You Don't Own Me 2 (The Russian Don 2)

Going on his recommendation I decide to house Dahlia on the ground floor in the living room with the French doors. Once the location is decided, my secretary organizes a team of workers to come in and build a bathroom in there. They are also told to move the piano from its present location to Dahlia’s new room. She wanted to hear me play. She’s going to hear me play.

Because I am prepared to pay whatever it takes for quicker service and fly in everything that is needed from any part of the world, the house is ready for Dahlia in five days’ time.

Tomorrow my little fox comes home.

Thirty-four

Stella

For a long second I stand outside the door to Dahlia’s new living quarters, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Then I open the door and sail into the room.

‘Hello, Sleepyhead,’ I call cheerfully.

The nurse stands and smiles. I return the smile. ‘You must be Corrine,’ I say.

‘And you must be Stella,’ she says pleasantly.

‘At your service.’

‘I’ll be outside,’ she says, and heads for the door.

‘You might as well take a break and go to the gym or something. I’ll be at least an hour,’ I tell her.

‘Thank you. I might have a quick swim.’

She leaves and I go up to the bed and give a loud smack on Dahlia’s cheek. I run my eyes over her face. Her hair is starting to grow and it has been neatly combed. I pick up her hand and her fingernails are short and nicely filed, but bare, like a child’s. The sight stirs me. She used to love her nail polish.

My chin trembles.

I still can’t believe this terrible fate has befallen her. If only I had not forced her to go in my place that evening. I feel the tears sting at the back of my eyes, but I grit my teeth and plaster a smile on my face even though she can’t see it.

‘You’ll never guess what I brought for you. Perfume and makeup. Yes, yes, I know what you’re going to say, nobody is going to see you etc., etc., but honestly you really shouldn’t let yourself go like this,’ I say chattily.

Opening my bag, I take out a brand new container of eye shadow.

‘All of this is dermatologically tested so it is kosher for sleepyheads.’ Carefully I apply a very subtle amount of brown eye shadow, blend it with a bit of highlighter, and stand back to look at the effect.

‘Oh wow. You won’t believe how good I am at this.’

I dig into my bag.

‘Now this is raspberry pink lip gloss. It’s raspberry flavored, just in case you want to have a little lick, or … Zane does,’ I say, and apply a coat on her lips, working carefully around the tube in her mouth. I stand back.

‘Oh yes. Ten times better.’

Then I open a box of blusher and rub a tiny amount on each pale cheek. Amazing how quickly she lost her lovely color. I take my hand away and regard my handiwork critically.

‘You look amazing. I really am in the wrong profession. I should be a beautician. I thought about getting you nail varnish, but decided maybe that’s not such a good idea. You know, the fumes and stuff. If you want to have nice nails, I suggest you get your American ass out of that bed quick.’

She says nothing, just the steady whoosh of her ventilator, so I reach again into my bag. ‘Look what else I got you.’

I slip a bracelet made out of organic cotton with little pink love hearts on it that reads HUG ME.

‘Hmmm … it really suits you, Dahlia. I’m really glad I got it now. I found it at a new shop that opened around the corner from us. It was so pretty I got us each one. I’m wearing mine now too.’ I hold my wrist out, turning it, as though she is watching.

I put all the cosmetics back into my bag and sit down next to her.

‘Mark came around. He’s really cut up about what happened to you. He even cried. I was livid with him and I had planned to punch him in the throat when he walked through the door, but I took one look at his face and all my anger died away. He looked terrible.’

I stare at her fingers. For a second I am sure her middle finger moved. I stand and watch it carefully while I speak

‘I started to feel sorry for him. I saw how destroyed he is by it all and he did mean well. It must be awful to know you caused the person you love so much damage. Anyway, we went out for coffee, and we talked about you the whole time. It’s like we’re connected. We’re both survivors of a tornado called Dahlia. Both of us connected by our guilt. I keep thinking what if I had insisted you switch off your phone when I switched mine off.’