Diamonds Forever (5 page)

She was so busy wallowing in her regrets that she didn't realise the meeting was breaking up until loud voices directly outside the office galvanised her into action. Not quickly enough, though, because she was still trying to crawl under the desk when the door was pushed wide and a bemused voice said, ‘Oh. Hello.'

She whacked the top of her head on the underside of the desk.

‘Fuck!' she hissed.

The temptation to curl into a tight ball and hope she might suddenly develop hedgehog-prickles was strong, but somehow she found an ounce of chutzpah from somewhere and she turned to face Deano Diamond with a weak smile.

‘Sorry,' she said. ‘Don't tell anyone I'm here, will you? I'm just somebody who used to work here, collecting some stuff. But they don't know about it and they'd only get funny with me, so—'

‘Chill,' he said, interrupting nothing because she'd run out of breath and words anyway.

Good grief. She couldn't stop staring. She'd seen his photogenic, telegenic face a million times all over every medium, but in the flesh he was somehow even more … even more …
Deano Diamond
… than he was on TV.

She'd glimpsed him at the exhibition, of course, but there had been such a kerfuffle of couture frocks and flashbulbs and security guards that she hadn't really had a chance to take him in properly.

But now, looking him full in the face as he stood a couple of feet away from her, she had the vivid impression that he was surrounded by a kind of force field of glamour. Unlike Jenna, he made no effort to tone himself down for Bledburn. Instead, he seemed to light the drab little office room with a million megawatts of sheer charisma.

He was thinner than she expected, almost emaciated, but the whipcord-tautness of his body suited him. Squarish bony shoulders emerged from a ripped-up vest proclaiming him to be a ‘CORPORATE WHORE' – an ironic allusion to an accusation that had been made by a famous rock critic in a review of his most recent album. Another vest, in jumbo fishnet, was layered underneath it. His skinny jeans were pinstriped and he wore a number of chain belts with padlocks hanging off them. Kayley was startled to see that his feet were bare, and he had a tattoo along the arch of one of them, some kind of whirly-twirly thing that she couldn't identify in the split-second she spent registering it.

His face was what she really had to look at, long and hard, as if it were a puzzle she had to solve. It was familiar and yet different. She had seen his cheekbones, his multiple-earrings, his slicked back, silver-streaked hair so many times, and they were no different now. What had changed was his eyes. At least – they hadn't changed materially. They were still the same piercing combination of blue, grey and silver that had gazed out from the poster on her teenage bedroom wall. But the eyes in the poster had been blank and cool, challenging her shelf of Goosebumps books and her collection of miniature troll dolls to find fault with them.

These eyes were looking at
her
.

These famous, amazing, iconic eyes were
looking at Kayley Louise Milton and sort of seemed to be quite enjoying the experience.

Life just got weirder and weirder lately.

‘IT'S OK,' HE
said.

Famous voice, still with a tinge of local accent underneath all the different upper layers. ‘Don't look so scared. It's not the first time a fan's popped up in my dressing room.'

Kayley pushed back her shoulders.

‘I'm not scared, and I'm not a fan,' she said. Then, in a quick gabble, ‘Don't let anyone else in, eh?'

‘It's cool,' he said. He shut the door behind him. ‘Though I can't deny my feelings are a bit hurt. Listen, do I know you? I feel like I've seen you somewhere before.'

‘Oh, I didn't mean I wasn't a fan. Just that I'm not, like, a stalker fan. It's a coincidence that I'm here, that's all. I do like your music.'

‘Oh, well, that's a relief.' He smiled and her knees nearly gave way.
That
smile. ‘Seriously, have I? Seen you before? You're not, like, one of my third cousins or something? I do keep bumping into them.'

‘No.' She laughed, a little more than the situation warranted. She felt ridiculous, a little bit high, a kite floating free over the rooftops. ‘But you might have seen me last night. At the private view.'

‘At Harville Hall?' His face transformed into an expression of keenest interest.

Somebody knocked at the door and Kayley looked urgently over her shoulder.

‘Not now, eh?' called Deano. ‘Can you have my car brought round?'

He winked at Kayley.

‘But we were going to talk logistics,' complained a voice from the other side of the door.

Kayley stiffened, her gorge rising.

Lawrence Harville.

Deano seemed to see the alarm in her eyes because his tone was firmer than ever. ‘Not just now. I've got business to take care of. I'll call you, yeah?'

‘Well, I don't know …'

‘The car. Can you get it brought round now, please?'

A silence.

‘Now, or I'm off this project.'

‘OK.' A grudging mutter.

Kayley smiled with sheer pleasure at hearing Harville treated like a serf.

‘One of the perks of being a rock star,' said Deano softly. ‘You get to be as bloody rude as you like. I try not to over-indulge, but God, it's tempting sometimes.'

‘Thanks,' said Kayley. ‘I owe you one. Though I don't know how I'm going to get out of here without …'

‘Climb out of the window,' said Deano.

‘What?'

‘If you want to make a getaway, climb out of the window, then get into my car. It'll be out there in a minute or so.'

‘Are you serious?'

‘Sure I'm serious. It'll make me feel like James Bond, helping you escape from the evil … youth workers of Bledburn.'

They both laughed, infected simultaneously with the surreal nature of the situation.

‘Go on. I'll go and appease His Nibs out there. See you in a minute.'

Deano picked up a bag from the top of a filing cabinet and left the room. Kayley, fearing that she might be joined at any moment by a less congenial companion, took his advice and climbed through the window on to the hot tarmac of the back yard.

The car was gliding through the back gates, where a few stragglers stood cheering and waving. None of them seemed to be the ones she was avoiding – it was mostly kids and grannies.

All the same, she ducked behind the rubbish hopper until the car parked up and she was able to climb in without being seen.

Apparently the chauffeur was quite accustomed to random women piling in behind him because he made no comment. He didn't even turn his head.

How the other half live, eh,
thought Kayley, reassured by the smoked glass and the calming hum of air-conditioning. Her breathing steadied and she began to unclench, looking around her at the luxurious upholstery and expensive fittings.

This was quite something. Jenna just drove a little hired run-around, nothing fancy. Deano apparently didn't want to get as close to his roots as all
that
.

Deano joined her about five minutes later.

‘Sorry about that,' he said, sliding in beside her. ‘That Harville bastard never shuts up, does he? So, where are we going? Do you fancy lunch at my hotel?'

‘What?'

God, what must he think of her, sitting there with a gormless expression and the hood of a cheap tracksuit top pulled right over her face?

‘I mean, lunch?' she amended. ‘Really?'

‘Why not? Is there somewhere you need to be?'

‘Well … no.'

‘There you go then. Lunch it is. OK, Sergio?'

The chauffeur revved up the car and turned in the back yard, edging slowly through the baying hordes outside the youth club.

‘I'm not exactly dressed for lunch in a posh hotel,' said Kayley, her brain maintaining a running commentary of,
Me, invited to lunch by Deano Diamond, wait till the girls hear about this.

‘Babe, when you're paying what I'm paying, you can turn up to lunch in a bin liner. Don't sweat it. And sorry about calling you “babe”. I know it makes me sound like a dick, but I don't know your name.'

‘Kayley.' She was really having trouble breathing now. This was just too much.

At least they were away from the youth club now, and on the high road out of the estate.

‘Ah.' Deano sat back, throwing back his head, shutting his eyes. ‘Kayley. Of course.'

‘What? You don't know me.'

‘I don't know you, but I know
of
you. You work for Jenna, right?'

‘Right,' said Kayley slowly, suddenly seeing how this fantasy-turned-reality might land her in an awkward situation.

‘I did see you at the private view, but it was all a bit …' He threw his hands up in the air, and sat straight abruptly, turning the smile up to full beam. ‘You know.'

‘She wasn't expecting you.'

‘I gathered. And I was surprised. It's not like Jen. She's always been prepared for every single eventuality. It's rare for something to catch her unawares. I thought she'd at least have briefed security. But no. It seems like I was out of sight, out of mind.'

He sighed.

‘She's had a lot on her plate,' said Kayley warily, hoping she wasn't about to be enlisted as a go-between.

‘Hasn't she just? New house, new man, new life. Apparently. Who is this guy? I've been worried sick about her.'

Deano's eyes were so full of soul Kayley thought he might ascend through the car roof to the heavens above. He had to be sincere, didn't he?

‘Jason's sound,' she said. ‘He wasn't always an angel but he's got a lot going for him now, with the art and all that.'

‘And his rich, connected new girlfriend and all that,' added Deano with a bitter laugh. ‘Landed on his feet there, eh?'

‘You think he's out for what he can get?'

‘Well, don't you?' Deano edged closer, putting a hand on her wrist.

She looked down at the rings on his hand. One of them was a wedding ring, a glinting platinum band. She'd never seen Jenna wearing hers.

‘No,' she said flatly, and she turned away.

I'm turning away from Deano Diamond. I'm giving him ‘fuck off' body language. What the …?

‘OK, OK, I'm sorry,' said Deano, removing his hand. ‘Jason's a friend of yours. I get it.'

‘It's not just that. He really loves her, all right? Really.'

She cringed into the silence. No doubt Deano would be ordering Sergio to stop the car at any minute, and inviting her on to the pavement. This didn't seem to be what he wanted to hear.

‘And her?' Deano's words barely broke the stillness, a fearful whisper over the purr of the engine.

She turned back to him, sympathetic now, seeing the anxiety emanating from him in jagged waves.

‘Sorry,' she said gently. ‘But yes. From what I can make out, she's bang into him.'

He winced.

‘Rebound,' he said, but he didn't sound as confident now.

‘Maybe,' she conceded, wanting to be kind, although she could see that giving him hope might not be the best idea.

The car slowed and pulled up in a car park beside a small country house hotel set in neatly manicured grounds.

‘Wow, where's this?' She stepped out of the car, letting Deano help her and taking his gallantly offered arm. ‘I never knew this place existed.'

‘Used to be a lunatic asylum,' said Deano with a grin. ‘Scrubs up nicely, doesn't it?'

‘No way? This is Pitfields? Didn't it used to have all those huts all over?'

‘They got demolished, I suppose, when it was sold off.'

‘And now it's a hotel for rock stars.'

She looked up at the ivy-covered front, then at Deano, and laughed with enchanted glee. What a life she was leading!

‘Well, you don't have to be a rock star to stay here,' he said, squiring her up the front steps. ‘But it helps.' His teeth shone, perfectly even and white in his smile.

Kayley enjoyed every minute of being shown into the hushed, luxurious dining room, especially the way nobody even looked twice at her shabby tracksuit and minging old trainers. If she was here with Deano, she was legit. No further vetting necessary.

‘Well, I'm honoured to have you as my guest, Kayley,' said Deano, once they were seated with knees weighed down by the heavy damask tablecloth. ‘Would you like a drink?'

‘I know it's only lunchtime, but could I have some champagne? I didn't get to drink any myself last night, you see, 'cos I was working, and it was killing me. I've only ever had it once, at my cousin's wedding, and it's gorgeous.'

‘Whatever the lady wants …' Deano ordered a bottle from the hovering waiter.

‘This is random,' she said, once the bottle had arrived and the glasses were filled to the brim with bubbles. ‘Drinking champagne with Deano Diamond. As one does.' She giggled, still unable to bring her head down from the clouds it had entered a little while ago.

‘One should do it more often,' said Deano, taking a sip. ‘How did you get the gig with Jenna? Do you know her from back in the day?'

‘Yeah, vaguely. My sister was a mate of hers at school. She used to come round to ours. I was the pesky little sister who tried to spy on their conversations.'

Deano laughed.

‘Did you hear anything worth knowing?'

‘Nah, mainly they were just doing each other's make-up and gassing about Take That. Boring really. You'd never have known she'd turn out like she did. She was dead normal.'

‘And then she met me.'

Kayley smiled, but a little tightly. She knew Deano wanted to steer the conversation back to Jenna, and she wasn't comfortable with it. All the same, she meant to make the most of her bonus lunch with the stars. Or star.