Diamonds by Brian Ritchie, Page 3

  Chapter 1: Emily’s Quest.

  It has been about four weeks since I received a telephone call from my little sister, Louise.

  She called to ask for my help as her teenage daughter, Emily, my goddaughter, is at university studying journalism or media studies (or whatever) and has been assigned to gather a story that will ‘showcase’ her investigative skills.

  Louise has often told Emily about the time I moved from Glasgow to Edinburgh beginning a period that would shape my entire life. Although Louise had been present at various times throughout this episode she has always longed to be told the full saga and Emily’s assignment has given her the perfect excuse to get all the details she has sought for over 20 years.

  During these past few weeks I noted all my jumbled memories from the period and gathering a few photographs I am now eager to impart the facts to my niece who was on her way to meet me.

  This Friday evening I was, again, deeply engrossed in yesteryear, where I have been frequently these past few weeks, when the doorbell sounded at 7 p.m. as expected. I opened the door to be greeted by the beaming, perfect smile I instantly recognised.

  “Uncle Brian.” Emily extended her arms to hug me.

  Gathering the teenager in my arms we hugged and kissed tightly.

  I filled my nostrils with the sweet aroma of her perfume for a few seconds before engaging my brain again and motioned her to enter the flat.

  “What a great room,” she enthused surveying the lavish décor and expensive furnishings as she skipped into the flat with her blond, curly hair bouncing as she went.

  I closed the door as she deposited a large canvas bag, which hung from one shoulder onto one of the leather sofas in the centre of the room, “and what a fantastic view.” She could hardly contain her admiration of the landscape from the French windows as Edinburgh slowly became illuminated before us.

  “Your mother tells me you’re looking for a story,” I asked to begin conversation, “what exactly is it you’re looking for?”

  This teenager - a fairly thin girl of average height and weight - I have known from almost the moment of her birth and since being given the honour of becoming her godfather have regarded her with a great deal of affection.

  She wore a faded denim jacket, a short flowery-patterned skirt, and thick black leggings down to a very cheap pair of canvas sneakers, which were white when they left the factory of origin many months earlier and looked like they hadn’t been cleaned since.

  Removing her jacket Emily threw it over the back of a sofa to reveal an off-pink tee shirt and I was pleasantly surprised at how beautiful she had become since our last meeting many months earlier. I silently marvelled at the way this very pretty girl was blossoming into a very attractive young lady, having all the right curves in all the right places, as she delved into her bag to retrieve several notebooks, pencils and electronic equipment as our minds resumed our mission.

  “Mum has often told me about the time you first moved to Edinburgh and the legend that is ‘My Uncle Brian and ‘Diamonds’.” She laughed as she crossed to lay her things onto the large glass table by the window, which tinkled as each item descended.

  “I hardly think my story is the stuff of legend,” I laughed,

  “I was just an ordinary bloke who decided to venture into the big bad world hoping to find some excitement along the way.”

  “If the legend is anything like Mum’s been telling it,” She sniggered, “I’m quite sure you found some.” She started her Dictaphone.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I record everything?” She asked and I consented with a smile.

  “Emily’s interview with Uncle Brian – tape one” she announced to the machine before laying it onto the table before me.

  She was so enthusiastic as she pleaded. “Almost from the moment I was born I have been told snippets of how my godfather’s life suddenly changed all those years ago. But, all these disjointed fragments in my head don’t tell me about the kind of man you were and how these events shaped you into the kind of person you are today.”

  She used her hands expressively as she spoke.

  “So, I want to know all about the legend of ‘Diamonds’ and how they became involved in your life.

  My assignment has to start with a single occurrence sparking a chain of events that culminate in an unusual conclusion.”

  “I see”, I laughed, “I hope this will fit the bill then.”

  More matter-of-factly she continued, “What we’ll do is get ‘the bones’ of the story, then I’ll type it up and when I reckon I’ve got the bulk of it I’ll send it to my tutors for assessment.

  They’ll then advise me to take out any bits irrelevant to the plot, mark anything that needs expansion, jazz it up in all the right places, add a bit of ‘gravy’ here-and-there if needed, then they’ll give me an A+ for it.

  Job done!”

  “If only it were that simple,” I laughed reviewing my notes hoping I had the kind of thing she was looking for, “if only.”

  “I will, of course, email you a copy throughout the process,” she assured me, “it will take several weeks, perhaps several months, before anyone gets to read it but we’re a very long way from there at the moment so the sooner we get started...”

  As Emily continued to describe the information gathering process my mind switched to my lifelong philosophy.

  Throughout my life I have always thought of life as a journey, which we all involuntarily undertake and none of us choose to travel and along life’s highway we have many decisions to make as each path twists and turns ahead of us.

  From the moment of our birth our parents, family, teachers and friends attempt to equip us for our travels by helping us make the correct choices required to navigate our way.

  Some people choose to believe that with sure and steadfast footsteps we can manage the road, briefly stopping to rest and smell the flowers as we pass.

  We encounter many fellow travellers that share our triumphs and comfort us when we despair. Some companions stay with us mile after mile and some we choose to leave behind allowing then to fall by the wayside.

  Some catch up with us again further down the road and we are happy to renew their friendship. Many we never encounter again and we speculate sometimes as to how they are progressing.

  Others we never give a thought to.

  All along the way we pass many milestones, which do not tell us how far it is to the end of the road - the milestones only tell us how far we have travelled and also many signposts urging us to deviate from our chosen path tempting us with promises of more pleasant prospects by alternative routes.

  At each milestone and signpost we have time to reflect on what has gone before and assess if the choices made were wise or otherwise.

  There are also no maps to point us in the right direction and no satellite navigation positioning systems we can employ.

  Much of the way the highway is well maintained and well lit, with many opportunities to stop and take sustenance. Sometimes, though, the road is less defined and less easy to negotiate.

  We blindly feel our way along seeking a distant light on a dark moonless night with nothing but the stars to guide us.

  As dawn breaks, the highway becomes clearer and we carry on regardless, hopefully with little incident.

  “My story, Emily, begins in the late 1980s, when at 28 years, I had lived a fairly easy life compared with many and had recently been promoted to the company’s offices in Edinburgh.

  Having long since thought of leaving the family nest, choosing to fly on my own, I hadn’t the nerve to try my wings yet and commuted 50 miles each day from Glasgow Suburbs to Edinburgh City Centre for about six months.”

  I lit a cigarette, after asking Emily if she minded.

  “This single event could have been the promotion bringing me to Edinburgh leading me to think about leaving the comfort of my parent’s home?”

  Emily leaned forward hanging on my every word as I cont
inued.

  “It could also be the day I saw an opportunity to leave all I knew and make enquiries about a flat with people who were to have a profound effect on me emotionally, morally, ethically and romantically leading to some ecstasies, some tragedies, some happiness and, unfortunately, some heartache.”

  As it was a very calm evening I opened the French windows to ventilate the room.

  “This ‘event’ could also be the day I moved into a house with five beautiful females in it and although I already had a girlfriend I secretly speculated if there could be any hint of romance with my new flatmates.”

  I looked at my notes.

  “I began to get to know and love my new flatmates and as long as they treated me like a brother I felt I could treat them like sisters.

  I firmly believed that as I already had three sisters I didn’t think there could be any problem with that plan.”

  Locating a photograph, taken at the time, I showed it to Emily hoping for her understanding as it depicted me surrounded by a group of a dozen smiling females.

  “There I am with my new friends.”

  I named each of the girls pointing with a smoky digit.

  “You’ll find out all about each girl as the story unfolds.” I assured her.

  “I believe the single most profound occurrence would be the night of 6th May, two months after I moved in, when I found out that Debbie, as well as everyone else in the house, had a secret.”

  I pointed to one of the blonde girls in the photograph. “That one’s Debbie.”