‘Thank you, Mummy.’ Our fingers touch and before she can remove her hand I catch the smooth, slightly knobby fingers. Her eyes run upward to meet mine—hers are startled and a little frightened. She is now afraid of me. Afraid of what I am capable of.
‘I haven’t been a very good daughter, have I?’
The little liar begins to shake her head, quite vehemently too.
‘I know,’ I continue, ‘that I haven’t been a good daughter. I’ve been too…obsessive.’
She draws a sharp breath. This is territory that she has been warned not to go into. We might end up talking about that terrible thing that I did to Blake’s slut. She rushes. ‘Don’t worry about all that now. You just get better.’
‘Thank you, Mummy. I was wondering if you could bring me some of my jewelry, too, perhaps the designer pieces. It will make me feel better while I sit here.’
‘Of course, but what if the staff or the other patients pinch it?’
I shrug. ‘Then you’ll bring me some more. They are not too expensive to replace.’
She smiles, a ray of sunshine in her worried face. ‘I’ll bring a little safe for you.’
‘Thank you, Mummy.’
She sighs.
‘Do you know this might have been the best thing that’s ever happened to me, after all?’
‘Oh?’
‘I was too spoilt and selfish. I think I’d like to build new bridges with you and Daddy. Start afresh and all that. I hope with time,’ I pause and drop my head, ‘you and Daddy and Blake…and his wife will find it in your hearts to forgive me for what I have done.’
‘Oh, darling. There is nothing to forgive. Certainly not on my side, anyway.’
‘I disgraced you and Daddy.’
‘Never mind. No use crying over spilt milk.’
‘I think the meds are helping. I feel a lot calmer now. A bit as if I am floating on a cloud.’
She smiles. ‘Probably a good thing. You’ve always been a little intense.’
I laugh. And so does she. She will be my ally.
After a while she leaves. I am happy to see her go. I find her exhausting, but I need her. I stand at the window. I can see Daddy’s Rolls parked close to the entrance. I wait by the window until I see her emerge from the building and cross the road. As she is about to get into the car, someone enters my room. I turn around.
It is Angel. I smile at her.
‘How are we today?’ she says. Her voice is jaunty.
‘I have a surprise for you,’ I say.
‘When people say that to me it usually means they have soiled the bed or something equally revolting.’
I open my palm and show her the brooch.
She gasps and comes forward. ‘Oh, it’s beautiful, Lady Victoria.’ And then she stops and looks at me. ‘It’s real, isn’t it?’
‘Of course.’
‘I don’t think we are allowed to take such expensive gifts from the patients.’
‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’
‘Well,’ she says doubtfully.
‘Besides, I’m not allowed jewelry. Let alone something so sharp.’
‘That’s true. It is very sharp. You could hurt yourself with it.’
‘Exactly. Why don’t we trade?’
‘Trade?’ Her tone becomes suspicious.
‘In exchange, you let me use your cell phone sometimes to make local calls. How about that?’
‘Local calls.’
‘Just to friends and family, if I start to miss them too much…’
Her face changes. ‘I guess that would be OK.’
‘Oh thank you, Angel. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me. Thank you.’ I take a step forward and place the brooch into her palm.
We look at each other—both our eyes are shining. She doesn’t know it, but both of us have just made a bargain with the devil.
Eleven
Lana Barrington
There is hardly a breeze to ameliorate the relentless humidity that extends into the night like the embrace of an unwanted lover. The wet heat hits us like a wall when we exit the hotel. We have dinner in a beautiful restaurant in the middle of Bangkok then Blake takes me to a club. It is darkly lit, smoky, and throbbing with sultry music, but it is also air conditioned and wonderfully cool. It seems full of European men and scantily clad, snake-hipped local girls. All the tables and booths face a round stage.
‘What is this place?’ I ask Blake.
‘It’s a place where everything is allowed.’
There is a stage lit with a red light.
We are taken to a booth by a girl in a lace bustier, leather knickers and black stockings. ‘You like something to drink?’ she asks.
‘Give us a couple of your most potent cocktails,’ Blake says.
She nods, smiles and leaves.
I look around me. ‘We are in a sex club, aren’t we?’
Blake grins. ‘I love that it’s taken you all this time to figure that out.’
The drinks arrive, umbrellas galore. I take a sip. It is deceptively cloying. I should be careful. I have already had a few over dinner.
‘I’ve changed my mind. Get me a whiskey,’ Blake tells the waitress.
She nods and leaves.
The blue neon light comes on over the stage. A girl walks on. She is dressed in a white bikini top and matching thong. The costume glows against her dusky skin. She has long black hair that reaches her waist. A tiny little man with a sickly yellow complexion runs in front of her and deposits a stool at the edge of the stage. She gyrates and dances around the stool. I have a sudden fear that she is going to drop a wet gerbil.
Slowly she peels her sticky thong off. Underneath she is wearing a Brazilian wax. I squirm in my seat. The memory of Billie telling me she felt as if she had stolen a part of their soul by watching them is still fresh in my mind. Besides, I am jealous, I am not sure I want Blake to be watching this. He turns his eyes toward me.
‘Just think of her as a performer. I only want you.’
I look into his eyes. Unconvinced, I touch him between the legs. He is un-aroused. It may be childish of me, but that makes me feel a whole lot better. I leave his eyes and concentrate on the stage. The girl sits on the stool and suddenly lifts her legs athletically off the ground. With her knees held straight she opens them into a wide V towards the audience. All her bits are exposed to the audience. A spotlight is shone onto her vagina. It is an uncomfortable moment for me. I keep thinking that Blake might be attracted to her. I hate the thought.