House of Diamonds

by Amber Jakeman

  “Actually. Stay right there,” Nicole said. “I’ve been meaning to show you both something. Should have done something about it sooner, but it’s been ages since we’ve all been together. I found something amazing.”

  She dashed out and returned a few moments later, laying a sketchbook on the old formica table.

  It was a simple thing, but the moment Nicole opened the cover, it had them riveted. They leaned in for a closer look. One bold design after another stared out at them as she turned the pages, alive with pencil drawings. Elaborate pendants, enamelled cufflinks, paua shell tie pins, gemstone earrings, opal shirt studs, and luminous pearls, arranged in brooches, earrings, drops and strands.

  The designs leapt off the pages, one after another, each carefully labelled, each daring, unusual and utterly beautiful.

  “Where’d you get this?” Jim’s voice was hushed.

  “In the safe. I thought maybe one of you put it there. Maybe someone came in wanting an apprenticeship, or a supplier left it behind.”

  “When did you find it?”

  “Earlier in the week. Maybe Thursday?”

  James spoke quickly, eager.

  “That stormy day. When I took Stella to the hospital. You came and grabbed her bag of takings, remember, Nicole? I think this is Stella’s. Did it fall out of her bag?”

  “This is good. Good strong design.” Jim was still flipping through the book, pointing to each page. He was up to a series of rings, each more unusual than the last.

  “This Stella,” Jim said. “She has a gift. A gift. Ah. What I could teach a young jeweler with this sense of design...”

  Jim twisted away, drained his mug, rinsed it out and banged it upside down on the edge of the old sink to drain as he’d done for 60 years. He looked back at his grandchildren.

  “Well? What are you waiting for? Won’t she be wanting it back?”

  “I’ll go,” James said, fingering the keys in his pocket. “I’d offered to take her for a run to Bowral, anyway. See if I can find her.”

  Stella’s sketchbook burning in his hands, James was off down the stairs at a run, back into the Jag and pulling away from the kerb within minutes. He’d forgotten to ask Jim and Nic whether they knew anything about an official complaint about her stall. Next time.

  Chapter 19

  There was an insistent knocking against the fuzz of a dream. Stella was at a beach, in the froth of a wave, warm, happy. Hawaii. Swathes of pearls were around her neck.

  As she came up out of the dream she wondered again where her notepad could be. She wanted to capture the lavish bounty of the arrangement, like froth and bubbles. Sea foam. So many pearls. How many strands? Some big, some small. She wanted to float back into her slumber to check. So many beautiful visions ...

  “Knock, knock, knock.” Stella woke to the reality she’d only been asleep for an hour or two after tossing and turning most of the night, worrying about ... fixating on ... James. Worried she’d been mean to him. Worried her stall would close. She should have just gone to the garage and worked like an idiot all night. Not wasted time worrying and then sleeping in instead of selling more stock as planned, to get ahead of her debt. What a waste of time!

  “Sorry, Stella.” It was Jeannie with a cup of tea for her. The room was too bright. She wanted to sink back on the pillows, put one arm over her head and drift back to sleep again.

  The clock must be broken. It couldn’t be nearly noon. Had she slept all this time? She sat up, pushed the hair away from her face. Thought of James again, the loss of him, the look in his eyes when he’d assumed she’d been accusing him of closing her down. Felt miserable.

  Jeannie had come in and closed the door. That was unusual. She was still holding the tea, so Stella sat up, held out her hands for it, blinked a few times.

  “Stell,” Jeannie whispered urgently. “Hot, hot, hot visitor. James Huntley. Vintage e-type Jag convertible. Top down. Thinks he’s driving you to Bowral?”

  Stella burnt her mouth on the tea. Maybe the end of their beach picnic was actually a nightmare. Or maybe she was still asleep.

  “What?”

  “He’s in there with the girls. And the piles of ironing. James. Why didn’t you tell me, so I could clean the place up a bit?” Was Jeannie a bit keen? She was smiling at her. Stella frowned and sat up straighter in the guest bed she’d called her own for months.

  “James the hero,” Jeannie said excitedly in a singsong voice. “King of Jewels.“

  “Shhh. You’re spending too much time with nursery rhymes, Jeannie!”

  “Well, he rescued you, didn’t he? And you can’t deny he’s good looking. Not to be disloyal to Matt or anything, of course. And I suppose you already know all about the car.”

  “Settle down. It’s his mother’s, and I’ve never cared about such things.” Confused, her emotions were a jumble. Still angry at James for not understanding she didn’t want her business shut down. Relieved she hadn’t frightened him away for ever. Curious.

  “Sure you do. You care about design. It’s a classic. In my driveway. I told him you were ‘busy,’ but he says he’d ‘prefer to wait, if possible, please.’ So polite. Says he has something he thinks belongs to you. Want me to offer him coffee? Slowly? Give you time to get dressed?”

  Stella groaned. It was difficult to ignore the spike of excitement in her chest. Maybe it was just the caffeine in Jeannie’s strong tea. As Jeannie closed the door, she leapt up and threw on a fresh t-shirt and denim skirt, dragging a brush through her hair. She didn’t want to appear too keen. She brushed her teeth, splashed some water on her face and rolled her eyes at herself. He’d have to take her as he found her.

  If she was taking her first day off, and she’d already slept through half of it, she was determined to enjoy every minute of it from now on. Damn the lost revenue and the credit card from hell. Savour the moments. She took a deep breath and stepped out.

  She peeped her head around the living room door to see James surrounded by her nieces. Sienna had pulled up onto his knee and was swaying there. He had one hand hovering behind her back, ready to steady her.

  Lucy was in earnest conversation with him, bringing him another teddy to add to the pile already in his lap. He was nodding earnestly. Maybe a lifetime of serving customers had done him some good, she mused.

  Just then, Jeannie entered with a large frothy coffee for him and a couple of blueberry muffins, and he smiled appreciatively.

  “Got one for me, too, Jeannie,” Stella asked, scooping up Sienna and giving her a big hug, then hiding her face in her smallest niece’s tummy as she giggled and tried to pull her hair.

  “Good morning,” James said.

  “Afternoon.” Stella looked across at him now, guarded. However good he might be with her nieces, their parting the previous night had been poor. Lacklustre. But those eyes! What was he even doing here?

  “I have good news for you, Stella. I wanted to reassure you straight away.”

  “Oh?”

  Lucy was watching their exchange. “Oh? Oh?”

  “Exactly, Lucy. Got a cuddle for me?” Stella held out her arms as Lucy toddled across.

  “Nicole found a notebook. We think it’s yours.”

  “My notebook! So good of you to bring it back to me in person! Thank you!” It was impossible to stay cross with James.

  “Still coming with me for that run back to Bowral?”

  “Now?”

  “Sure. We can be back by this evening.”

  “Oh? Oh? ...” said Lucy, watching Stella’s expression.

  Jeannie entered with two more coffees and took the free armchair.

  “Matt bought my engagement ring at Huntleys,” she said, smiling encouragingly at James and Stella. “Amazing old place.”

  James took another sip of coffee, pinning her with his eyes. “... except that ‘no one ever goes in there’...?”

  Jeannie blushed, mortified, but she was no shrinking violet. “Yes. Well. You saw that. Of course you did. Ju
st defending my sister. Nothing personal you understand. She works so hard. It’s only natural I want to see her succeed. You know? And it’s not as if Huntleys has been perfectly silent.”

  “True. That’s Nicole. Marketing.”

  “Well. I suppose you all work hard at Huntleys, too...” she offered.

  “Not all of us,” James said, somewhat bitterly. “And you’re right. Footfall’s right down. A lot of shopping’s gone online, as you’d know, and Huntleys needs to recognize that. Can’t get stuck in the past. There’s a lot to be done. We’re ready for some fresh ideas.”

  Jeannie stared at Stella and widened her eyes.

  “Sometimes business plans need to change,” Jeannie said, nodding significantly at Stella, who remained pan faced, non committal, ignoring the excitement in her chest for the fifth time that morning.

  James reached inside his jacket and pulled out the sketchbook.

  “So. This is yours?”

  Stella reached for it, relieved, and brought it back to her lap, turning the familiar pages.

  “Nicole found it in the safe. I have no idea how it got there. Unless maybe it fell out of your bag that day...”

  “Thank you.” It was practically a whisper. Her book was like an old friend. “I wondered where it had gone! Not that I’ve had much time to sketch. But I was only missing it again this morning, strangely enough.”

  James was looking at her keenly.

  “You do realise how talented you are?” His voice was deep, serious.

  Jeannie had shrunk to the side of the room, swaying to keep Sienna quiet and kissing the top of her head, looking eagerly from James to Stella and back again.

  “I should hope so,” Stella said, giving him her clear attention. “That’s why I opened my stall.”

  “Of course. Yes. What I meant was, in the industry, there are makers who assemble the jewels, but there are also designers...”

  They were silent, regarding one another. Interested, wary.

  “More coffee anyone?” Jeannie ventured.

  Stella was still silent, looking at James, reflecting. Silence. Silence.

  “No, thank you. It’s been delicious but I must get going.” He smiled and stood, then smiled expectantly at Stella.

  “Coming for the run? Bowral? Remember?”

  “Yes,” she said after more silence. “I think I will after all, thank you. Looks like I’m taking a day off. Might as well see a bit more of New South Wales while I’m over here.”

  He picked up a wariness from her as they finished their coffees and muffins. That lovely free feeling of easy togetherness of the early evening still lay shattered between them, despite the fact her stall was safe and he’d brought back her precious sketchbook. It might be hard to win her back, but he was going to try.

  “Let me be your guide for the day, then,” he said, standing. “Southern Highlands, here we come. Thank you for the coffee and cake, Jeannie. Delicious. Can we bring you back some shortbread?”

  “I’d love some. How did you guess? Thank you. Need to pack a snack?”

  “We’ll grab something on the road, but thanks anyway.”

  Jeannie watched as they left, Stella standing back as James opened the car door for her like a gentleman.

  Chapter 20

  It was a blue sky day with a stiff westerly as they headed out of Sydney under the airport tunnel, then burst out into the sunshine in the classy old car, southbound.

  The road was new, flat and straight. As they zoomed past suburbs and farms and forests, Stella marvelled at the scenery, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the proximity of James’s shoulder. He drove safely, she noted. Not slowly, but he didn’t show off, despite the fancy car. She felt safe with him. She studied his handsome profile, a quiet joy beginning to glow inside her. Yes. She could definitely get used to this.

  “I wasn’t kidding about the fresh ideas,” James said, as they settled to a steady 110km an hour past Campbelltown, the old engine purring, sun glinting off chrome. Jeannie was right. The car did have style.

  “Oh?”

  “We’re open to them.”

  “I see.”

  “You’ve clearly been talking to Jeannie about Huntleys,” said James.

  “We talk in the evenings when the girls are asleep. Matt’s away a lot. Australasian rep.”

  “You talk about Huntleys?”

  “All sorts of things,” said Stella. “Jeannie helps me assemble some of my jewelry if she’s in the mood. Handles all my online sales. Social media. She does all of that for me. I’m so lucky.”

  “Nicole does it for us.”

  “Your PR agent.”

  “My sister.”

  “Your sister!”

  “You sound so surprised!”

  “I thought Nicole was your girlfriend actually.” Her voice was quiet, and Stella had to turn to look out the side window to hide her sudden flush. Yes. She was embarrassed she’d read Nicole wrongly. But, more than that, it meant James could be truly hers one day, in a way Damian would never be. It was exhilarating. It was frightening.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not. I guess that explains why you’re so close, and why she’s so passionate about the business.”

  “Actually, she’s more interested in PR than in jewelry.”

  “Really?” Stella turned to James, studied his profile and hands on the wheel, fine hands. Strong. Yes. Sexy. She shivered and watched the road unwinding up ahead.

  “Yeah. All that ‘Antoinette’ business. That’s where her heart really lies. Celebrity endorsement. All of that was her idea.”

  “It was a great idea.”

  “Well, it worked for your business, anyway.”

  “It did. I can see now why she was so furious I got in the way.”

  ...

  He glanced across at her. Her elbow was on the edge of the window and the sun lit up glints of red in her dark hair as it flicked about in the breeze. She’d slipped her feet out of her sandals for the journey and had one foot tucked under her skirt and the other leg dangling, almost completely healed. The swelling had gone and the bruising had faded. It was a shapely ankle, he decided, with a rush of desire. She seemed relaxed, content.

  As if she knew what he was thinking, she turned to him and slowly smiled, and the bolt of happiness that struck him threatened to make him hoot out loud and steer up into the blue sky.

  The engine hummed along and they were silent as the paddocks widened out and they saw more and more sheep and horses.

  “We’re making good time,” James said. “You wouldn’t think it today, but sometimes this road’s bumper to bumper. Do you like waterfalls?”

  “Love waterfalls.”

  “We’ll go through Bong Bong, then. Stop at Fitzroy Falls for afternoon tea if you like.”

  “Sure.”

  The silence was shocking when James parked at Fitzroy Falls. Stella was glad to get out of the car and stretch her legs. She was shy with him again, this stranger.

  “Might stop in at the visitor’s centre and freshen up,” she said, fingers unable to untangle her messy hair. He watched her attempt, eyes amused. Her breath caught as she held his gaze.

  “You do that. Hungry?”

  “A bit.”

  “Meet you in the information area if you like. There’s a little cafe near the information desk. I’ll pick up that shortbread for your sister. Jim likes the stuff, too. Want something? The wattle seed biscuits aren’t bad. Not real bush tucker, but pretty good.”

  James was holding a small paper bag and was studying an information board about lyre birds when she emerged. She came and stood beside him, acutely aware of his tall presence, wondering if he’d put his arm around her if she stood close enough.

  “That tail’s the most beautiful shape,” Stella said, reaching for her sketchpad and capturing the sweep and proportions of the different feathers. “We don’t have them in the west.”

  “We might see one. More likely to hear it though. Yo
u’re never sure what sound it’ll be making. Mimics other birds. Can even imitate the roar of a truck. Here’s the other one we might see. The bowerbird. Look at the trouble the male goes to attract a mate!”

  A poster showed an elaborate display of long grass shaped into a bower, decorated with an array of bright blue objects, including a drinking straw and blue peg.

  Stella turned a page and was sketching again, quickly depicting the glossy black head and beak and the perfect positioning of the deep blue eye, totally absorbed in her work. As she made a final stroke of the pencil and snapped the book shut, she became aware of James close behind her, looking down over her shoulder, so close she could almost feel his heart beat, way too close for comfort. Or was it? She closed her eyes and leaned back against him till his chin capped her crown. He brushed his cheek against her temple and she let one of his arms come around her, gently, as they stood. It felt so right. Delicious.

  A family banged in through the door. “Can I have an ice cream?”

  “Mia! Don’t touch.”

  “Me too. I want an ice cream.”

  “Do you want an ice cream?” James whispered in her ear as they pulled apart and she laughed, snatching up his hand and leading him out past all the souvenirs and into the fresh air and sunshine.

  “That was so lovely of you to bring me an ice cream that day, James,” said Stella, squeezing his hand as they started along the bush track, breathing in the smell of eucalypts and moist soil at the edge of the creek. It reminded her of some of the wilder places they’d camped when she was a child. It was a smell of freedom. “So, you like the bush?”

  “Love the bush. Love the beach, too, and it’s closer. Getting a break from business is important. Come back refreshed.”

  Yes. Fresh. That’s how this felt. Apart from Jeannie’s birthday and the quick hospital visit, her days and weeks had been almost the same, selling all day and creating for much of the night, chasing success.

  “Usually I fly past this place, trying to get back to Sydney as fast as possible,” James said. “So I’m glad to stop today and show you around. I covered a few miles back in school days, cross country running. You never forget the smell of the bush, all those shades of green and brown. The sounds.” A whip bird called.