The Diamond Cutter's Apprentice – Part 2: The Brilliant Cut

The last cut took three hours. Joris stood behind her, his hands over hers, guiding the stone against the wheel with the lightest pressure. The workshop was silent except for the soft whirr of the machine and their breathing.

"Slower," he murmured.

"I am going slowly."

"Slower. It is not a race. The stone knows when it is ready."

She breathed out, and her hands steadied. The facet came up bright and clean, a tiny mirror in the grey stone.

"There," said Joris, very softly.

He took the diamond from the dop, wiped it on a cloth and held it up to the lamp. Light flooded through it, split and spun, throwing a thousand tiny colours across the walls and ceiling. The whole workshop glittered like the inside of a rainbow.

Mila stared, open-mouthed. "Did I do that?"

"You did," said Joris. "I only held your hands."

She turned to look at him. His face was lit from below by the shifting colours, and his eyes were bright and unguarded.

"Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Yes."

"What did you say to it? At the beginning. You whispered something."

Joris was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, in careful English, "I said, you are not alone."

Her throat tightened. "To the stone?"

"To myself," said Joris. "It is a very old habit."

Mila reached out and took his hand, rough and warm from the wheel.

"You are not alone," she said.

He laughed, shakily, and closed his fingers around hers. "I know," he said. "That is what frightens me."

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Yes."

"Can I kiss you? Here, in the middle of the rainbow?"

"Yes," said Joris. "And if you say stop, I will make you polish the whole tray."

"That is a very cruel punishment," said Mila, and leaned in.

She kissed him gently, the diamond forgotten on the bench, the colours moving over them both. His hand rose to her cheek, careful and warm, and the kiss was slow and unhurried, a question answered. The wheels ticked as they cooled, and the last of the evening sun slid golden across the floor.

When they parted, both of them were smiling.

"Green?" he asked.

"Green," said Mila. "Very green. What shall we call the diamond?"

"Whatever you like," said Joris.

"Then we will call it Not Alone," said Mila.

"That is a very good name," said Joris, and held her hand, and watched the rainbow dance on the wall.

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