Diamonds Forever (30 page)

She gloated at the sight of all the confused faces in the crowd. They stared, or turned to each other, frowning, or whispering questions. The line about the ‘real lord of the manor' had raised a lot of curiosity.

She handed the microphone to Jason, who blinked at it for a minute.

‘Do I have to do this?' he muttered to Jenna.

‘It's your house, morally. Yours to take and yours to give away. I might have paid Harville for it, but it's you whose name should have been on the deeds. And the decision as to what to do with it is yours.'

She saw Jason take a deep breath at that, and nod.

‘Right,' he said, then he raised his voice and spoke to the crowd.

‘You're probably wondering what the f … sorry, the hell … I'm doing up here, right? I mean, you know I'm with Jenna, but what she just said has got you all thinking, by the looks of things. By the way, I'm not used to public speaking. Just as a warning. I'll try not to swear.'

There was laughter, and Jenna was pleased to see that the crowd seemed to be behind Jason, willing him on.

‘A few weeks ago, Jenna was looking into some old family history stuff in Nottingham records office,' he resumed, ‘and she found out something pretty f … er, pretty weird. See, it turns out that my mum is directly descended from one of the Lord Harvilles, a Victorian bloke. It was kept quiet because … well, it's a long story, but that's the gist of it. I'm actually the heir to this place, although it'll never be legally proved because it was all too long ago, but Jenna reckons it ought to be up to me what happens to it anyway. And please don't anyone call me “Harville” or anything like that. I don't think of myself like that and I never will. It's just one of those things.'

He turned to Jenna, shrugging, clearly uncomfortable with his public speaking role. The pitch of the crowd's astonished chattering had risen to drown out anything else he might say anyway.

She took the microphone he offered and gave his arm a quick squeeze.

‘Yes, it's true,' she said to the crowd. ‘Jason's great-great-great grandfather was a Lord Harville – and his great-great grandfather was his firstborn son. Only, father and son never knew each other, never met, and so the Hall was passed down to another owner instead. If only that Lord Harville's wife hadn't run away to Nottingham, Jason would have grown up here, gone to the best schools in the country, and had a life of privilege and comfort. But, I have to say, I kind of like him the way he is. Anyway, now it's time for Deano Diamond to say his piece.'

She retreated to the back of the stage with Jason, taking his hand and standing close to him, ready to relish the moment of revelation.

Deano skipped forward, acknowledging the usual few minutes of whistles and cheers and snatches of song.

‘Hey,' he said. ‘I've had some good audiences in my time, but nothing beats a home crowd. Good evening, Bledburn!' He held up the mic to capture another wave of rapturous applause, as if he were opening a gig at Wembley Stadium.

Jenna and Jason shared an eye-roll.

‘I feel naked without my Strat,' he said, as the ripples died down. ‘Kind of weird not to have a set list taped to the speaker over there. Anyway – I've got something to say, and I'm going to just come straight out and say it.'

‘I wish you would,' muttered Jenna.

‘Like you, I used to come here as a kid and enjoy the Miners' Gala every year,' he said. ‘I sang at it in the school choir once – must have been about six or seven. Anyone else here remember that?'

A voice here and there shouted confirmation.

‘I think it was “Puff,
the Magic Dragon
”
,' he said, grinning. ‘We slayed it, man. Not Puff, obviously. He survived the experience. But it was my first taste of public performance, aside from playing fifth shepherd from the right in the nativity play. It gave me the thirst. It all started here, man.'

Whoops and whistles again. The man knew how to play a crowd, thought Jenna. He always had done.

‘So I suppose you could say Harville Hall has a special spot in my heart, unlike the people who lived here back then. It's a shame to see the old place in this state, but the damage can be repaired.' He let silence fall completely before continuing. ‘Harville Hall today is a bit like our old town. Battered and bruised, not looking its best. But we're coming back, stronger than ever, and this house is where it starts.'

Nice
analogy, thought Jenna. Deano was good at hiding his brains, but when he let them out for airing, it was always worth having a spectator seat.

‘I have agreed,' he said, ‘to buy this house from Jenna and Jason.'

A flutter of astonishment passed through the crowd. He was going to buy a burnt-out wreck? Whatever for?

‘I'm going to have it properly restored and refurbished, and then I'm going to re-open it with a new name and a new purpose. Harville Hall will become Bledburn's very own School of Arts. All our talented musicians, artists, dancers and actors will have a place here to study their passion – and it'll be a registered charity, so if you can't afford it, you can still get in. So, mums and dads, tell your talented kids that they can make it if they try. The money and privilege that stand in their way have just moved aside and cleared the way for them. Bledburn's got talent – and we're going to let it shine!'

There was a roar of approval from the crowd, and many of the children jumped up and down with excitement, as if to show how hard it was to contain their talent.

‘Jenna here is going to be a director, and Jason is going to develop the art side of things. I'll pop by as often as I can to give the musicians masterclasses. It's going to be amazing, guys. And it'll bring new life to the town as well. Bledburn forever!'

Jenna hadn't thought the crowd could get any more enthusiastic but she had to admit, they were outdoing themselves. She half-thought they might swarm on to the stage and lift Deano on to their shoulders, but they stopped just short of such an excess, contenting themselves with banner waving and lifting their kids into the air.

‘Great speech,' said Kayley, once he had put down the mic and called the other three people on the stage to join him for press photos.

‘Yeah, you weren't bad,' admitted Jason. ‘Better than me. I hate all that public speaking.'

‘That's why you're an artist and I'm an artiste,' said Deano with a grin. ‘Or, rather, you're a proper creative type and I'm a strutting great ponce.'

They all laughed.

‘You're a bit more than that,' said Jenna.

‘Bloody hell, did you just say something nice to me?' Deano feigned shock.

‘Guilty,' she replied. ‘It's a bit easier now you've stopped being an arse.'

‘Must be the effect Kayley's had on me,' he said. ‘She's the ego-buster. I could hire her out around Hollywood maybe.'

‘Hey, no pimping,' warned Kayley. ‘I only work on one man at a time.'

‘So – when did all this happen?' asked Jenna, nudging Kayley into blushes.

‘All what?' she asked innocently.

‘You and Deano, you dark horse,' said Jason.

‘It's amazing what being afraid for your life in a cellar can do to you,' said Kayley briskly. ‘Isn't it, Deano? Makes you think.'

‘It sure does,' said Deano, sliding an arm around Kayley. ‘And not just that – it looks like a bit of good old Bledburn straight-talking was what we both needed, Jen.'

‘And we got it,' said Jenna, laughing.

‘And we're keeping it,' said Deano, gazing into Kayley's eyes.

‘
SO THEN, LORD
Harville.' Jenna put one stockinged foot on the dressing table stool, bending her leg so that her silky slip fell away from her thigh.

‘Don't call me that,' said Jason, standing in the shower room doorway, still towel-drying his wet hair. ‘Besides, that'd be Mum, wouldn't it? She's the actual oldest direct descendant.'

‘Are you trying to spoil my fun? I feel like getting seduced by a lord, and I've got one right in front of me.' She pouted, shimmying her hips a little.

Jason dropped the towel and grinned.

‘Role play, eh? Well, I could be persuaded. Get over here, peasant, and kneel to your lord.'

The towel around his waist began to show traces of an outline.

‘You want me to kneel?' Jenna walked slowly over to him, running a provocative finger along her lower lip.

‘You bet I do. But first …' He held out a hand, preventing her from obeying the order straight away. ‘You're overdressed.'

‘Overdressed? Really?' She looked down at herself. She was only wearing the silk slip and stockings, with a suspender belt.

‘Really. This can go.' He ran a finger beneath one of her shoulder straps.

‘But then I'll be …'

‘Naked? No you won't. Not completely. Besides, are you disobeying me? I don't think you want to do that, peasant.'

‘Why not?' Jenna was trying to act the trembling ingénue, but she couldn't quell a spark of mischief.

Jason took her arm, half-turned her, pushed her down by the shoulder blades until her bottom was thrust outwards and landed a loud smack on it.

‘Because that's why not,' he said over her indignant squeal. ‘Got it?'

‘Er, I'm not sure,' said Jenna, wiggling her bottom and enjoying the feel of the cool silk against the warm spot Jason had created.

He sighed.

‘You need more?'

‘I'm just a poor peasant who doesn't always understand …'

He shook his head and led her by the hand to the bed. Sitting down, he pulled her across his lap and lifted the hem of her black silk slip until her bare bottom was revealed, framed by the suspender straps.

‘Let me know when it starts to sink in,' he advised. He made a quick and lively start on her, taking full advantage of the way her round cheeks were presented high and defenceless to him.

Jenna wriggled and squirmed, enjoying her role, even if the spanking was pretty brisk and would soon become uncomfortable.

‘Oh, my lord, how could you do this to me?' she gasped, when she was able to fit words in between ouches and hisses.

‘Are you going to obey me?' he asked ominously, his hand falling heavier and covering every little inch of exposed skin.

She felt the burn, and imagined how her bottom must look to him, but she didn't cave. This would end when she couldn't take any more, and no sooner.

Oh, how good it was to feel his hand hard on her behind once more. Since the fires and their aftermath, life had been fraught, much of it spent in police stations, hospitals, hotels and newsrooms. But now they were in London, renting their own place in St John's Wood, with nobody else but themselves to please. There was a room at the top of the house with a pitched glass ceiling that made a perfect studio for Jason, and a neat garden at the back for Jenna to sit in and make calls when the autumn weather was mild enough. At last it felt as if her life might be settling down.

But her bottom certainly wasn't, at this moment in time. Jason had managed to set it on fire all over, and he was clearly waiting for her to concede defeat before he stopped, as smack after smack fell on her overheated rear.

She thought of her old self, before returning to Bledburn, and would have smiled if she hadn't been so busy yelping. The old Jenna, if she had been sat down in front of a recording of this moment, sent back in time to her LA office, would have been horrified.
What the hell is he doing to me? It's assault! Sexual assault! Get the police for me, Misty.

Worst of all for old-Jenna, a substantial part of her would have been intrigued, excited even, by the scene. And that would have made her react even more negatively.

I won't be disrespected again by any man, ever.

Yet Jason was not disrespecting her. They were both fully engaged in mutual pleasure. The only reason he was spanking her was because she wanted him to.

She was probably insane, though, she reflected. It was getting really painful now.

She kicked her legs to try and deflect his hand from its task, her face as hot as her backside.

‘You peasants really are slow to catch on, aren't you?' said Jason, sounding impressed. His arm must have tired, because he stopped for a moment, rubbing his palm over her smarting globes. ‘Either that or incredibly stubborn. Which one is it?'

‘Stubborn,' panted Jenna. ‘Very, very stubborn.'

‘I had a feeling you might be. So, then. Are you going to do as you're told, or do I have to spank you again? I don't mind, either way. I could do this all night.'

As if to demonstrate, he peppered each cheek with a rapid fire of smacks.

Jenna shrieked, and knew she had had enough this time.

‘Please, no more,' she pleaded. ‘I will obey you.'

‘Aha, good decision,' said Jason. ‘I was starting to wonder if you'd gone numb and couldn't feel it.'

‘Oh, I could feel it. Don't worry about that.'

He let her get up and she stood, rubbing her behind and eyeing him coyly as he sat in his towel on the edge of the bed.

‘Go on then,' he prompted, his eyes rapacious as they raked her over.

She loved that light of lust in his eye, and knew she was reflecting it back to him. Jason's body was one of her favourite sights, certainly on a par with his art in her opinion. There was nothing she preferred to look at.

Clad only in a towel, he sat flexing his wrist as if the spanking had strained it in some way – perhaps it had. She could see how red his palm was and blushed to think that the colour was replicated on her bottom. His broad shoulders, tautly muscled arms and well-defined chest were powerful without being exaggerated. She had never gone for that body-builder look anyway, and Deano was the elegantly wasted type. Compared to him, Jason was certainly well built.