Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend (34 page)

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Authors: Jenny Colgan

BOOK: Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend
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‘We could add glamour,’ Kelly was pouting.
 
‘Yeah, glamour and chlamydia,’ grunted Julius.
 
Kelly tutted. ‘That’s offensive, you know. I could report you.’
 
‘Be my guest,’ said Julius. ‘Right, spread your cheeks, I’m taking the pics from behind, Sophie can do the pretty face shots.’
 
Kelly obligingly bent over. ‘I could, you know.’
 
Suddenly Eck appeared at the door, looking excited. He was early to pick me up.
 
‘Hello, gorgeous . . . everybodies,’ he said. He still got a bit flustered around the girls, it was sweet.
 
‘I’m not ready,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to finish this.’
 
‘Julius, can I take Sophie?’
 
‘Hey, no,’ I said, a bit peeved. ‘This is my shoot, OK? It’s my work. I’ll finish it, then we can leave.’
 
Julius and Eck exchanged glances, but I didn’t care, and Eck took a chair at the back of the studio and pretended to be checking his texts whilst actually watching the girls the whole time.
 
‘Where are we going?’ I said finally, stepping out into the spring sunshine. The days were definitely getting longer, and it was raining less.
 
‘It’s a surprise,’ said Eck, perky mood back.
 
‘Yay!’ I said. ‘Where?’
 
‘Never you mind.’
 
We swerved off the Old Kent Road onto Trafalgar Avenue, a much nicer street with huge houses. There were several old, large Georgian properties on it, in varying stages of repair. Eck led me up it.
 
‘Ta dah!’ he said, stopping in front of one.
 
The house was painted white, with huge sash windows and a front garden full of rubbish. It was potentially nice but looked terribly unloved.
 
‘What?’ I said.
 
Eck looked a bit hurt.
 
‘Well,’ he said, ‘this house. It’s for rent. Or, rather, the bottom two floors are. Like a maisonette.’
 
Sure enough, a tattered old ‘To Let’ sign hung out of the front of an overgrown hedge.
 
Eck turned to me and took both of my hands in his.
 
‘You know,’ said Eck. ‘The flat’s about to break up. College is finished. Everyone is going to go their separate ways. James is getting posted. Cal and Wolverine and I are graduating. That’s it, it’s the end.’
 
Somehow, weirdly, this came as a bit of a surprise. It should have been obvious; student life doesn’t last for ever, however long Cal and Eck had tried to drag it out. But still, the old flat was . . . well, it was the closest thing I had to home.
 
‘Oh God,’ I said. ‘I never thought of it like that.’
 
‘Yeah,’ said Eck. ‘Well, I thought, maybe . . . you and I . . . we could come and rent here. It’s easy for me to get to the City when I get my job, and it’s still close to Julius’s for you and we could do it up and make it nice - I’m sure I can still use my art skills for something.’
 
I felt slightly taken aback. ‘Eck . . . I mean, we’ve just started dating . . .’
 
Eck looked awkward. ‘I know, I know, I keep pushing a bit too fast, but I just thought . . .’
 
He paused, and I realised this was my cue to jump in and shout, ‘Darling! It’s amazing! Wow!’ But I hadn’t quite processed leaving the flat yet. And, I wondered, had I really processed Eck and I? Together? As much as he thought we were?
 
He echoed my thoughts.
 
‘Oh, Sophie,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry for being such an idiot. I just . . . I thought we were together.’
 
And he was right, of course. Why wouldn’t he think that, when we ate and lived and slept together every day? And he made me feel safe and loved and looked after? This was what it was, wasn’t it? I thought back to Carena, tearful in her wedding dress. About Rufus dogging about, and Cal bringing back every girl in town. There weren’t many good guys about. And Eck was definitely one of them.
 
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It’s a lovely idea. I’d love to move here with you. I just . . . you know, it’s been so hard getting over my dad, and the idea of moving and leaving another home is just quite scary.’
 
‘I understand,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s why I thought we’d stay close by. For now. You know, I lost my dad too.’
 
Instantly I felt bad for not being more enthusiastic. As if he didn’t know what it was like. As if he wasn’t just looking for a home, just like me.
 
‘We’ll make it beautiful,’ I said. And I squeezed his hand hard and reached my face up to meet his familiar lips.
 
 
 
The next morning, Eck bounded out of bed before I had barely stirred.
 
‘What are you up to?’ I said, half-opening my eyes. No tea for me today I noticed. Eck was hopping about trying to get his trousers on in the half-light.
 
‘Curses,’ he said. ‘I was trying to leave before you woke up.’
 
‘Why?’ I said. And then, ‘Are you wearing a suit?’
 
He smiled nervously. ‘Oh, I wasn’t going to tell you in case it went wrong. I’ve got an interview!’
 
‘No way,’ I said. ‘Wow. You are full of secrets at the moment.’
 
He stopped dashing about and grinned at me.
 
‘You’ve spurred me on, Sophie Chesterton. It’s all for you.’
 
‘Well don’t do too much on my account . . .’ I started to say, but he’d vanished to the bathroom.
 
He looked very smart and handsome in a suit.
 
‘You know, maybe being a City boy will suit you,’ I said.
 
‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘It’s nice not to smell of turps.’
 
‘I’d got used to it.’
 
I got up and made tea whilst he finished shaving.
 
‘Good luck,’ I said.
 
‘Thank you,’ he said, smiling at me in the mirror, which made him nick himself. He winced painfully. I watched him wander up the street towards the bus stop trying to look nonchalant, and smiled.
 
‘Ahh. Watching hubby go off to a hard day at the coal face,’ said a sneering voice behind me. It was Cal. He looked pale and skinny, he’d obviously been up all night. ‘Is there any of that tea left?’
 
‘No,’ I said snottily, pulling Eck’s big jumper closer round me. ‘He’s got a job interview actually. Have you?’
 
‘Artists don’t have
job interviews
,’ said Cal dismissively.
 
‘At the Job Centre they do,’ I said.
 
Cal checked to see if there was any water left in the kettle. There wasn’t.
 
‘He’s doing all this for you, you know,’ he said.
 
‘He’s not,’ I said, hotly. This was unfair. ‘It’s nothing to do with me. I told him to keep on with his art.’
 
‘It’s everything to do with you. He just wants to offer you a decent standard of living.’
 
‘Did I ask for that?’
 
‘You crave it,’ said Cal. ‘You can’t help it. You were brought up with everything. It’ll never leave you.’
 
‘Well, that’s hardly my fault, is it?’ I said. ‘I’ve been existing on a seventy-nine-pence lipstick for months and you’re telling me I shouldn’t want anything better.’
 
‘It’s not your fault at all,’ said Cal. ‘Everyone wants something better than they’ve got. I just mean, before you tie Eck down to a life of indentured servitude, make sure
he’s
what you want. Don’t make him give it all up for you, even if he thinks he wants to.’
 
I was furious suddenly.
 
‘
Thinks
he wants to? I can’t bloody stop him. If he wants to go and get a job he can go and get a job and it’s not for me, it’s for him. There’s nothing I can do about it, so leave me alone, OK.’
 
‘OK. Sorry. I didn’t realise you were so serious about him.’
 
‘We’re moving in together,’ I said, before I’d really decided in my heart that we would.
 
Cal raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘I knew he was keen but I didn’t realise it was so strong on both sides.’
 
I dropped my eyes.
 
‘Because no one would ever move in with someone just because they were desperate to belong somewhere.’
 
‘No,’ I said, with finality. ‘They wouldn’t.’
 
 
 
But Eck wasn’t rushing for me. I knew he wasn’t. Or at least, not entirely. The fact was, it was nearly summer. On the day I should have been coming in to my inheritance, I’d stayed at home all day, just in case it had turned out all to be a horribly convoluted test, or if they would discover some codicil which meant that all my money had been ring-fenced after all. No call had come, of course.
 
Cal was right that, of course, I missed material security - who wouldn’t? I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t get apprehensive when I didn’t know if I had enough money to buy cheese
and
soap powder. But he was wrong if he thought I was after Eck as an easy mark. So wrong it made my blood boil. In fact, I was getting more and more work all the time. The models liked working with me, and one of my acquaintances from my old life had called me after she saw Carena’s wedding shots and asked me to do her engagement party. I was going to have some cards printed up and start lobbying in earnest. It was exciting.
 
All the boys had vanished. Finally it was their end of year show. Eck, I sensed, was in such a state about it that he could hardly talk. Cal looked ridiculously drawn and intense.
 
The show was on a Thursday in May. It was quite a big event; the London papers were coming down to have a look, to see if there was anything particularly hilarious they could sell to the
Daily Mail
that year, ideally made out of elephant dung. In fact, when I saw the invitations I realised that I’d been invited before, but, of course, I’d never have attended something so far south - why did you have to when Frieze was so much handier in Regent’s Park?
 
I’d asked Eck if his mum was coming, but he’d said no, there was no point when he was giving it all up - she could come to his office Christmas party, he’d joked. He hadn’t heard back about the job yet, but had his fingers crossed.
 
All the boys dressed smartly - in fact, when we realised nobody had bothered to take the borrowed theatre costumes back, I stuck the red frock on again and Cal went for the tux.
 
I looked for a long while at the cheque I got from the magazine for Carena’s wedding photos. This could go down as the deposit on the new flat. Or maybe towards buying some furniture when we were in there. It would be odd living in a house with bought furniture, as opposed to, say, stuff nicked out of skips. I could pay off my share of the council tax bill. I looked at the cheque for a long time. Then went straight to my old hairdresser.
 
He was gratifyingly pleased to see me again and, very sweetly, gave me a ludicrously huge discount, whilst telling me how he’d followed my extremely brief tabloid career to the letter.
 
‘You should have come to me, sweets,’ he said. ‘You could have been one of the salon girls or something. At least we could have kept your hair in order. Whilst
this
makes it look like you’re about to bark. Your hair! Your beautiful hair!’
 
‘I know,’ I said, shamefaced. Yet another person whose kindness would have helped me in my darkest hour, whom I hadn’t even considered. ‘It was so awful with my father gone and everything . . . I didn’t know what I was doing.’
 
‘But to hook up with that awful Philly,’ he said. ‘I shiver when she heads in here. Grey pubes, can you imagine?’
 
‘No way!’ I said. It made my day, although not nearly as much as it did when Stefano whirled me round and let me see my reflection in the mirror. I looked . . . I looked like me again. I thought I was going to cry.
 
‘There you are, girl,’ said Stefano.
 
I looked more closely at the reflection. It wasn’t quite the same girl as before. But she was all right.
 
Stefano gave me a kiss on the cheek and I stepped out onto the streets with a spring in my step and a bounce in my locks.

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