Mistresses: Blackmailed With Diamonds / Shackled with Rubies. Robyn Donald

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Mistresses: Blackmailed With Diamonds / Shackled with Rubies - Robyn Donald


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It was nice of you to come to my rescue, but the end still has to be the same. Of course if I go to jail there won’t be any prob—’

      ‘That’s enough!’ he said violently, seizing my shoulders. ‘Don’t ever talk like that. Do you hear me? I forbid it.’

      He shuddered, and I felt it go through his hands to my own flesh.

      ‘I won’t let it happen,’ he said. ‘Do you understand that?’

      I reached up and took one of his hands, holding it between mine.

      ‘Perhaps even Bully Jack can’t manage this,’ I said.

      ‘If he can’t, he isn’t good for much. You’re not going back to that place. You have my solemn word. Do you believe me?’

      ‘Yes,’ I said, almost hypnotised.

      His face was blazing with fervour, and for a moment I could imagine him capable of anything. He could save me and Grandad. He could overturn the whole world.

      ‘Della, if you believe in me—’

      His voice was shaking. He would have said more but his phone rang again. It broke the spell, forcing him to seize it and answer with an edge on his voice.

      ‘I’ll deal with it as soon as I get in this afternoon.’

      He opened the car door quickly, before the phone could ring again, and we entered the building. His flat was on the third floor, and we went up in the lift, neither speaking nor looking at each other. After that brief, intense moment in the car we were both awkward.

      As soon as I went in and saw Grandad I forgot everything else. He came flying to meet me, as he’d done on the day I came home, and we hugged each other silently. Jack didn’t look at us, but went into another room to make a phone call. When he came out he spoke briefly.

      ‘I have to leave now. Della, have something to eat and make yourself at home. Your grandfather will show you where everything is. I’ll see you later.’

      He was gone. Grandad and I hugged again. We’d seen each other only last week, when he’d visited me, but it was as though we’d been apart for months.

      At last he wiped his eyes and sniffed.

      ‘Last time it was me welcoming you home from jail,’ I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

      He straightened up. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea, luv.’

      ‘Yes, please. Prison tea is horrible.’

      ‘You’re telling me. You should try what they serve in—’

      We slid easily into a discussion of prison tea that we had known, and that got us over the next few minutes. He bustled about in Jack’s kitchen, already at home.

      ‘Baked beans on toast,’ he said, knowing that was my favourite. ‘I bought the beans specially for you this morning.’

      While he cooked I looked around. Jack had made this place sound small, but maybe his idea of small wasn’t everyone else’s. It was light and spacious, with two bedrooms, a large bathroom, an office and one big living room.

      ‘That’s your room,’ Grandad said, pointing.

      It had a double bed and was furnished with discreet luxury in various shades of brown and fawn.

      ‘Where are you sleeping?’ I asked him.

      I followed his finger and opened the door of the other bedroom, where there were two single beds.

      ‘Grandad—?’

       ‘Him and me have to share, luv. There’s nowhere else. I don’t mind.’

      ‘You don’t—?’

      ‘As long as he doesn’t snore.’

      ‘He doesn’t snore,’ I said defensively.

      Grandad nodded in a satisfied way. ‘I thought you’d know about that.’

      ‘I’ll throw a baked bean at you in a minute.’

      He cackled. ‘Come and eat.’

      While I was eating he said, ‘You should’ve told me about him.’

      ‘There was nothing really to tell.’

      ‘You’ve got a millionaire nutty about you and there’s nothing to tell?’

      ‘He’s not nutty about me. This is a gesture to a friend.’

      ‘Pull the other one. He’s turning his life upside down to look after you. Even I can see that.’

      I said nothing, but my mind went back to the phone constantly ringing in the back of the car. How many meetings had he put off for my sake? What else was there?

      ‘Did he give you all that stuff you brought home?’ Grandad asked.

      I nodded.

      ‘Why didn’t you ask him to help you?’

      ‘Because I don’t—’ I started to say that I didn’t want Jack’s help, but the words faded.

      ‘Yes, you do,’ Grandad said. ‘Because you’re as nutty as he is.’

      There was no arguing with him in this mood. When Grandad gets hold of an idea he’s like a terrier with a bone.

      I had a long, luxurious soak, feeling the prison wash away from me. Then I went to bed, slept for an hour, and awoke feeling more or less human again.

      There was a suitcase in my room, filled with the packing that Grandad had done for me. I’d kept a few of the clothes Jack had bought me because they were good quality and useful, but I refused to put any of them on now. Instead I chose old jeans and a sweater. I think, in my daft way, I was trying to send him a message.

      If I was, it fell flat. He came in about eight o’clock, nodded briefly to us, and vanished into the study. From there I could hear him constantly on the phone. When he emerged, about an hour later, Grandad said, ‘Something to eat? Beans on toast?’

      ‘That sounds good.’

      He began knocking up the dish, assuring me that Jack loved it because he’d had it last night. My mind boggled at the thought of Jack eating Grandad’s cuisine.

      I managed to take him aside and say quietly, ‘I’m sorry you have to share a room with him. I never thought of anything like that.’

      ‘I don’t mind. I just want you to be easy in your mind about him. Don’t worry. He’s going to be all right. And so are you.’

      ‘Jack, I want to ask you something. Is that your room I’m sleeping in?’

      ‘Of course. There was no other way of arranging it. Are you comfortable?’

      ‘Yes, it’s lovely in there. The bed’s so soft. But—’

      ‘Right, that’s sorted that out. Is that food ready yet?’

      Over the meal I could see that somehow they had become the best of friends. I guess there’s something about getting pie-eyed together that forms a bond between men. Grandad launched into the story of his life, with embellishments.

      ‘You’ll never believe the fight I had to put up to keep her,’ he said, glancing at me. ‘One bloke looking after a baby on his own! Social Services weren’t having that. They said they were going to take her and find her a foster home. I said, “Over my dead body”. But they wouldn’t give up. Came knocking at midnight, demanding that I hand my little girl over. I told them they’d have to take her by force.’

      Glancing up, I caught Jack’s eyes on me and saw in them a gleam of humour as he recognised the story I’d told him on the boat. But he concealed it from Grandad and asked in a suitably awed voice, ‘You beat them off at the door?’

      ‘Of course I


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