“In a dance studio in London,” she said. “I was good, but she convinced me that I was not good enough. ‘Why waste your best years?’ she asked. It was as simple as that, and voilà, here I am, not wasting them.”
Portia widened her smile. “I’ll drink to tha
t,” she said, and sipped her coffee.
Camelia looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get going,” she said.
“Where to?” I asked. I tried to cut my egg the same dainty way she had.
“London,” she said, and rose. “I wish you luck, Roxy. But take my advice, get a little terrified,” she added. “Take care, Portia.” She blew her a kiss. Portia blew one back, and we watched her walk out.
“Camelia is real British upper crust. She has a number of royals as clients. I love her.”
“I thought we couldn’t mention who our clients were,” I said.
“We can talk to each other, sweetie. We can’t talk out of school, but we still don’t mention names. And don’t think Mrs. Brittany wouldn’t find out if you violated one of her rules. She has eyes and ears everywhere, and I don’t mean just Randy Carr. Let me give you some early advice, too. You’ll meet others here from time to time. Don’t ever think you can confide in anyone. Whoever it is, she’ll betray you, if not to look better to Mrs. Brittany, then to protect the organization, which means protecting herself.” She smiled. “You’ll actually get to be the same way. If you make it,” she added.
She sipped her coffee. I was getting tired of the big if.
“I’ll make it,” I said. “If I want to make it.”
“More power to you,” she said.
We heard footsteps in the hallway. I turned toward the door just as Mrs. Brittany entered, followed by Mrs. Pratt.
“Good,” Mrs. Brittany said, seeing that I was finishing up my breakfast. “You’re on schedule. Mrs. Pratt?”
Mrs. Pratt stepped up and put a card beside me. It was my training schedule. There were activities for me all day right up to dinner.
“I will return for dinner,” Mrs. Brittany said. “Please keep in mind that every meal and just about every activity you do in this house is an education and a test.”
“What isn’t?” I asked. “I imagine someone is watching me sleep.”
“Could be,” she said.
I glanced at Portia, who kept her face locked in a tiny smile.
Mrs. Brittany looked at Mrs. Pratt and then back at me, nodding at the card. “That’s your schedule for the foreseeable future,” she said. She started out, then paused and turned back to me. “If you have any problems today, see Mrs. Pratt.” They looked at each other, and she turned back to me one final time to add, “I suppose the big question to answer is whether you will still be here when I return.”
“I’ll be here,” I said.
“Don’t let us both down, then,” she replied, and left.
“She likes you,” Portia said immediately.
“You’re kidding. If she likes me, I pity someone she doesn’t like.”
“Exactly. That was our point.”
“How can you tell, anyway?”
“I’ve been around her long enough. After a while, you’ll figure it out for yourself,” she said, and finished her coffee.
I looked at the empty doorway.
There’s a woman who would be a match for my father, I thought, and finally smiled, thinking about the two of them in the same room talking about me. I’d love to be a fly on the wall that day. My smile widened.
“What’s so funny?” Portia asked.