by Kiki Archer
Following her host into the entrance, Meg didn’t even notice the wide expanse of hall, the beautiful long mirror next to the door or the carefully colour co-ordinated accessories and ornaments. Instead, she was up against the wall, Honey’s lips pressed hard to her own. It was frantic. Heated. It was that rush of desire packed into one moment where nothing mattered but the emotion rising from inside, bursting out in the power of the kiss.
“Let me take you upstairs,” came the groan.
“Not before I take you to town!” came the sudden snap from a suddenly present Diana Diamond.
Meg felt the shoulder squash in beside her, pressed against her own as Honey jumped into the same position, back against the wall, both women pinned there by the firing squad.
“Mother!” said Honey, hiding her face.
“Mrs Diamond,” uttered Meg, aware they must look like two naughty children returning from a day in the mud.
“Both of you. In the lounge.”
“Mother, that’s not very polite.” Honey stepped forward but kept her head low. “This is Meg.”
“I know full well who she is. Lounge.” A foot stamped sharply. “Now.”
Lifting her eyes to Honey’s, Meg shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s fine.” Honey’s voice was reassuring. “She’ll no doubt tell us off for looking like this. And she might have a point. Can you imagine if I’d been papped looking this pooped!”
“Why are you laughing?”
“It’s funny. Let mother have her moment.” Honey signalled for them to follow her mother’s rigid back view. “She likes to let off steam.”
Meg stared back at the door. “I think I should go.”
“Don’t you dare! You’ll win her over in no time. Trust me. Stay quiet. Nod respectfully and act like she’s right.” Honey smiled. “Just don’t interrupt her. Ever.”
“I really can’t do this.” Meg felt the sickness rising inside her, the taste of bile on her tongue, her legs betraying her in her moment of need.
“Mother’s like this with everyone at the start. Setting her stall out, running through her ridiculous Diamond dynasty rules. She’s possibly been on the slosh as well, so just roll with it.”
Meg felt the fingers lock into her own, squeezing, guiding, moving her forward into the lounge. “Honey…”
“Shhh, It’ll be fine.” The gasp was one of genuine shock. “What? What’s this?”
“Sit!” came the shout.
Meg lifted an eye to the room, full of people. There was Sofia, whom she recognised from the morning, sitting next to Liza, whom she recognised from Honey’s events, who was squashed next to an unusually muscular woman who was spread across most of the sofa, causing the two elderly women to stand behind the group like long lost great aunties in a strange family portrait.
“Meg, this is Sofia; you know Sofia.” Honey was talking quickly. “This is my PA Liza, and that’s…” the voice tailed off. “I’m not sure who that is.”
“Me Svetlana Sokolova. Svetty for shorts.” The large lady pulled herself up and bowed with hands together as if ready for battle. “Yous heff been dirty bitches.”
Liza interjected. “Wrong words.”
“They be dirty. They be having the pom.”
“The pom?” Honey frowned.
“The pom pom. The sexy time.”
Honey continued. “Who is this, Mother?”
“She’s my new holistic therapist and she’s sensational. Look at Liza. Totally relaxed.”
Meg followed all eyes in the room to the PA, famed for her strung out persona and brogues, neither of which were in evidence today.
Honey nodded. “Fine. Hello, Svetty.” And lifting her hand to the back row she added, “Meg, this is Gerty and Dot. Mother’s two very best friends.”
Meg held her breath, no chorus of “Hi Meg,” serving to relax her as it had this morning.
“Can I get anyone a drink?” asked Honey, continuing her bizarre introduction to a gathering she’d been given no part in.
“Just sit down and listen.” Diana was pointing to the white pouffe, large enough to house another branch of the weird-looking family.
Meg followed with no option but to raise her arm and accept the lethal injection that was coming. This was it. This was the end. Her comeuppance. And all in front of an audience too. Studying the grain of the wooden floor encasing the room’s central carpet Meg conceded her run had been good. Of course this was coming. She deserved what she got. Maybe Honey would forgive her? But to forgive she had to understand, and the more Meg thought about it the less she herself understood the reasons for her behaviour. Why had she thought it okay to spill other’s secrets? Why had she enjoyed posting news first? Yes the motivation at the start had been the outing of the vile Eddy Elroyd. But she could have left it there. She should have left it there.
“You are gathered here today,” the voice was preaching, “for two reasons. The first… is this.” Diana Diamond pointed her finger towards the pouffe. “We cannot…” the collar was lifted, “as a collective…” the chin was raised, “have Honey…” the finger was pointed once more, “going out… looking… like… this.”
Sofia cut in. “She looked different this morning. The make-up must have smudged.”
“Yes.” The Russian therapist agreed. “They be heffing the pom. The bonk bonk.” The woman thrust forward in her seat. “They be doing the sex. The pervert.”
“We have not been doing the sex!” gasped Honey. “And I am not a pervert.”
Meg found it very difficult not to say shame. It would have been a funny comment had it not been for the family portrait, the lethal injection and the brown folder suddenly spotted on the coffee table.
“Svetty,” Diana was back in control, “I appreciate your input, but I need silence.” The long pause ensured all eyes were once again focused. “Honey needs our support. She needs our guidance. She needs to be told when it’s not a good idea to slap on some ridiculous disguise, pull a sickie from work and take herself off to Ikea without her security. I’ve heard of this place. It sounds utterly dreadful.” Diana reached for the document. “There is a fiend on the loose. A fiend who’s taken great pleasure in pulling Honey down. In spilling her secrets for all to devour. In badmouthing. In shaming. In ridiculing her naive innocence. Imagine if she found out that Honey… the pervert… had been pomming.”
Honey rolled her eyes. “Oh Mother, stop it. And what do you mean ‘she’?”
“The owner of SlebSecrets.” Diana narrowed her eyes and puckered her mouth. “She’s a she.”
“Really?” Reaching out for the document, Honey frowned. “Who was she?”
Diana clutched it tighter to her chest. “She was a lowlife cretin of the most repulsive form. A rat. A cockroach. A double-crossing snitch of a stool pigeon. Someone so sad that her little life stank with a stench worse than cat piss.”
“Mother! Stop being so melodramatic.”
“She was a gutter rat, a sewer shit, a friendless, heartless excuse for a human.”
Meg could bear it no longer. Her eyes had been examining the same wooden knot on the floor during the spiel. She daren’t look up, Diana’s eyes sure to meet hers, pinning her with force, directing every insult right to her face.
“She was a nobody,” continued the voice. “No friends, no life, no hope in hell of ever becoming someone herself, so she tore down the people who had. The successful. The righteous. But now her stinking little site’s down.” The bow was theatrical. “And there, ladies and Svetty, we’ve won.”
Honey reached forward and grabbed the folder from her mother. “So who was she?”
Meg gasped. “No!”
The folder was opened. “It’s empty.” Honey shook it. “Mother, it’s empty.”
“I told you,” Diana took a seat on the regal white armchair, “a nobody. An alone in the attic surrounded by porn sort of person. Called Sarah or something nondescript like that.”
Honey
stood up. “Well thank you all for coming. I’m glad we’ve seen the show and, fear not, I have no more off-the-cuff outing plans, so can we all go about our business now please.”
The large therapist wiped the sweat from her brow. “What heff happens? This house heff pigeon or rat? Svetty Sokolova uncle do pest control.”
Liza stood up. “Don’t worry about it.” She lowered her voice. “Even I was lost in that translation.” The smile was suggestive. “Fancy a pom in the spa?”
The growl was deep. “Pervert pom?”
Liza’s uncharacteristic giggle signalled the answer.
“We’ll join you too,” said Gerty and Dot, at last moving from their position behind the sofa. “And Di,” said Gerty, “one of your more out there performances, but we enjoyed it all the same. Meg, nice to meet you.”
Meg was sure she’d heard someone addressing her. Was she discovered? Was she exposed? The shock was all consuming, as if the movement of people around her was happening in another dimension where she was an onlooker, a mere observer. Her name again. She glanced up. Both elderly women were now peering down at her.
“We like the fact you got her dirty,” said the one with the slightly fuller face.
“Dirty?”
“I’m Gerty,” said the woman, “but yes, she’s dirty. Our Honey needs some fun, so we’ll leave you love birds in peace.” The voice was lowered. “And ignore old Di. She does this every once in a while. Shows us who’s boss. I’m sure Honey’s told you to sit back and applaud. She’ll be sharing sangria with you in no time. In fact, would you like a trip to the spa?”
“No, of course she wouldn’t,” said the other old lady. “She’ll be wanting to get the rest of her inner thigh covered in make-up.”
Meg glanced down at her trousers, indeed stained muddy brown. She lifted her eyes to the room, which was now slowly clearing. Liza and Svetty were limbs locked and guiding each other out of the hall with inappropriate fumblings and indistinguishable but unmistakably dirty words. Gerty and Dot had turned to shuffle behind them, leaving Honey to stand in front of her mother with arms folded and furious face.
Meg turned to Sofia who had been so smiley and warm this morning, but now seemed to be staring with what could be considered an air of displeasure. Or was she being paranoid? Meg tried to grasp hold of the situation. Did Diana and her crowd really not know? She tried to smile. Sofia stared back. Sofia definitely knew.
“Meg.” Diana was talking loudly. “A word in the kitchen with me.”
And so did Diana.
Chapter Nineteen
Ensuring once more that the kitchen door was fully closed, Diana made her way, with purposeful hip swish, narrow eyes and high collar, towards the breakfast bar where Meg Rutherton was perched, rather uncomfortably, on one of the tall stools. It had taken just one sharp snap of “sit” to get her down, easy compared to how long it had taken to persuade Honey to let this odd-looking woman out of her sight. But her daughter had finally allowed it, for ten minutes only, conceding the time could be used to freshen up. Maybe that’s what this Meg woman needed. A freshen up. Maybe it was the smudges of brown make-up making her look rather peculiar. Diana peered closer. Yes, she could potentially be pretty with some lashes and lippy and maybe a wave in her hair. She pulled back; she had just ten minutes to give this young upstart the fright of her life.
Meg spoke first. “How can I help?”
Diana’s voice snapped with acidity. “Oh, don’t you play the how can I help card with me! And how dare you talk first. Don’t you know who I am? Don’t you know where you are? Show some respect you sadistic little savage.” Diana inhaled, relishing the red cheeks, dropped eyes and nervous fingers that were slowly shoved between the crossed legs on the stool. “You’re Meg Rutherton. Meg Rutherton of SlebSecrets.”
“Please.” The eyes dared to lift in a look of repentant panic. “I was going to tell her. I’ve tried to tell her. I will tell her. Call her in now. I’ll tell her myself. I can’t live with what I’ve done. It’s killing me. I need to be honest. Please, Mrs Diamond, I’m so very, very sorry.”
Diana paused. She’d assumed the woman would try and lay blame with her flatmate, or deny culpability altogether. But no, here she was, fessing up. “Stop the snivelling. You’re not worthy of sharing the same air as a Diamond. Do you know just how many creeps and psychos she has stalking her every second? I know. My men know. Honey, however, is completely oblivious, but they’re out there, like you, thinking they know her, thinking they can have something with her, creating a fantasy world. You created your site but I’ve destroyed that, just like I’m going to destroy you: slowly, painfully.”
“Please, Mrs Diamond, let me tell her myself. I’ll tell her right now and I’ll go. You won’t ever have to see me again, and nor will she. I know I’m not worthy of being in her presence. She’s the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met, and it’s been brief, but I’ll hold it in my heart forever. I know I don’t deserve the moments I’ve shared, and it was selfish of me to try and steal them before revealing the horror of who I’ve been and what I’ve done, but she made me want to be a better person from the moment she opened that door – I knew; I just knew.”
Diana wrinkled her nose in a mixture of disgust and puzzlement. “Oh, this is even worse. No one likes a snitch. Now keep quiet and listen.” Lifting her collar she nodded; she’d assert her authority once more. “You’re going to do exactly as I say.”
“But it must come from me, it must—”
“Silence! Eyes down!” Pausing for the obedience, which happened quickly, Diana smiled at the power already held in her hand. This jumped-up excuse for a journalist would be in her pocket in no time at all. She stopped, taking a moment to look at the quiet repentance. She had to admit it was all rather admirable, the idea of honesty, but that wasn’t the plan; the plan was much bigger than letting a silly cat out of a bag. Who actually cared that this woman had written a few gossipy posts? She didn’t. God knows, she understood how the system worked: journalists being polite to your face but backbiting behind the scenes, employees doing the same, false friends selling their stories. No, this woman’s crime wasn’t horrific, especially compared with some of the things you’d find written online, and if Honey hadn’t mentioned the site it certainly wouldn’t have been one her men would have tackled. Slebsecrets was more showbiz than sleaze, a UK Perez, and everyone liked his barbed comments, didn’t they? Diana focused herself. “So,” she began, “I was ready to tell her, of course I was. I’m not having my daughter hounded by someone just after the latest scoop.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Silence.” She leaned forward. “You could be useful to me. To Honey. She’s confused. She’s naive.” The pause was thoughtful. “She needs guidance.”
The voice came slowly. “In what way?”
“This piece you’re writing.” Diana fingered her hair and paced once more. “Make it neutral.”
“But Honey wants to use the lesbian label.”
The staring face was back. “Make. It. Neutral.”
“But—”
“Of for god’s sake, Meg. You know what this’ll do to her career. There is absolutely no need for any label of any sort. Write the piece. Make her see sense.” The smile was wide. “And that way our little secret will stay just that. Our. Little. Secret.”
“But I’ve already written the article and I’ve already come to the conclusion—”
“You, you little upstart.” The finger was pointing. “You don’t come to any conclusions,” the point got fiercer, “apart from this one.” Diana straightened and nodded in decision. “She doesn’t get labelled and you don’t reveal your identity.”
Meg frowned. “But your men, and whoever else you paid to hunt me down and expose me?”
“Oh, stop with the flapping. My men are already working on their next case. The only person you need worry about is me and, like I said, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.”
“But I al
ready—”
“Oh Mother, you’re not coercing Meg into another of your PR stunts are you?” asked Honey, entering the room all fresh-faced with hair now tamed in a bun, soft tracksuit restoring her youth.
“You know me, dear, always looking for that outside opportunity.”
“Don’t listen to her,” said Honey. “She already has a team of people ensuring she’s papped at the places to be.” She looked at Meg. “Would you like a shower?”
Diana answered for her. “The Beacon just called. They need her at work. Probably got wind she was cavorting around a furniture store instead of writing her article.” She nodded. “Get going now, Meg. You don’t want me to report you, do you?”
“Oh Mother.”
Meg stood up. “It’s fine. I should be making a move.”
“Mother, really, what have you done?”
“Nothing,” said both co-conspirators simultaneously.
Meg continued. “Honestly, I should head off. I need to finish my article. That way I’ll be able to enjoy tomorrow without worrying about work.”
“You’re still coming? She hasn’t put you off?”
“Of course I haven’t,” said Diana, reaching out to squeeze Meg’s shoulder. “There’s something special about this one.”
Honey looked shocked. “Really?”
“It was lovely to meet you, Mrs Diamond.”
“Ma’am’s fine.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mother. Meg, you can call her Diana, and I’m thrilled you’re getting along. I told you she’d set out her stall, didn’t I? What was it? Don’t hurt my daughter? Don’t mess with the dynasty?”
Diana cut in. “I just told her she’d look better with a wave in her hair and maybe some lashes.”
“Oh Mother, really! And Meg, you don’t have to go. Freshen up here; let’s go for some food?”
“Honestly, they’ve only given me three days to write the piece and I said you could check it first, so I really need to crack on.”
“You’ll bring it in the morning?” asked Diana. “I’ll be here.”
“No, you won’t, Mother.”