Diamonds by Brian Ritchie

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by Brian Ritchie


  Chapter 5: Friday 13th & Saturday 14th March.

  Friday evening I arrived home around 6:15 p.m. immediately joining my family having their tea. ‘This is probably my Last Supper here’ I thought as I ate the meal before me.

  “Well,” Dad asked, “What did Tracey say?”

  “Oh, she’s all for it,” I replied between mouthfuls, “she regards it as, and I quote ‘an absolutely wonderful idea’.”

  I resumed eating during the short silence that followed.

  My sister, Louise, looked puzzled.

  “You did tell her the WHOLE story?” my father asked.

  “I may have omitted to mention a few ‘minor’ details.”

  “Such as?” He asked expecting an answer, but I said nothing.

  “So, she doesn’t know the FULL story?”

  “I thought it was best to allay any suspicions she may have by not telling her what she didn’t need to know.”

  I looked at mum, who continued eating in silence.

  “Anyway,” I assured her, “There’s nothing sinister going on - it’s a perfectly ‘kosher’ arrangement.”

  Louise could contain her curiosity no longer.

  “Something I’m not being told?” She enquired, “Or shouldn’t I ask?”

  “Brian,” Dad answered, “has managed to get a room in a flat in ‘the Far East.” (He always referred to Edinburgh as ‘the Far East’.) “And he is sharing it with no less than – he raised his left hand towards Louise - five women.”

 

  Louise almost choked in surprise.

  After clearing her throat she asked excitedly.

  “Good for you, does this mean I can finally get a room of my own?”

  Knowing his insinuations had not had the desired effect Dad sipped his coffee sighing “Probably.”

  My parents trusted me implicitly and knew I would not have taken the room if the arrangements had not been ‘above board’.

  They would have been shocked to learn of my nocturnal visits to the Hareshaw Forest with Tracey, but as I gave them no cause for concern, everyone was happy.

  I started to think again of Tracey, as she was an only child and her parents doted on her they certainly wouldn’t approve of her plans to spend her weekends in Edinburgh.

  We would, no doubt, cross that bridge when we came to it.

  Packing took most of the night, and when I finished I spent my final night in my lonely bed in anticipation of what tomorrow would bring.

  Saturday 14th March.

  The ‘big’ day dawned several hours before I awoke at 10 a.m. and started to carry some of the bags out to the car, taking care not to drop my most treasured possession, the expensive stereo I had been given on my 21st birthday.

  I had almost finished my exodus by the time my parents returned from their weekly shopping run.

  “Are you ready for the ‘off’?” Mum asked as she passed me in the hallway carrying a few plastic bags of groceries.

  She deposited the bags in the middle of the kitchen floor before coming to hug me to her. “You be good now,” she warned as she kissed me lightly on the cheek.

  As Dad entered carrying a large cardboard box filled with tins he quipped, “If you can’t be good, be careful” as he passed us to convey his box to the kitchen.

  I whispered an assuring “I will” to mother and after kissing her took my last bag to my car.

  “It’s the other side of the country not the other side of the world,” I smiled, “and I’ll visit some Sundays if I’m still welcome.”

  I was assured I would always be welcome and left with a tear in each eye.

  Around Noon I arrived at my new abode to be greeted by Rachel who was just on her way out carrying a large silver guitar case.

  “Hi,” she called, “can’t stop.” as she skipped down the steps to street level, got into a small red sports car, and drove off at high speed amid the screech of tyres.

  “She doesn’t hang about.” I smirked as I turned to see Marcie in the doorway with her arms folded across her heavy bosom, giving me her motherly smile.

  “Need a hand? She asked.

  “No thanks,” I replied, “I’ll manage.”

  In my new room I stood for a few seconds surveying my surroundings and noted a duvet and some sheets had been laid upon the bed, but the light bulb was still bare.

  A steady stream of sunlight came through the curtains as I imagined the months ahead as Marcie appeared behind me.

  “When you’re settled in” she smiled, “come into the living room and I’ll give you the finer details, Okay?”

  “Sure,” I replied and proceeded to transport the remainder of my belongings inside.

  When all my ‘gear’ was inside I made my way to the living room carrying a moderate bunch of flowers that I had bought on the way, as a thank-you gift, where I found Marcie with Debbie at the table.

  Marcie was recording a few bills into a ledger closely scrutinising each one.

  She now wore a large pair of spectacles, with round lenses, which suited her round face very well.

  I seated myself in Rachel’s chair, opposite Debbie, who was deeply engrossed in her banking manuals whilst quietly drumming a biro against her teeth.

  She looked across at me and smiled “Hi,” before lowering her head again, occasionally making notes into a notepad by her side.

  Marcie lowered her pen with a sigh, took off her glasses and leaned backwards in her chair, which made her bosom inflate enticingly as she stretched.

  She took another book out of a drawer at her end of the table laying it in front of her.

  “I usually go through the same routine whenever a new girl arrives, so I’ve taken to writing everything down so as to leave nothing out.”

  Opening the book she handed me a neatly typed 3-page list of rules and regulations, which would govern my stay here.

  “I believe everything is covered in this, but, firstly I need a few details such as Name, Address, Next of kin, etc.”

  I noted my details into her jotter, noticing that there had certainly been quite a few previous tenants over the years.

  Working my way through the jotter I noticed Aleesha Kennedy, Lynda MacGregor, and Deborah Campbell and several previous pages further back Rachel Rabinowicz and Marisa Willis.

  “I presume,” I began cautiously, “Seeing as all your names are here in this book the warning you gave me on Thursday applies to everyone else?” Debbie’s head rose as she looked at me intently.

  “Certainly,” Marcie assured me, “We all live by the same rules, so if you have any problems with any of the girls you let me know.”

  She handed me a set of keys as I took money from my pocket and placed the ‘correct’ amount in front of her, which she counted and placed between the pages of her ledger saying “Thank-you” as she did so.

  “And, you must take your share of all household chores, such as washing the dishes, which Cathy used to do on a Tuesday & Friday. Any questions?”

  I couldn’t think of anything other than permission for Tracey to spend a few weekends, so I said “I’m sure I’ll get into the swing before long.”

  “I’m sure you will,” she replied knowingly and closing the book gave me her warm smile again while she took off her glasses placing them in the drawer, followed by the books.

  “I have taken the liberty of bringing a small bunch of flowers as a token of my appreciation.” We sat there looking at each other a few seconds before she thanked me as she heaved herself to her feet. She exited to the kitchen to return a few moments later with the flowers in a small vase, which she placed upon the cabinet against the wall.

  Marcie thanked me again for the flowers and left the room leaving me alone with Debbie.

  I sat for a few moments staring at her until, lifting her head, our eyes met.

  “How is it going?” I asked quietly.

  “No real problems,” her reply, “I never knew there was so much I needed to know for thes
e exams, but I’m getting the gist of it.”

  “If you need any help,” I assured her, “I’ll be only too happy to help if I can.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, “I might take you up on that - nice flowers by the way.” she laughed lowering her head again.

  Returning to my room I emptied a few bags into the drawers and wardrobe, and made the bed before lying down upon it with my hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes reflecting on what my living there would bring.

  A few minutes later there was a light knocking on the door. “Come in,” I beckoned as Marcie entered leaning on the door with one arm.

  “I had a feeling there was something you wanted to ask?”

  This woman could read my thoughts it seems.

  “As it happens,” I replied sitting up.

  Marcie closed the door leaning against the wall with her arms folded across her massive bust again.

  “Everyone thought it was a very great idea to move here,” I began, “everyone, included Tracey, my girlfriend, who was imagining the possibly of staying over on the occasional weekend.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” she assured me, “as long as you’re quiet.”

  “That’s not the problem,” I continued, “I omitted to tell her about you and your gang because it would only raise her suspicions about the arrangements.”

  “I see,” she smiled deep in thought.

  “I was wondering,” I continued, “If you could have a few words with her to allay any fears she might have?”

  “Sure,” she replied thoughtfully, “I’ll be happy to.

  When will she be coming?”

  “I thought about asking her next weekend, if that’s okay with you?”

  “What you do in the privacy of your own room is your own business, but you are responsible for Tracey’s conduct while under this roof.” She looked me straight in the eye.

  “Any indiscretion and you’ll both be out, so, of course, I don’t mind.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered aloud.

  “You’re welcome,” smiling she opened the door to lean on it as before, “but don’t go making a habit of it, okay?”

  Reclining myself I again stared at the ceiling for a while until I heard Aleesha calling me for tea.

  Taking my seat at the end of the table I noticed everyone else was eating. “Is Rachel not joining us?”

  Debbie sprang to life answering, “Rachel’s band have a gig in Glasgow tonight.”

  “I’m not being nosy,” I lied, “I just wondered.”

  After tea Lynda and Marcie took command of the dishwashing as I made myself comfortable at the end of one of the sofas to join Debbie and Aleesha watching a quiz show on television.

  A short while later Marcie emerged from the kitchen to sit in one of the armchairs facing me, closely followed by Lynda sitting at the other end of the sofa from me. Drawing her legs beneath her she covered them with the hem of her skirt before turning her attention to the television.

  In the dimness I had a long look at Lynda, trying to figure out what it was about her I feared.

  She wore a black blouse, opened at the neck, which showed off her slim figure much more than the polo neck jumper I had seen previously.

  She also wore a long black skirt held around her slender waist by a broad black shiny belt and black tights, which I had noticed before her skirt covered them.

  I sat regarding her every movement for a few minutes wondering if she had anything in her wardrobe that wasn’t black, when I noticed Marcie looking at me causing me to divert my gaze towards the television quiz.

  After sitting in relative silence watching the television for about an hour the doorbell rang.

  “That’ll be for me,” Debbie squealed jumping from her seat to answer the door. Returning a few moments later she declared, “Wrong again, it’s for Aleesha.”

  Debbie made herself comfortable as Aleesha exited saying, “I’ll get it” as the doorbell rang again. This time it was for Debbie and she left excitedly leaving me with Marcie and Lynda to resume our concentration on the television.

  Fifteen minutes later Lynda looked at her watch, got up and exited allowing me to stretch out fully on the sofa.

  I remained in that position until the programme finished altering my position I looked across at Marcie who was still eyeing me intently.

  By now my curiosity regarding Lynda was getting the better of me, so I asked, “I don’t mean to be nosy, but what’s the story behind Lynda?”

  “What do you mean ‘story’?” She asked, knowing exactly what I meant.

  “When I was here on Thursday I sensed a certain amount of tension between Lynda and the others, especially with Rachel.” I proceeded cautiously,

  “It’s probably none of my business. I’m just curious.”

  Marcie rose from her slouched position.

  “There’s not much of a story to tell,” she began,

  “Lynda was entertaining one of those punk rocker types in her room last Sunday morning while Rachel was taking a shower.”

  There followed a short pause.

  “The long and short of it is,” she continued, “when Rachel came out of the bathroom the ‘guy’ was waiting to go in.

  He made an obscene pass at her so she threw him out in nothing but his underwear – end of story.

  A word of caution,” she laughed, “Rachel’s not the kind of person to pick a fight with.”

  “Oh, I see, I’ll certainly keep that in mind.” I nodded looking deeply into her sparkling blue eyes again.

  “I don’t mean to stare at you,” I whispered after a pause, “but you have the nicest eyes I have seen for a long time.”

  I felt I had to say something to relieve any tension beginning to build between us.

  “Thank you kind sir,” she laughed, “but it’s more my fault than yours.”

  Marcie became more serious.

  “I find I can learn a lot about people by what their eyes say rather than their mouths, which gets me into bother with people who don’t know me too well.

  I can always tell when people are lying to me,” she continued,

  “If there’s even a shadow of doubt in their hearts I can detect it in their eyes, which has its good points as well as its bad points.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” I enquired curiously.

  “Well, the main reason you are here is because I could see genuine trust in your eyes, but it’s also the main reason my marriage failed.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked cautiously.

  I didn’t want to interfere in her personal life, but I felt I was getting close to finding out what made this woman ‘tick’ and wanted to know more.

  Marcie turned towards me, drawing up her legs under her as she leaned backwards onto the arm of the chair.

  She folded her arms across her bust, took a deep breath and exhaled very slowly.

  “It’s not a very exciting story,” she began emotionally.

  “I met Chris, my husband, while I was a student nurse at the infirmary.

  I was eighteen then and tended to fall in love with anyone who looked twice at me.”

  I listened intently as she reminisced about her youth.

  “He was a young, good-looking, junior doctor who had quite a way with the women.

  All the nurses hoped he would ask them out, but he asked me and I could not help fall head-over-heels in love with him.

  I was so young and so silly then.”

  Marcie looked forlornly at the ceiling for a few moments as she took another deep breath.

  “And there was nothing I wouldn’t do for the guy.”

  As she looked at me again I could see her eyes begin to fill with tears.

  “The two years I lived with him before we married were the happiest I have ever known.

  He showered me with flowers and gifts, which only made me more infatuated with him.”

  A teardrop trickled from her left e
ye to slowly wander down her cheek as she continued.

  “I don’t tend to trust anyone who gives me flowers now.”

  I apologised for bringing the small bunch earlier emphasising they were purely a token of my appreciation.

  “After we were married the flowers became less frequent and eventually stopped, but I didn’t notice because I had everything when I had him.”

  She paused for a moment as she thought of her former happiness and her tear-filled eyes wandered.

  “Anyway,” she continued regaining herself.

  “I eventually became pregnant, which I believed would make Chris the happiest man in the world, but instead he didn’t want anything to do with a baby and urged me to have a termination, which I wouldn’t consider, so he beat me.

  I went to Torquay for a while, had ‘Christie’ and gave her up for adoption.”

  She took another deep breath as a tear trickled from the other eye.

  “I felt so helpless - I didn’t know what to do.

  I would sit for hours in tears trying to fathom how the man I loved could treat me this way.”

  “After a while I began to find receipts from florists and knew he was seeing someone else as I could see the lies in his eyes, so we separated after five years, and two years later we were divorced and I moved in here.”

  “That’s why I feel so strongly for my girls,” she sobbed,

  “Lynda reminds me of myself fifteen years ago.

  She falls in and out of love so easily and has the power to hypnotise men with her eyes.

  Debbie is so sweet and innocent; she needs someone to mother her as her mother died when she was born.

  Aleesha’s mother is thousands of miles away and needs the occasional shoulder to cry on as she misses her family so much.

  Rachel is old enough to know better, but, I treat all of them like they were my own and love them all dearly, like the baby I ‘lost’ all those years ago.”

  I could feel a lump come to my throat as she spoke, so I pulled her to me and hugged her while she cried on my shoulder.

  We hugged for a minute while I rubbed her shoulder with one hand and her thigh with the other, before kissing her lightly on the cheek. She gently rose from the sofa and hurriedly left the room.

  I was still thinking about Marcie when she returned to the room thirty minutes later and I could see she had been crying the whole time she had been away, although she had tried to wash the tears away.

  As she passed the sofa she knelt before me again.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she whispered, “I can get very emotional whenever I think of my baby.”

  I placed my right hand on her left shoulder and gently moved it to below her hair to rub her neck, while my thumb gently brushed her freshly moistened cheek.

  At that moment the door swung open and Debbie entered as Marcie slowly got to her feet and returned to her armchair.

  Debbie made herself comfortable in the armchair closest to the television, but she had difficulty concentrating on the programme as her gaze kept going from Marcie to me and back again, confused, but she said nothing.

  “I could tell,” Emily, “life in this house would be anything but dull.”

  Emily agreed as the doorbell rang and she got up from her seat to answer it.

  Taking a fiver from my pocket I smiled.

  “Give this to the lad and ask the restaurant to charge it to my account.”

  “Will do,” Emily complied as she relayed the information as instructed.

 

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