‘What are you on?’ moaned Jason, trying to tough his way past the goons, but they took hold of his arms, preventing him from moving.
Deano drained his drink, looking as wary as a man who had just downed four-and-a-half measures of a strong single malt possibly could.
‘I don’t like this,’ he said. ‘It’s dodgy. I see your reasoning though. Thanks for thinking of me, but …’
‘Think about it,’ entreated Lawrence.
‘You want me to let Jason rough me up? I don’t want to get roughed up.’
‘And I don’t want to do it either,’ contributed Jason, though he sensed he would have little choice in the matter if the balance of Deano’s decision was tipped the wrong way.
‘Of course it’ll involve a little bit of discomfort,’ said Lawrence. ‘But think of the advantage. Think of the amazing press you’ll get too. It’ll be great for album sales. Jenna will run back to you with open arms. Everything in the garden rosy again.’
‘And what’s in it for you?’ asked Deano, frowning.
‘She rides off into the sunset with you and I get my home back,’ he replied promptly. ‘Not to mention the collateral pleasure of revenge on this little turd.’
Jason was dismayed to see that Deano appeared to be giving the proposition his serious consideration.
‘He’s mental,’ he blurted. ‘Don’t do it. He doesn’t care about you, or Jenna, or any of us.’
This seemed to kick-start Deano’s moral compass.
‘No, he’s right,’ he said. ‘It’s too risky. Too much could go wrong. And no guarantee Jenna would fall for it either. Sorry, mate, but I’m out.’
The goons closed ranks.
‘Are you sure about that?’ asked Lawrence, his voice silk laced with poison. ‘You see, I’ve been talking to your friend Parker. In fact, more than talking. I sold her some of her favourite nice white powder, for you and her to share tonight. And I happened to carelessly leave my phonecam running while I did it.’
There was a stunned silence.
‘You did what?’ said Deano weakly.
‘There’s footage of Parker taking the stuff off me – and the conversation makes it very clear what it is and who it’s for. In fact, she tells a delightful anecdote about you snorting it off her breasts one night. It would make any tabloid journalist worth their salt scream for joy. And I know a few journalists …’
‘Why would you even …?’
‘It’s the Harville code,’ said Lawrence, grinning. ‘Always make sure you have something on everyone. Even if you can’t see how you’ll use it to begin with. Insurance. It’s my business.’ He tapped the side of his nose.
Deano, summoning some bravado from somewhere, laughed.
‘And do you know what my business is, Harville? I’m a rock star. I booze, I shag around, I snort a few lines. It’s expected of me. Who exactly are you expecting to shock with this?’
‘Your friend Parker, presumably,’ said Harville without missing a beat. ‘But you don’t mind sending a lamb to the slaughter, I suppose?’
There was a silence. Harville’s point had hit home.
Deano sighed.
‘Maybe you’re right,’ he said. ‘Maybe it’ll help my cause with Jenna.’
‘That’s the way to see it,’ approved Harville. ‘A moment of pain for a lifetime of gain.’
‘But if I do this,’ said Deano hotly, ‘that’s it. You’re out of my life. No coming back for more favours. You delete the stuff with Parker off your phone and we start again, as if we’d never met.’
‘Ground zero,’ said Lawrence, nodding earnestly. ‘For all of us.’
‘Are you having a fucking laugh?’ said Jason desperately, struggling with his captors. ‘This is insane.’