Chapter 8: Current Affairs

"Nice place."

Alex rolled her eyes and lugged her suitcases into the apartment, her handbag sliding down her shoulder, dragging the collar of her oversized sweater down with it.

"Nice place? This is Sloane fucking Square. It's not a nice place. It's amazing. As much as I dislike London I'll have to admit that."

Archer chuckled and closed the door behind him after hauling two of her other suitcases in. "Just how loaded are you, huh?"

"The correct question is just how loaded my dad is," she answered, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

"What does he do?"

"He's a lawyer, and a 'senior advisor' at a handful of those investment banks," she said disdainfully, walking into the kitchen and opening a cupboard. She took a glass out and filled it with tap water. "Those retards pay that old man God knows how much just to talk crap about the market going up or down. But hey, I'm not complaining."

Archer looked around appreciatively. "Must be a good life, not having to worry about anything."

"Who says I don't have to worry about anything?" retorted Alex, taking a sip from her glass then washing the rest down the drain. "My whole life has been a bundle of worries. There are worse things than money to worry about, mark my words."

Archer held up a finger and said wisely, "Only if you don't have to worry about money, huh?"

"Whatever," she shrugged.

"You just don't strike me as the type who worries a lot," he said, walking around the sitting area to the bar, leaning on it.

"Just because I haven't published a book about all my problems doesn't mean I don't have any. I value my privacy, thank you."

"So what problems do you have?" he asked.

She turned around and opened the fridge. "First, there is no food whatsoever to keep us alive in here."

Archer chuckled.

"Second, school starts in two days and I still don't know where the fuck it is."

"Oh no," lamented Archer.

"Third, I'm living all alone with a ex-diamond smuggler who has nowhere better to go," she said almost teasingly.

He grinned. "Yeah, that you should worry about."

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit," chanted Alex as she ran in front of him, pushing people out of the way as if she owned the road.

She was quite a spectacle to behold. Her oversized tee shirt had slipped to one side, her sandals were untied, she had a cup of coffee in one hand that kept spilling over, her hair was messy and she was shouldering an enormous bag which looked as if it were made out of real snake skin, with brushes, pencils and stray pieces of paper sticking out of it.

Archer shook his head, jogging to keep up. That woman was mad.

"We're here!" she lurched to a halt without so much of a warning, and he nearly ran straight into her. "And I'm only 20 minutes late! Go me!"

"Well, good luck I suppose, huh?" he offered, giving her a pat on the back.

"Christ, I haven't been to school for ages! What am I gonna do?" she whined, pushing her Ray Bans up and stared up at the grey building with a kind of comical panic. "And it's fugly."

"You'll be fine," he insisted, taking her elbow and started to walk her towards the gate. "I'll pick you up at three. Enjoy yourself."

She threw him a lopsided smile his way and broke into a run again, squealing when literally half a cup of her coffee spilled over and burnt her fingers.

He laughed.

-------------

Archer found himself back on the tube later with a Subway and a cup of black coffee. The train was almost empty- it was past the morning rush, there was only a random assortment of laid-back young men and prim and proper old ladies.

He knew his way around London. He had been here a few times on business, the last time only being a year ago. As he munched on his baguette, he mulled over the mess he was in.

It wasn't too big a mess, as long as nobody knew he was in London, or more importantly, the fact that he was not dead and buried. But he had no money, no job, no connections, no future- he had put all his hope in the diamond, and now it was gone.

He needed it back. Well, at least the money, if not the stone itself.

Hopefully Solomon made it out alive. Heck, he'd better have. He didn't fucking risk his neck for him to get killed without selling the diamond.

And then there was Maddy. Archer still remembered Alex's words. I think you're in love with her. He hoped she got the story out. It was the most selfless thing he had done in his whole life, handing over that little book he had kept with him over the years. Looking back it had been something of a relief, pressing the battered old notebook into her hands. It was as if he was letting go of what he had done. It was like- salvation.

He stared at the empty seat opposite to his.

He needed a plan.

And he needed a way to pay Alex back. Sometimes he had to pinch himself to make sure he was not dreaming. She saved his ass. Big time. More the reason to get his share of the two million pounds Van de Kaap promised to pay for the stone.

Archer wasn't stupid. He could guess why she did all this. He didn't miss the looks she sometimes sent his way, thoughtful, almost shy, when she thought he wasn't paying attention. Sometimes he still dreamed of that afternoon when she said goodbye for what she thought was the last time. The intensity shocked him like electricity.

He didn't really know how to deal with that. He liked her, but not in that way. She was fun to be around, her very presence could make him laugh, but she was too young. She was what, 23? She had a life to live, and better men to spend her time on.

And he was pretty sure she was right. He was in love with her.

Maddy Bowen.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when the train went over a particularly rough bump, and the lights overhead flickered indecisively. Archer finished the rest of his baguette and looked over his shoulder to find that he had got to Hyde Park Corner. Figuring he might as well go for a walk, he packed up the remains of his breakfast and hopped off just in time.

He had never been to Hyde Park before. He was not one for trees and grass and benches. But he squared his shoulders and strode into the park anyway. It was a very nice day, by English standards, and the park was busy with dog walkers, retirees, tourists and mothers fussing over hyperactive children.

Archer walked around for a bit- he needed the exercise. He had mended well, but as much as he hated admitting it, his lungs were not 100% yet, and might never be again. Even now, just walking, put pressure on his lungs, not to mention the light jogging he had done earlier on. Eyeing a bench, he headed for it and sat down, draping one arm lazily over the back of it.

He sighed heavily and looked out at the lake.

Maddy.

How was she doing? She probably thought he was dead. He remembered their last conversation, on the phone. Bits of it anyway. He thought he was going to die, he really did.

I'm in a really beautiful place- I wish you were here with me.

He ran a hand down his face. He was alive. It was a fact too overwhelming to deal with.

Alex. That girl.

He shook his head and sighed.

He looked up when a shadow fell over him.

It was a grand old man with only wisps of silver hair remaining on his nearly bald scalp, dressed in an immaculate grey suit though it was late summer, a crisp newspaper in his hands. He smiled at Archer and asked briskly, "Anyone sitting here?"

"Not at all," replied Archer, withdrawing his arm.

"Thank you," said the old man, making himself comfortable. He shook out the newspaper and started to read.

Archer stared at the lake a little more.

It was so quiet it almost made him uneasy. True, it had been months since he left Sierra Leone, but part of him was still living it. He still expected to hear a bomb go off somewhere, or gunshots, screaming people, rumbling cars- but not here in London. Not in Hyde Park anyway.

The man turned a page delicately, as if the newspaper would shatter into a thousand pieces if he were not more careful. Archer leaned forward a bit to read the headline. Russian apartment bombings. That didn't sound too nice, but it was nothing he had never seen before. If you can survive Africa, you can survive anything.

Moving down the page were reports on earthquakes, and interest rates, and he froze.

CONFLICT DIAMONDS: THE TRUTH

And under that was his picture.

His picture.

Fuck.

The old man caught him staring and said, "Tragic, aren't they? The Russian bombings."

"Yes," he replied. "Yes."

Then he whipped out his sunglasses and hastily put them on.

"Goodbye," he nodded to the old man.

He smiled back and waved. "Have a nice day."

Archer nodded, distracted. "I will."

-------------

"Where the fuck were you? I waited fifteen minutes outside the school like an idiot."

"It's out," he said calmly, his back to her.

"What's out? Jesus, my day was a complete nightmare. I forgot what bitches Brits can be," she ranted, dropping her bag and sketchbook on the floor.

"Alex, I was in headlines today."

She stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"There was an article about blood diamonds on the front page today," he said. He picked up the copy he bought on the way back and tossed it to her.

Alex furrowed her brow. "Which newspaper is that? The Guardian?"

He watched her as she read the article silently.

"What the fuck?" she exploded suddenly. "What moron wrote this? Was it Maddy? I thought she works for an American newspaper."

"She could've sold the story."

Alex threw her hands up. "Did she even ask if you want to go on the newspapers?"

"Well, I did agree to go on record," he admitted.

Alex let out a sound which conveyed just how stupid she thought he was. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I thought I was going to die, okay?" he answered snappishly.

She crossed the floor in a few angry strides and practically slapped him across the face with the newspaper. "Oh yeah? Well congratulations, now you're getting your fucking wish. Either van de Kaap sues your pants off or even better you get deported back to Africa where you'll be shot for smuggling. Smooth, Archer, very smooth."

Archer snatched the paper away from her. "What was I supposed to do, huh?"

"I don't know, maybe decide not to expose the evil workings of the largest diamond firm in the world on the record?"

"I needed her help, okay?"

"No, it's not okay, it's actually pretty screwed up right now. If anyone finds out you're alive you're fucked. Like, completely." Alex pressed a palm to her throbbing head and closed her eyes. "Why didn't I let you die in the first place?"

Archer gritted his teeth. "Well I didn't ask to be saved, did I?"

Alex glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said curtly.

"You know what, you're pretty rude considering the fact that I brought you back from the dead," she sniped, crossing her arms angrily.

"What am I supposed to do then? Bow down and kiss your feet?" he spat.

Archer should have seen it coming. He winced at his smarting cheek.

"Fuck you!" she shouted then turned and stalked away. He heard a door slam a few seconds later.

Archer sat for a while before picking up the crumpled newspaper from the floor, staring at his picture and sighed.

What a mess.

Five minutes later (he knew because he had been staring at the clock rather absentmindedly), a door was flung open and the sound of high heels echoed in the empty house.

Archer turned around to find Alex in a short red dress and black tights, struggling to get a leather jacket on.

"Where are you going?" he asked, trying to keep his tone as light as possible. He actually wanted to strangle her, for some reason he could not explain. He was really, really pissed off.

She flipped her hair and didn't even look at him. "This guy asked me out this morning, I turned him down because I thought we'd order pizza and watch Friends, but I changed my mind."

Archer frowned and stood up, his hands moving to their own accord in a kind of helpless annoyance. "Look, Alex, I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing, okay?"

"No."

"It's just that I'm- I don't know- confused. I just don't know what to do, okay?" he said, looking away.

Neither moved for a while, then he looked up and found her staring at the floor.

Then she lifted her chin up and turned around, slamming the door behind her.

Archer suddenly reached for the newspaper and tore it up angrily.

Fuck it.

I never realised how easy it is to write fight scenes between Alex and Archer till I did it in record time. Those two are destined to fight, really. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!