Diamonds Forever (Diamond Trilogy 3) - Page 64

‘No, it’s not that. It’s just … Oh, why would I expect you to understand?’

Jason, who was standing by the window, suddenly smacked the wall so hard it sounded like a pistol shot.

Jenna jumped up from the bed where she had subsided in despair.

‘No, right,’ he said tightly. ‘Why would I understand anything, eh?’

And he marched out of the room.

Before she could follow him, Jenna’s phone rang. It was her PR person. Damn it. She had to take this call.

Sighing, she clicked the button and said, ‘Yes?’

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.’

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