Diamond (Diamond Trilogy 1)

And then, thank God, he turned and stepped down from the parapet, back into the little upstairs room, where Jenna waited for him.

She flung her arms around him and he held her close, and both of them had tears in their eyes when the police officers came up and prised them apart.

Chapter Eight

They arrested Jason and, even though Jenna protested that surely there was no need, they put handcuffs on him before they led him away.

‘I love you, Jen,’ he said briefly, turning his head to her at the top of the stairs.

She could only run down after them, then watch, helpless, as he walked slowly but with his head high, along the front path. Passing Lawrence Harville, he stopped to give him a long, wordless look before letting the officers yank him onwards.

Jenna stood on the steps with her face in her hands, trying not to howl with anguish in front of the remaining officers and Harville. At least there were no press here – not yet. That was the one and only silver lining she could find to this huge, overwhelming cloud.

But that small comfort didn’t last. No sooner was Jason out of sight than a gaggle of camera-wielders appeared at the gate. Harville would have called them, of course. He’d want his moment of triumph to be complete.

Suddenly, her hatred was more than she could bear.

She took a few steps down, then ran towards him.

‘Get out. Get off my property. Get out now before I have one of these officers arrest you for trespassing.’

The cameras clicked and the shouts of, ‘Over here, Jenna! Jenna!’ came thick and loud.

Harville was laughing and she was about to take a swing at him when one of the officers, a woman, restrained her.

‘Take it easy, love,’ she said gruffly. ‘You don’t want assault on your charge sheet, too.’

She gaped at the officer, aghast. ‘Charge sheet?’

‘You’ll need to come down the station with us, Ms Diamond.’

‘Myatt. It’s Myatt now.’

‘Ms Myatt, then. We’ll have to charge you with perverting the course of justice. We’ll need a statement.’

‘I haven’t perverted anything! How dare you?’

‘He’s been living here, hasn’t he, all this time? With your knowledge?’

‘I’m saying nothing.’ Jenna whipped out her phone and dialled her London lawyer. ‘Penny, it’s Jenna. I need to talk to you urgently. Can you call me back. Thanks.’

And then she allowed herself to be led away, to be photographed by at least twenty people, climbing in to the back seat of a police car.

‘Tomorrow’s front page,’ she muttered to herself, as they pulled away from the pavement, and left Harville Hall behind.

She refused to talk or make any kind of statement until she’d spoken to Penny, so she was left in an anteroom to stare for aeons at posters about car theft and a helpline for sufferers of domestic violence. The one that drew her eye and wouldn’t let go said ‘Rat On A Rat: Drug Dealers Ruin Lives In Bledburn’. Underneath was a number to call to inform on suspects. Perhaps she could call it, mention Lawrence’s name. She was tempted, but before she could get her phone out of her bag, it rang. Penny.

The conversation was breathless and frenetic, and Jenna could barely take in what Penny told her.

‘You’ll have to take the duty solicitor in with you – obviously I can’t come up from London right now. But, Jenna, say nothing. Just “no comment” all the way through, until we can meet and discuss this properly. It sounds as if they’ll charge you. We’ll talk it about it after that. Can you be in London, tomorrow?’

‘I guess.’

‘Come to my office, then.’

She rang off. Jenna wanted to call her PR people, to warn them, but she’d had her one phone call and now the duty solicitor was here and it was time for the interview.

‘I’ve been advised by my lawyer to make no comment at this time,’ Jenna warned them before she sat down, but they asked the questions anyway.