Diamonds Are Not Forever

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN
Juliette

"Spill the beans!" Carol wagged a long-manicured finger at me as we sat around one of the jewellery display counters on the shop floor. Teddy had made himself sparse, mumbling something about back orders and bezel settings. I knew he just wasn't down to listen to our girl talk. I didn't blame him.
"But, there are no beans on this breakfast sandwich." I shot Carol a sweet smile and took a large bite into my bacon and egg sandwich. It was delicious, exactly what I needed to take the edge off my hangover.
She let out a frustrated but playful grumble. "Don't play coy with me Miss St. James. Spill. It."
"Yeah Jewel, you can't hold out on us, was he really that good?" Ashley tapped her fingernails against the glass display cabinet, the necklaces beneath it moving slightly off centre from their display mounts – something I would have to set right afterwards otherwise it would drive me crazy all day.
"Oh he was good." Thoughts of the night flooded back to me in a tidal wave. Of course, I'd had sex before; with a few guys I'd dated previously. But Elliot was, well...different. Good different. He knew what he was doing when it came to the anatomy of a women.
"Did he make you come?"
"Carol!" Ashley laughed and swatted the top of Carol's arm. Then, she turned to me with wide eyes and a smirk. "Well, did he?"
I felt like I was in a really inappropriate job interview, Carol and Ashley on the opposite side of the counter to me, waiting impatiently for the answer to their intimate question to pop out of my mouth.
"Twice." Was all I could manage out, a hot flush creeping up my neck onto my cheeks. I instinctively took a few more bites of my sandwich, needing something to distract my hands and mouth so the anxiety of being the centre of attention didn't set in. Carol and Ashley's own mouths popped open in unison as they processed what I'd said, obviously multiple orgasms on a drunken one-night stand weren't the norm. I wouldn't have known any different; Elliot was my first one.
Ashley scoffed and wrapped up the last of her sandwich in the white paper bag it had come in. "Lucky bitch."
"I was sooo drunk last night. I'm gutted I didn't go home with Kevin." Carol took the last bite of her own sandwich and continued to talk with her mouth full as she rolled up her napkin into a scrunched-up ball. "I mean I was a state, so I appreciate that you took me back to yours Ash. I don't even remember what this Elliot guy looked like!" She crossed her eyes to mimic her drunken face, which nearly made me choke on a piece of bacon from laughing with my mouth full.
"He was dreamy Caz," Ashley pushed off the edge of the counter and threw her rubbish in the bin hidden under the cash register desk. "Bit of a dick though, but very handsome."
"Must run in the family, the handsome bit anyway. I remember Frankie, what a dreamboat he is."
I nodded my agreement to Carol and threw the remains of my sandwich in the bin.
"Frankie seems great. What did Paul think when a handsome young man dropped you both off in a taxi?"
Ashley's eyes went a little blank at the mention of her Fiancé. She cleared her throat and started rifling through some paperwork in the filing cabinet under the desk, pulling out documents for our team meeting. "He wasn't in. He's out of town visiting his parents at the minute, probably for the best with Carol's snoring."
Carol stuck her tongue out in response. Ashley carried on speaking. "Frankie invited us all out next week for his 21st  birthday party, said he's going to swing by the store some time and give us the details."
My heart started to nervously beat against my chest. "I thought you said that the point of one-night stands with strangers were that I'd never have to see them again..."
"Don't worry," Ashley smoothed out the sheets of paper she had in her hand against the glass cabinet and glanced in my general direction, trying to multitask as she organised her agenda. "Frankie said Elliot never goes to those kinds of things. I think you're safe to go to the party."
Before any of us could say another word, Teddy appeared in the doorway that led to the back office. Gently knocking on the door frame, he gave us all a smile in turn. "Safe to come in?" He asked politely, but he was already halfway into the room when he said it, followed closely by Mrs Goulding.
Maureen Goulding, Ashley's Mother, had previously owned Goulding Jewellers with Mr Goulding – Ashley's Dad. Sadly, he passed away a few years ago, and Maureen couldn't bring herself to continue on alone running her late husband's business. So, she passed it on for Ashley to take over, but she stuck around as an employee.
Maureen was one of the best bespoke jewellery designers I'd ever seen, and she quickly became my mentor when I started my apprenticeship the previous year. Maureen was a beautiful looking woman, in her late 50's with a zest for life that she'd passed down to her daughter. Ashley and Maureen looked more like sisters than mother and daughter really, the only indication being the few crinkles around Mrs Goulding's pale eyes and the sprinkle of greys in her light blonde hair. She gave me a warm smile as she overtook where Teddy was stood and placed herself firmly next to me.
"Right, now everyone is here," Ashley went straight into businesswoman mode before our very eyes, "lets talk about the Golden Gifts Project Gala coming up."


The meeting flowed to its conclusion pretty quickly, and after it was over and I'd said a few quick goodbyes to everyone, I jumped in a taxi to my house in time for our mandatory family Sunday Dinner.
My mum was checking the roast potatoes in the oven when I walked into the kitchen and set my work portfolio binder and bag down on the kitchen worktop next to the fridge. She turned her head up to greet me but didn't move from her position, hunched over the roasting tray pulled out from the oven – poking a knife into the centre of each potato. "Hi Lettie."
Her face looked stern, like she was still angry with me, but the sternness didn't reach her eyes as I bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Hey Mum, dinner smells great."
She waved me off and placed the roasting tray back in the oven. "Your brother is in the living room setting the table-" She paused when she ran her eyes down me, "New clothes?"
It dawned on me that I was wearing Elliot's clothes still. "They're Ashley's," I lied, quickly side stepping her and making my way into the living room to find Milo. "I borrowed them from her for the work meeting."
"You look good, they suit you." She threw out over her shoulder as she started to check on the pots and pans bubbling on top of the stove.

I found my little brother in the living room right where my Mum said I would, Milo was laying out the last of the plates, knives and forks around the side table that extended out into a dining table in our living room. When he looked up and saw me, he smacked his hand against his open mouth in a faux socked expression. "Lettie, you're ALIVE!"
"Yes I am, unluckily for you!" I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a headlock, ruffling his mop of copper hair that mirrored my own. He feigned hurt and struggled to break free from my grip. When he eventually wriggled loose, he socked a punch right into my ribcage and slid into one of the fold out chairs we used as dining room chairs for parties, family dinners and occasions when there were more than the three of us in the house.
"Mum is pissed off at you still."
"Don't swear." I ground out instinctively, rubbing my side where he had hit. Milo could pack a punch when he wanted to. "Yeah, I know she is." I added, taking the seat next to him and straightening up the knife and fork he had awkwardly placed on an angle.
"We thought you were dead Juliette, you had us worried sick." He mimicked our Mum's voice, dramatically bringing the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock swoon, peeking his dark brown eyes at me from between his fingers.
I laughed and picked up my napkin to throw at him. "Don't you have homework to do in your room or something?"
He brought his hand down from his face and caught the napkin before it could hit him. "Nah, I've only been in High School for like 2 weeks, they don't give out that much homework that early on." He tucked my napkin into the collar of his stripped blue polo shirt as he spoke. "Plus, teachers don't tend to chase overdue homework from the kid with cancer, its not the done thing." He boasted.
Milo had been diagnosed with Leukaemia a few months prior, nobody had come to terms with the fact he had cancer quicker than he had.
I frowned at him, "Don't use your illness as a weapon Milo."
"I was kidding!" He ground out.
He started to pout at me, and I couldn't help but grin back at him. Like most people with a younger sibling, I'd spent most of my life kicking him out of my bedroom and telling him to keep secrets from our parents for me when he caught me doing something I shouldn't have been. We'd argued so much when I was a teenager, he always wanted to be around me, wanting to get involved with anything I was doing. He was my annoying little brother, but I loved him fiercely.

Mum wondered in with the last plate of food, a heaped bowl of mashed potatoes, and placed it in the centre of the table. She let out an annoyed sigh as she sat down and started to dish food out onto her plate. "Auntie Joan and Cassie aren't going to make it, so just the three of us for dinner today."
Neither me nor Milo asked why, we just started piling up our own plates with our Mum's efforts. My body was craving food, the sandwich from that morning long forgotten.
We chewed in silence for a bit, I suspected my Mother was giving me the silent treatment for my misdemeanor, but when a conversation started up about how school was going for Milo and how work was going for me – I knew I was finally back in my Mum's good graces.
"Did you tell your sister what Dr. Alcaster said yesterday at your appointment?" She pointed between Milo and me with the end of her fork, taking a quick sip of water and looking at my brother expectantly.
"Urm, no." Milo pushed his food around his plate a little, he wasn't up to eating much after the latest course of chemotherapy.
She answered for him impatiently. Setting her knife and fork down and resting her elbows on the edge of the table, curling her hands together in a prayer like motion as she spoke. "He said that there are a lot of new treatments coming about in America, and that he could put us in contact with some clinics over there that offer trial drugs and therapies that he thinks would be really beneficial for Milo's recovery." There was a glimmer of hope in her voice. I wanted to have that hope too, but I was a realist. So was Milo.
"Mum..." I could hear the skepticism in my own voice.
"No Juliette." Her words cracked as she slammed her palms down flat on the place mat, causing the table to shake and a few plates and bowls to rattle against it's surface. Milo jumped, dropping his own fork on his plate. I remained statue still.
"Dr. Alcaster said-"
"Mum." I repeated, cutting her off. "We've talked about this." I glanced at Milo through the corner of my eyes, he was looking down at his lap silently – wanting the earth to open up and swallow him whole no doubt. "How much are these trial treatments in America?" I took a steady sip of my own water, hoping it would push the bile down that was rapidly rising in my throat.
Pinching the bridge of her nose and blinking back tears, all the air left my Mum's body. Before she could answer me, Milo scraped his chair back from the table and stood up.
"I'm going to play X-Box in my room, shout me if you need me."
My little brother always knew when to remove himself from a difficult conversation, even more so when the difficult conversations came down to if we could afford to keep him alive.
When he'd left, my body instantly sagged. It was now just me and my mum on either end of the dining table, gawping at each other. After a few calming breaths, my mother finally spoke again. "We have to do something Juliette. I can't just sit by and-" She interrupted herself with a piercing sob, both her hands flying to her face and pushing away the stream of tears that fell from her eyes.
I was by her side in seconds, pushing her mousy brown hair from her face and pulling her hands into my own to comfort her. "I know, I know."
Chocking back my own tears, I ran my fingers over the simple gold wedding band she still wore, even after my Dad died 7 years ago – she never took it off. "I'm trying really hard Mum, I'm picking up overtime at work, doing design jobs on the side to make extra money. I want to make this right I just-"
"Sweetheart," her tears had subsided slightly, enough for her to look up at me as she spoke. Maneuvering one of her hands free from my grip, she began to stroke my cheek, her thumb capturing one of the hot tears that had managed to escape and fall down the side of my face. "I never meant- I didn't mean to suggest you weren't trying. We both are."
She wasn't wrong, my Mum had been working two jobs for as long as I'd known, dedicating her life to make sure that me and Milo were provided for. When Dad passed away, even throughout her grief, she made sure there was always food on the table and presents under the tree at Christmas. She was my hero.
"This shouldn't be on you to fix my darling girl." Her thumb traced circles on my cheek then fell so she was cupping my chin in her hand.
"I'll find a way Mum, I promise."
I'd said the words out loud, so that made them true. I'd never break a promise, not when it involved the people I loved.