jack of diamonds

iv

“Where are we going? Not that I care. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s just that I had to get out of there,” Nigel said, squinting against the bright morning light; he was holding a hand up and shading his eyes after the soft lights of the station.

“Why? Do you mean Charlie?” she asked, and he could thought he could hear a note of bitterness in her tone.

“Charlie? Rose is no better,” he scoffed. “You haven’t been there long enough to know what she can be like.”

“No? Why don’t you tell me what she’s like, then?” Sonia said, turning a smile at him as she climbed in the Bentley.

Soon, they were both in the coupe, driving through the countryside, and though the drive was familiar, Nigel had no idea where they were going. Nor did he care at the moment. He seemed satisfied just to be out on the road. He looked out of the window at the passing scenery. The aspens were bending in a gentle breeze, calmly swaying to and fro; the long grass looked to be breathing, or perhaps even a cat if someone stroked the length of its back?

He turned to look at her, letting out as gentle sigh.

“She can be just as crass and coarse as Charlie, you know. In fact, sometimes, I don’t know which of them is worse.”

“Do you mean Rose?”

He nodded. “She either comes up with the idea first, and feeds it to Charlie, or she lets him tell her what he thinks, and then she bombards him with endless questions.”

“Questions of a personal nature?”

“Very personal.”

“And they were discussing…me?”

He nodded again.

“And you were offended?”

“I was.”

“My gallant young knight, is that it?” she said with a laugh.

“It’s nothing of the sort.”


“No? That’s too bad now then, isn’t it?” She pretended to pout.

“Too bad? What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly that. I woman wants to have a man defend her reputation if she can’t do it herself. I find it rather sweet that you were trying to defend my honour. And what exactly were they saying about me that you felt my honour had to be defended?”

“What?”

“You heard what I said,” she laughed. “What were they saying that you felt you had to come to me defence?”

“It wasn’t so much what they were saying, as it was the implication.”

“Oh? Really? And what were they implying?”

“That we’d run off together.”

“Is that all?” she said after a moment.

“What do you mean, is that all?”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m offended? Okay. You’re right; I’m offended. They should be made aware of the facts. The fact they should think ill of me, when it was you that was being taken care of, well, they should know that. We should tell them that you had a medical problem—”

“I did! I told them you took me to Stoke.”

“Yes. And see how much they believed you?” she laughed.

Nigel was silent, staring out of the window at the passing scenery. The hedgerows appeared to run parallel to the road, and at times, there were stone walls covered in patches of bright green moss with dour expressions of grey lichen—they were probably erected hundreds of years ago, he told himself—rising up out of the ground as though part of a forgotten archeological dig.

"Have you sorted out where we’re going yet?” she asked.

“O’Dowd’s place,” he said with a short nod.

“We should at least pay our respects. I mean, someone must’ve told her by now.”

“Of course,” he smiled.

It wasn’t a conversation either of them were looking forward to.