The Jeweller's Hands

The Jeweller's Hands - Chapter One

The Jeweller's Hands

Chapter One

July 2018

The summer was relentless. Miles could clearly remember when it all started. May the 18th. He recalled his mum being pleased that the sun had finally come out for Harry and Meghan on their wedding day. Trouble is, it had come out and not gone back in, and now the heat was a bitch.

Miles looked at the girl lying next to him and envied her ability to sleep in it. Then again, they did get pretty wasted tonight, so it was no wonder. He'd known Michelle for donkey's years, when she worked as part of the Arctic Monkey's publicity team. They'd gone out a few times, nothing serious, but it had been during one of those times Alex was determined he was going to be straight from now on, so Miles decided to follow suit. It wasn't that he didn't like women – he loved them, he just never connected with them emotionally.

Last night hadn't amounted to much. They'd bumped into each other in Jermyn Street when Miles had been leaving a tailor after a suit fitting. A few drinks in a local pub had escalated to Michelle going back to Miles' new place in East London, a bottle of tequila and a couple of joints later, and they were soon kissing on the sofa. But the drugs and alcohol stopped Miles getting hard. So instead they'd gone to bed and he'd spent ages going down on her. Miles quite enjoyed it, and he'd been told he was particularly good at it.

Michelle seemed satisfied enough, and that pleased Miles. At least one of them felt rested. Even though she knew all about him and Alex, she didn't know the reason why he was so fed up. On the surface it was pathetic. This morning he had woken up to a barrage of messages from friends with screenshots of Alex on The Stephen Colbert Show in the US the night before. The world had gone into meltdown because he had shaved his hair off.

Miles had replied to their messages, laughing it off, saying it was typical Al, changing his look. But deep down he was devastated. Not only were they barely speaking, it felt like a personal attack. Alex knew how much Miles loved his hair. It had been an intrinsic part of their lovemaking. Miles had loved it when Alex had had it cut into soft layers towards the end of the EYCTE tour, and Miles had nicknamed him Babydoll as well as Kitten, because he looked so cute and adorable – even though Miles knew he was really a kinky, dirty little bastard.

By cutting it all off, it was like the final nail in the relationship. Alex's final 'fuck you' and it hurt so much.

Michelle grumbled and shifted slightly on her stomach, her cloud of dark hair obscuring her face. It was like a wound to Miles' heart, remembering the times he would gaze over at Alex looking exactly like this.

Miles had had enough. He had kept quiet but he had to have his say. He picked up his phone and sent a text message to Alex.

'You stupid fucking cunt. You look fucking ridiculous. Your girly fans won't want you now.'

He sent it off and didn't even regret it. He had spent ten years fighting with Alex, sending horrible texts then regretting it. But not this time. He'd gone too far.

Miles went to put his phone down, but he saw a text from an old acquaintance called Marc, from back in his gigging days in Liverpool. It just read.

'Ray is dead'

Miles knew exactly who Marc was referring to. Ray Burnett. Miles had met him when he was seventeen and gigging around small venues in Liverpool and the Wirral, trying to find his place in the world. Ray called himself a 'promoter', in truth he ran a few of the doors in clubs in town. He was unlike anyone Miles had ever met before. His mother was Italian and he was dark and handsome and had that tough-guy persona. He'd spotted something in Miles, and not just his talent. He was an experienced man in his thirties and recognised the cocky swagger of an insecure young boy battling with his feelings.