The Diamond Ring. Primula Bond

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      ‘There’s no other way of achieving your goal. You know that. But a plan is only as good as its execution and its fulfilment. Pierre lost his head. No amount of brotherly love was going to stop him from having a crack at this girl once the opportunity arose. And voilà! The two of you unexpectedly part, she storms off to Venice, he loses all loyalty except to his loins, and he goes in for the kill. All his own idea. And to be fair, even though I had no active part in it, his scheming in Venice nearly succeeded in toppling Saint Serena off her perch after all. Except the spineless little shit didn’t follow through.’ She stops, clamps her bright-red lips shut and closes her eyes as if in pain. ‘If you need a job doing well, just finish it off yourself. Which is why I am here.’

      Gustav walks over to the fireplace and runs his finger along the mantelpiece, empty save for the horrible little vase and a trio of oversized black glass candlesticks. His hand is shaking. His black hair falls over his face as he stares into the fake flames for a moment.

      ‘Just so I don’t have to stay in this room a moment longer than necessary, let’s get this clear. You are saying this rapprochement with Pierre started off as a ruse? He came to find me in London, pretended to end our estrangement, purely on your instructions?’

      Margot’s eyes snap open. Even her false eyelashes seem to radiate gleeful evil.

      ‘He’s changed a lot in the last six years, Gustav. A consummate performer! All that time he spends hanging round in theatres has paid off, fondling those petticoats, trying on those masks, watching how others make a profession out of lying.’

      ‘Not to me. He hasn’t been lying to me.’

      ‘Especially to you! If he was in this room with us now he’d be lying to save his sorry scorched skin.’ Margot lifts her chin in the air and presses her hand to her breast to imitate a pretentious actor. ‘He’s weak, like all of you. He couldn’t keep it up in the end. Either the act, or his cock.’

      Gustav stares up at the ceiling, his mouth drawn tight. I follow his gaze. The ceiling has the same ornate cornicing as the lobby downstairs, but there is a large, urine-coloured stain running across it.

      ‘I don’t buy it. My trust in him has been right. You may have cooked up this situation, and I suppose I should thank you for that, but you’ve lost your touch. In fact, all of this has backfired. I knew it was genuine, however shaky it felt initially. Pierre and I have been building bridges. We’ve talked about things nobody else knows about. It’s meant the world to both of us. You can’t fake that.’ Gustav coughs and tries again. ‘Thanks to you, we’re closer than ever.’

      ‘And so will you and I be. See? What goes around comes around. It was only ever a matter of time. No one else matches up to me, and you know it!’ Margot puckers her lips ready to take a sip of red wine but pauses, waving the glass in front of her mouth. ‘Remember when we bought this dear little place? How we celebrated the purchase in front of this fire? You were my true love, taking me up the arse, as you put it in your charming English-gent way just now. Ooh, so rough and hard, just the way you always did. Just the way we liked it. I was on all fours for you, I was your dirty little bitch. Right where you’re standing!’

      ‘Don’t change the subject!’

      Gustav clenches his jaw as I let out a stifled cry, but he can’t look at me. It’s as if by pinning her down with his glare he will find a way of shutting her up.

      But she’s said enough already. It can’t be unsaid. We are all her puppets.

      It’s all here, in a fragile nutshell. Their marriage. The damage Margot did when she made enemies of the two brothers. The chaos she’s caused and is still causing, whether or not Pierre has followed her lead. The ugly exchanges between the brothers, the stammered confessions, Gustav’s weary acceptance of his own guilt, his desperation to have his brother by his side again, Pierre taking matters into his own hands in Venice, his clumsy apology to me on the phone at the gallery, everyone trying to hold the fragile peace together. Even though it hasn’t gone according to her plan, it’s still blindingly clear.

      Margot has stage-managed it all.

      ‘And see how cosy I made my little den since I took it over again?’ she goes on, sure of her captive audience now. ‘My special Manhattan collection of whips is still here. Your cute ass has been striped red by each and every one of them!’

      My beautiful, clever, strong lover is locked in a staring match with this woman as if she’s one of those mythical creatures, a basilisk was it, that can kill you with one look.

      I follow his gaze towards her glossy red mouth, the seam of red wine wet between the plump lips that don’t quite meet. They have that swollen look of collagen injections. That must be what’s different about her. As her throat jumps to swallow the wine, I can imagine those lips wrapped round Gustav’s hardness, sucking on him, swallowing his juices. Has he noticed the papery skin on her neck? The artful pussycat bow of the see-through blouse, tied to hide the slight droop under her chin? It’s probably wishful thinking on my part, but up close she looks like she might just disintegrate at any moment.

      ‘What about Polly?’ I whimper, trying to carry my voice across the room to get Gustav’s eyes off his ex-wife. ‘She and Pierre met by pure chance through work. Not even you could have organised that. Not even you could know we were cousins.’

      ‘Adoptive cousins, wasn’t it? Weren’t you the baby they found chucked in the mud?’ Margot keeps her eyes on Gustav. ‘Your connection with Polly was a delightful coincidence, it’s true. So marvellous when everything ticks like clockwork. Tick-tock, she led Pierre right to Gustav. Tick-tock, another woman rocked Pierre’s world and she was history. And tick-tock, she got all paranoid, did an even better job of breaking the two of you up than I did!’

      Gustav doesn’t silence her horrible words. He doesn’t stop her gaze running slowly down his body, over his stomach in its aubergine cashmere sweater, over the belt of his jeans. He doesn’t stop his ex-wife licking her lips as she ogles the crotch of the man who once walked her up the aisle.

      I dig my nails into the fabric of the brocade sofa, scratching for a thread to unravel. ‘Polly and I are like sisters!’

      ‘You weren’t thinking of your sister when you were cavorting with her boyfriend in Venice, though, were you?’ Margot runs her long pink tongue across her lips and stands up, but she moves towards Gustav, not me. ‘The heavens were smiling on my scheme, as they always do!’

      Gustav shakes his head slowly. It’s as if she’s injected him with tranquilliser so that he can barely move, even when she steps closer.

      ‘Listen to yourself. My scheme. You’re the one who’s lying. Every word that comes out of your mouth—’

      ‘Turns you on. Don’t deny it. You’re getting hard now, seeing me again. I’m willing to bet your entire fortune, Gusty, that I could make you come, right here, right now, within seconds. I practised endlessly on your little brother. All I had to do was crook my finger. He was in my panties as soon as you could say “boner”. But it was only ever about you. Getting you to notice me again. Admit it. You’re horny as hell just hearing my voice, Gusty. You’re remembering how good we were together.’

      Gustav shakes his head. ‘I’m wondering what I ever saw in you. It’s gone. That sexiness. That exotic beauty. Even the fact that you were older than me added lustre to it all. There was something transgressive about that, too. The naughty nanny. I’m sorry, Serena. This isn’t supposed to СКАЧАТЬ