ain’t forgotten the way you treated her,’ said Jason. ‘No way.’

  ‘I was an idiot,’ Deano conceded. ‘I lost sight of what I had. But I’ve got that sight back now, Jason. You’re a rebound job. She’s flattered – younger man, talented, good-looking, all that. But it doesn’t compare to twenty years of the most incredible rollercoaster you can ever imagine. Nothing could.’

  ‘Where’s my fucking drink?’ said Jason, suddenly punching the upholstery. ‘You said you’d get me one. Instead I’m getting fucking earache. Drop me off at this corner. I’m done.’

  ‘Go on, Jason, hit him. Hit him hard.’

  The voice came from the front seat, surprising both the back seat passengers.

  ‘I beg your pardon!’ exclaimed Deano, while Jason shouted, ‘Jesus Christ!’, having presumably worked out the real identity of the ‘chauffeur’.

  ‘I’m sorry, Deano,’ said Harville, steering the car around a corner and into a driveway. ‘I thought that’s what you were aiming for. And it’s a good idea. Might solve a few of our problems all at once.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be great for my face, though,’ said Deano, although he could see the value of Harville’s reasoning. Really, wouldn’t it
be rather satisfying to see this little upstart … this man who was cuckolding him … put away for assault? And after all, that was the kind of man he was. Council estate dregs. It was mortifying, to be replaced by such a … specimen.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing with this low-life anyway?’ exploded Jason. ‘Don’t you know about him?’

  ‘Oh dear, somebody can’t let bygones be bygones,’ sighed Lawrence, parking the car outside some kind of old vicarage that had seen better days. ‘Let’s talk over a few drinks, shall we? I’ve got the most divine single malt inside. I’m sure we can … thrash a few things out. Eh, Deano?’

  ‘He’s the local mafia,’ said Jason desperately. ‘Are you OK with that? Are you OK with that kind of company? Oh, of course you are, I forgot. Jenna told me you preferred hanging out with drug dealers to being with her. No wonder she’s all over me now.’

  Deano punched a fist into his open palm.

  ‘Now, now, boys,’ said Lawrence with a nervous laugh. ‘Let’s not get into the red and blue corners just yet. Nice and calm, nice and calm.’

  He opened the front door and led them into a mildewed vestibule, in need of some tender loving care.

  ‘It’s not what you’re used to, I expect,’ he said apologetically to Deano. ‘I’ve been having some property issues. Basically, I’m camping out until I can get the Hall back.’

  ‘Harville Hall?’ said Deano, in some surprise.

  ‘Well, the clue’s in the name,’ said Lawrence, taking them into a living room. A wood-burner was on the go and Deano looked around for whoever had performed this domestic task.

  ‘Oh, the boys are around somewhere,’ said Lawrence vaguely. ‘Out chopping wood, I expect.’

  ‘The boys?’ said Jason.

  ‘Friends. You know.’ Lawrence smiled in a manner that could only be described as fiendish and took a bottle from a shelf. ‘Do sit down. The furniture might be old but it’s clean and comfortable.’

  ‘I’m not drinking with you,’ said Jason, remaining on his feet.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry. I’m not partaking,’ said Lawrence, pouring a hefty measure into a tumbler. ‘I need to keep a clear head. Meetings later, that sort of thing. You artistes live according to different rules than we business types, though, or so I hear.’

  ‘Business? Dirty business,’ muttered Jason, but he took a tumbler and perched on the arm of a chair, looking guardedly at his company. ‘What do you want with me?’

  ‘You’ve heard my piece,’ said Deano, knocking back the whiskey.

  ‘Yeah, and I told you. Jenna’s not interested. She’ll do the film and then you can fuck off back to Hollywood.’

  ‘Manners,’ said Lawrence mildly. ‘Let’s all be gentlemen, shall we?’

  Jason stood up again.

  ‘What sort of gentleman behaves like you?’ he thundered. ‘You’re no more than a crook, Harville. You tried to attack Jenna. Yeah.’ He turned to Deano. ‘He never told you that, did he? Came back to the Hall after I was put away and thought he could do what he liked with her. If Kayley hadn’t been there …’

  ‘Kayley,’ said Deano, staring. ‘I like her.’ He put down his tumbler. ‘Is that true, Lawrence? What he just said?’

  ‘Rubbish,’ said Lawrence, but one of his eyelids twitched as he spoke. ‘Surely Jenna would have pressed charges, don’t you think?’

  ‘She didn’t want the extra publicity. She had enough on her plate. Besides, she thought the drugs stuff would be enough to send you down without her name being dragged into it even further. Pity the CPS didn’t come through on that one.’

  ‘Let’s not drag up the past,’ said Lawrence, struggling to maintain a level tone of voice. ‘We aren’t here to talk about me. We’re here for you and Deano to talk things through.’

  ‘Are we?’ said Deano. ‘You’re the one who wanted to bring him here.’

  ‘What are you thinking, Harville?’ asked Jason. ‘What’s the plan? Want to put the frighteners on me, do you, with your wood-cutting friends?’

  ‘Ah, yes, my friends,’ said Harville. ‘Do you know, I think I’ll go and look for them? It’s clear that my presence here isn’t helping at all. I’ll leave you two gents to it.’

  He left the room.

  For a moment, both Deano and Jason could do no more than look after him in bemusement.

  ‘I’m not sure I like that guy,’ said Deano contemplatively, once they heard a back door bang shut.

  ‘Well, I can’t criticise your taste,’ said Jason, calming a little now that Harville was off the scene. ‘He’s a prick.’ He took a draught of the whiskey and allowed himself a roguish half-smile. ‘And your taste in women ain’t bad either.’

  ‘Thanks. It used to be all right, anyway.’ Deano sighed. ‘To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing here any more than you do. I only agreed to go out for drinks with Harville to get away from my new agent. She’s driving me mad. And she’s made it pretty clear she wants the kind of relationship Jenna had with me. The A-list star couple. She wants that but she doesn’t really want me.’

  ‘Diddums,’ said Jason, walking over to the window and staring out. It had started to rain. ‘Still, you won’t be short of skirt, I suppose? Star-struck girls following your every move.’

  ‘Is she really serious about you?’ Deano sounded incredulous. ‘Jenna, I mean.’

  ‘Yeah, she is.’ Jason turned to face him. ‘I know. Doesn’t seem likely, does it? I’m just some loser from Bledburn and she’s … she’s what she is. But she’s the only person who’s ever … ah, forget it. You wouldn’t understand, and it’s none of your business anyway.’

  ‘She’s discovered you,’ said Deano. ‘And that’s Jenna’s thing – discovering people. So I can understand what she sees in you. That look in her eye that she gets when she’s really excited about a new talent – that’s what she has with you. She had it with me once.’

  ‘There’s more to it than that, though,’ said Jason after a pause. ‘After all, she spots a lot of talent. She doesn’t sleep with it all.’

  ‘She loved my talent and she loved the life it gave us,’ said Deano. ‘But once she saw that there was stardom of her own to be had, she lost interest in me. She stopped coming on tour with me – too many of her own commitments. She was chasing that LA dream every bit as hard as I was. Don’t let her tell you otherwise. And you’re a part of all that. The amazing new undiscovered talent. You’re fucking textbook, mate. Just don’t expect it to last forever.’

  ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ Jason slammed down his tumbler and bent towards the seated figure of Deano, his stance radiating menace.

  Deano held up his hands.

  ‘Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,’ he said. ‘But I’ve been there, remember. In the end, you last as long as your effect on her ego. When your success reaches a level where you can do without her – that’s when she loses interest. Watch and see.’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  Jason couldn’t look at him. He went back to the window, brooding; the insecurity that lay always just beneath his surface fully reawakened.

  ‘That’s not the way she sees it,’ he said eventually. ‘She told me you started shagging around because you couldn’t stand her making a go of her own career. You did it to get her attention. Sad.’

  ‘To get her attention, maybe,’ said Deano, but his voice was ragged with anger, despite his attempts to maintain a civilised veneer. ‘To get a bit of heat out of that cold, cold fish.’

  Jason swung around, his fists clenched.

  ‘Don’t,’ he warned. ‘Just don’t, OK?’

  ‘She’s got her hooks right into you, hasn’t she?’

  ‘If she was so wrong for you, why do you want her back then? Eh?’

  ‘Because there’s nobody else for me,’ hissed Deano, standing up himself.

  The pair of them squared up, eye to eye, nose to nose, Jason having a slight height advantage, Deano wiry and quick.

  For a few loaded seconds, violence
fizzed in the air.

  Then Jason stepped back and reached into his back pocket for his phone. Damn. He’d left it at the Hall.

  ‘Fuck it,’ he muttered. ‘I’m getting out of here. How far out of Bledburn is this place? I’m going to have to walk it.’

  ‘I’ve no idea where we are,’ Deano admitted, wandering over to the shelf in search of a top-up for his glass.

  ‘Jenna’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.’ He paused, chewing his lip. ‘I lost my temper and walked out,’ he admitted. ‘You probably don’t know about it yet, but you soon will. There was a bit of a problem with a photo going up on Facebook …’

  ‘I know,’ said Deano heavily. ‘Did you put it up?’

  ‘No. It was an accident. We were messing about with the phone and … anyway, I’d better get back.’

  But Jason opened the door to find a pair of heavy-set men in the corridor outside, accompanied by Harville.

  ‘’Scuse me,’ he said, but the men didn’t stand aside.

  Come to think of it, he recognised them. He’d seen them around the estate. They did stuff for Harville – security and whatnot. His goons.

  ‘You can’t be leaving without saying goodbye, surely,’ said Harville, swanning into the room. ‘I don’t know. Coming to my home, drinking my whiskey … It’s true what they say about that estate, boys.’ He paused, looking Jason in the eye. ‘Scum, the lot of them.’

  ‘Yeah, well, it runs in the family,’ said Jason, wishing immediately that he hadn’t. Harville looked puzzled, but he didn’t pursue the reference.

  Instead he ushered his goons into the room and shut the door behind them all.

  ‘Look, Lawrence, I ought to be getting back,’ said Deano, his expression uneasy. ‘Parker and the guys will be going crazy. She hates it if I even go to the bathroom without my bodyguards, let alone …’

  ‘Oh, just another ten minutes, please,’ said Lawrence. ‘And help yourself to whiskey. I got that in just for you. I read it was your favourite.’

  ‘Thanks, but …’

  ‘Ten minutes.’

  Deano flicked his gaze from Lawrence to the goons to the whiskey bottle.

  He plumped for the bottle and poured from it, shaking his head.