Black Diamond. Havana Adams

all the excitement had died down, Peters heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction. It had all gone off without a hitch. The news outlets, always eager for human-interest stories and new angles on the apartheid story, had embraced their story. Peters had been interviewed by news stations, he had spoken of the plight of these parentless African children and what the outside world could do to support and help. Already letters stuffed with dollar bills, pounds sterling, German Marks had been arriving. All their fortunes were rising.

      Peters strolled slowly through the darkened corridors of the orphanage and inhaled deeply on a cigarette. He thought about the changes he would make: the peeling walls would be transformed, they’d get more beds so fewer children would have to sleep on the floor, maybe they’d get a typewriter for the classroom. So what if he happened to get a Mercedes too? Or perhaps a BMW. Everybody wins, he thought to himself.

      As he approached the baby room, he saw that a light was still on. Matron was completing her checks and now she lingered by the last cot in which Grace lay alone. Peters approached Matron and together they stared down into the cot. The girl’s hazel eyes were open, glassy and unfocused and she made a weak croaking sound.

      “She won’t eat,” Matron said quietly.

      Peters stared at the girl. She looked even thinner than she had just days ago and her breath was loud and laboured. Grace stared intently, eyes identical to Lola’s stared straight at him and for a moment Peters felt a shaft of fear; he fancied that he saw something like reproach in her eyes. Then, he shook it off. He was a modern man, educated; he did not subscribe to old African superstitions. Slowly, her hazel eyes closing almost unwillingly, as though she was fighting it with as much strength as she could muster, Grace settled into sleep. And Peters gave a small sigh of relief.

      “What about her? What if anyone finds out?” Matron asked softly. Peters sighed and stared at the girl again. That she was in decline was clear for anyone to see. Peters had seen the same thing time and time again, babies that came to the orphanage that simply wasted away. He took the cigarette butt from his lips and ground it out underfoot and then he spoke.

      “She is wasting. Look at her, she’ll be dead before the month is out.”

      And then Peters turned and walked away putting Grace firmly to the back of his mind.

      In sleep, Grace reached out, her tiny fist grasping at air, where her twin sister had been.

       PART ONE

       BROKEN MIRROR

       CHAPTER 1

      SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER

      By the end of the night, Lola Wilde would be back to her bad old ways.

      But for now she was a vision in a sparkly Gucci mini dress that by her past form was remarkably modest. The terrace of her mother’s home in the Hollywood Hills was decorated in twinkling fairy lights and the lit pool sparkled an iridescent blue in the cool Californian night. The glass doors into the house had been thrown open and Lola stared at the gathered crowd of her mother’s people. To call them friends would be overstating, Lola thought, Scarlet never really made friends. She just seemed to collect hangers-on, ex-husbands, wannabes.

      Lola stared at the tall Christmas tree that sparkled inside the house and she sighed deeply and wished she might be anywhere but here. The murmur of conversation drew Lola’s gaze and she stared without interest at the guests that had gathered for Scarlet’s annual holiday party. It was the usual crowd of industry people – actors and producers who had long since passed their peak, rather like her mother. The uncharitable thought caused a smile to spread across Lola’s face. As she continued to scan the crowd, a deep, masculine laugh drew her attention and she turned in the direction that the sound had come from. Lola stared at the tall, broad back of a young man in a white shirt who commanded the attention of a pair of blondes, all three were still laughing. Lola shifted slightly to get a better look at the man. He was tall and his Afro hair was shaved low. Something about his profile was familiar and a memory teased at the corner of Lola’s mind. As though sensing her scrutiny, the man turned to stare directly at Lola. Surprise lit up her face. It was Lucas, the pesky kid from next door who had followed her around one summer after he’d developed a crush on her. When had Lucas filled out and shot up? The last time she had seen him he’d barely grazed her shoulders, now he resembled some young male model fresh off the European catwalks. Not that she should be surprised. Lucas Carter’s equally beautiful parents formed the band The Carters, and they were Soul legends, Motown Hall of Famers. Lucas was always going to grow up pretty. Her surprise must have shown on her face, because Lucas raised a glass with a small smirk and Lola had no choice but to raise her own back in a silent toast. For a moment, she thought he might come over but he turned back to his two companions and Lola felt an unexpected burst of rejection.

      “What the hell are you doing?” Lola’s attention was wrenched away from Lucas and she barely had time to react to the words before the glass she held in her hand was grabbed by Scarlet. Lola watched as her mother took a sip from the glass that she’d been slowly nursing all night. She saw the grimace of surprise on her mother’s face. “Water,” Scarlet said.

      Lola gave her mother a challenging stare and then her gaze drifted up and down to appraise Scarlet’s body, which was sheathed in an eye-catching red creation that made her look like Jessica Rabbit.

      “Nice dress,” she drawled. Lola watched her mother’s eyes narrow and then Scarlet handed the glass back to her.

      “I paid a fortune for that rehab clinic, so stay away from the champagne.”

      “Of course, Mother.” The last word was laced with malice and Lola smiled as she saw her mother wince. They’d agreed, when Lola was five years old, that she would always call her Scarlet and there was nothing quite like going back on that rule to make Scarlet furious. And Lola suddenly realised that she wanted to make Scarlet furious, she wanted to goad her mother into some sort of reaction. Lola took another sip of water and flicked her long, straightened brown hair over her shoulders, turning her back on Scarlet. She stared at the glittering white lights that illuminated the grid of streets of downtown Los Angeles and forced a soothing breath out of her chest as she tried to relax. She’d spent three long months in the Arizona desert with no one to talk to, no phone, no TV, no contact at all with the outside world and she felt a seductive desire to lash out at someone.

      “It was nice of you to visit me,” Lola said as she turned around to face her mother again. As they stood toe to toe, Lola felt a thrill of realisation; she and Scarlet were now the same height, when had that happened?

      “Don’t turn this into a big deal,” Scarlet muttered looking everywhere but at her. At her mother’s words Lola felt a wave of anger, she had an overwhelming desire to upend the contents of her glass over Scarlet’s head but instead she took a deep breath and tried to remember the calming techniques that they’d discussed in group therapy.

      “You look pretty in that dress, I picked that for you.”

      Lola shook her head with a small smile, always the same Scarlet. Why bother with an apology when a pointless compliment might do the job? Lola felt the anger drain out of her. She was done being Scarlet’s trophy, she had her own life to lead and a plan that she had set in motion months ago.

      “I’m moving to New York next year,” Lola said firming her shoulders. “I’ll get my GED and I’m going to NYU, to the drama school.” For a long moment, mother and daughter stared at each other and then Scarlet spoke.

      “Do I get a say?”

      “No,” Lola replied and then stopped as Scarlet reached for her, her mother’s hand snaking out to grasp her forearm. They so rarely touched each other that it surprised Lola and she looked into Scarlet’s eyes surprised by what she saw. Scarlet seemed almost regretful.

      “Lola,