You Don't Own Me(187)

Wow!

I look around, my mouth open. The room is no bigger than about six by ten feet, but its walls are lined with glass cases and in them are the most marvelous, staggeringly beautiful jewels. There is a large armchair a step away from me and I collapse into it. This is where Jaron sits admiring his loot. I bring my feet up and curl up in the comfy seat. There is a small round table next to the chair with a remote.

I press play and the classical music fills the room. I don’t rate classical music. I have always thought it is boring music for boring people. I kinda like being tasteless and the lover of the lowest common denominator, but at this moment, this piece of music is perfect. It is fast and precise and full of drama. I imagine Jaron sitting here, with a glass of champagne, simply admiring his beautiful jewels.

By their fruit ye shall know them.

For a long time I sit in the armchair looking at the dazzling pieces of jewelry in wonder. For the first time I understand what he meant when he said jewels are frozen music. The clarity is fierce and all-consuming. I know what I have to do.

I spring out of the chair and going back out into the flat I retrieve my handbag and take out the cloth bags I had stuffed into them. It seems I had always planned to do this. I take the cloth bags back to the secret room. For a moment I stand framed in the doorway. I wish I could take a photograph, but I can’t for obvious reasons. Never mind—I will never forget this sight as long as I live. This amazing room that Jaron created. I go to the first showcase. It is not even locked. I press the glass and it springs open silently. I run my finger on the square pink stone. It must be a pink diamond. He has touched this. I take it away from its black velvet stand and hold it in my palm, savoring the weight of it. I hold it up to the light and it sparkles like crazy, scattering little pieces of light on the floor.

I roll them all in toilet paper and bag them all quickly.

In less than an hour the room has been ransacked. It looks strange. I feel a bit sad to think I have dismantled Jaron’s life’s work. But I switch off the light, close the safe, slide the panel carefully back, put the clothes back into the wardrobe and close it. I switch off the light and, opening the door, leave the flat carrying two plastic shopping bags. I go down the stairs and taking a deep breath exit into the street.

No one pounces on me. Phew.

I walk quickly down the road and disappear into the Tube station. When I emerge it is in Victoria station. I buy a couple of small suitcases and put the bags into them. Then I head on over to left luggage, check the bags in and return to the Underground. On the Tube I put the battery back into my phone. I emerge out of the network in Green Park. I get out of the station and call Lana.

‘Hey,’ I say. ‘I need to talk to you and Blake.’





Twenty five


Blake’s private plane drops me off on the mainland. I take a boat out to the island and get the man to drop me off in the sea, swimming distance from the beach.

‘You sure?’ the boatman says.

‘I’m sure,’ I tell him and jump into the water.

‘Must be island love,’ he says, grinning and starting his motor.

I kick off my shoes, pants and top and then I begin to swim. I spot him immediately. He must have heard the engine of the boat.

He is standing alone, a mountain of a man, his hands jammed deep into his trouser pockets, staring out into the sea. He looks so abandoned and so despondent that my heart bleeds for him. This is my man. For better or worse I’m sticking to him.

When my feet touch sand I begin to walk toward him. It is that first morning we arrived. Me coming out of the sea. Him watching and waiting on the beach. I come out of the water and walk up to him, my feet sinking in the soft sand noiselessly. About five feet away I stop walking and we gaze at each other.

Oh God, the sight of him.

In two days he has already picked up the kind of golden tan that I would kill for and there are blond streaks in his hair that I have fantasies about. Something quivers inside me. Damn it, he is just so mind-numbingly handsome it is unfair. Objectively, the guy is more fuckable now than I have ever seen him before. An image of him naked flashes into my mind.

He takes his hands out of his pockets and lets them hang loosely by his sides. I love his hands. Big, manly… Useful. For putting into crab tunnels. For the first time since I have known him he seems tongue-tied.

‘Hey,’ I greet softly.

‘I didn’t run away,’ he mutters.

I barely catch it over the sound of the waves. He sighs. ‘I was working on a plan. You had to know that I chose you over the stones.’

‘I know that.’

‘And I wasn’t part of the team that tried to rob Lana’s jewels either.’