Sylvanne stood and walked toward the door. “This must be what hell is like,” she said wearily. “A place where all action is coerced by threat.”
DAPHNE WAS FEELING MUCH better—she was sitting up on her bed, knitting with raw wool, attended to by a servant girl named Beth. As Thomas and Sylvanne entered she called out brightly, “Daddy, I’m knitting you a winter scarf.”
“Wonderful,” said Thomas. “How has she been?”
“Fine, Sir,” answered Beth. “Her fingers are much more nimble than my own, and she never drops a stitch.”
“What colour shall we dye it?” Daphne asked excitedly. “Shall we use beetroot to make it red?”
“I prefer a nice green,” said the servant girl. “It’s a colour not seen enough in winter.”
Thomas leaned forward to give Daphne a kiss. “Red suits me fine,” he said. “Red as the blush in your rosy cheeks, my love.” But the smile on his face quickly disappeared, for Daphne began to cough violently. Sitting on the bed, he took her in his arms to comfort her, holding her until the cough subsided. “There there, my darling, you’ve overdone it for one day,” he said softly. “We can’t expect you to be fiddle-fit on a few days’ good soup. Full health will take some time.” He told Beth to fetch a drink of water, which he brought carefully to his daughter’s lips. Then he turned to address Sylvanne.
“You can clearly see she’s looking so much better, and it’s all down to you, Meghan. I don’t know how to repay you. Words of gratitude are inadequate to the soaring feeling that has filled my heart these past days. I wish I could embrace you, but the woman who stands before me will have none of that, I’m certain.”
“For once you know my feelings,” Sylvanne said.
“I’ll make do with embracing my darling daughter, who needs love along with her vegetables.” He tenderly took Daphne in his arms.
“Thank you Daddy,” she sighed. “It feels so nice.”
“Poor dear,” he worried. “You’re so light and thin. As if made of feathers, not flesh and bone and skin.” He held her at arm’s length and looked searchingly into her eyes. “Promise us you’ll get better.”
“I want to,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“I’m glad. Keep wanting.”
Daphne glanced over her father’s shoulder and met Sylvanne’s eyes. She took a sudden fright, chilled by the hostile glare that was returned to her.
“Why does she stare at me so coldly?” she whispered in her father’s ear.
“Don’t be frightened, my dear. There is someone who cares about you very much, inside her. Very much. She’s hidden from sight, but she is there.”
“I wish I could see her.”
“She sees you, and that is what matters. Trust me, darling. She is there.”
23
Betsy woke in the middle of the night to the angry wail of a car alarm. She parted the blinds to peek down at the street below and recognized Derek’s beat up old two-seat sports car, screeching back and forth to squeeze into a tight spot between two SUVs. The one in front had been bumped—aglow with blinking orange parking lights, it blared an angry cycle of blips, whoops and wails to wake the dead.
Derek’s car lurched one last time and settled in place. Betsy saw him stumble from the driver’s seat, slam the door behind him and stagger toward the still-screaming SUV. With his palms squished protectively against his ears, he kicked ineffectually at the back bumper a few times. Meanwhile from Derek’s car a woman emerged and sauntered over to him, a little unsteady on high heels. Betsy couldn’t make it out, but whatever they said to each other made them laugh. Then the woman stepped up and laid her hands on the SUV’s sun roof, and in that very instant it stopped screaming, and for a moment the dark deserted street returned to an almost spooky calm.
“You’ve got the magic touch,” Derek whooped gleefully. As she stepped to the curb, he held out a hand, and when she took it he pulled her to him, kissing her so roughly the two of them nearly tumbled.
“Careful,” she playfully scolded him. “Not out here, let’s get inside where it’s private.”
“I can’t wait to get inside,” Derek murmured, and the woman said something back Betsy couldn’t catch. She watched as Derek led her to his door, and heard it slam shut behind them. She stared at the shadows of tree branches swaying on the street for a moment before she