Clandestine

twenty seven

-diane-

The girl with bright pink hair is rather insistent. I don't know what she could possibly want to talk to me about. Maybe she wants to talk about my idea of lighting the space or the food of the party. She doesn't know that I had nothing to do with this. It's just a remnant of my father.

Even more reasonable, this girl just wants to suck up to me in hopes of getting some of my money. Too bad for her I don't have much to give her.

Now that Marcia Quintana is going to be paying my financial responsibilities so that I keep my mouth shut, I don't know where that puts me money wise. Sure, I no longer have to pay for much, and I'm sure that if I absolutely needed it, I could blackmail more money out of Marcia Quintana. But I'd rather not be the desperate. I want to rely on her as little as possible.

The girl lifts her eyebrow for the third, or maybe the fourth time. Perhaps she has a problem with this and needs to go to the doctor. Maybe it's some kind of muscle spasm.

She says, "You are telling me that you are Diane Tinsley."

"Yes. Do I not fit what you imagined?"

"Honestly...yeah." She tugs at one of her pink curls. I don't have time for this. I don't know what else my father has planned for this party, but I needed to be on top of it. If a cage of roaring lions is going to be lowered from the ceiling, I'll have to come up with some improv speech on the metaphors of the lions in a cage within a house. My father loved philosophical speeches. Not only did he like to use his brain, but he loves to confuse the people listening to his winding speeches. He loved to spew nonsense and watch the people pretend to understand.

I realize that the girl has been speaking to me, even though I've long since stopped listening.

"I'm sorry, what?" I say.

The girl glares at me, "How can you prove that you are Diane Tinsley?"

"I don't know. Do you want my birth certificate?"

"Yes."

I stare at her. I had been kidding. I'm not sure where I would go to find my birth certificate within this house, but I doubt I would find it before this party was over.

I say, "You aren't seeing my birth certificate."

She just huffs, "If you are Diane Tinsley, I have something very important to tell you."

"What?" I try to keep the fear out of my voice.

She says, "It's about your father."

My eyes narrow, "What about him? He's away on a business trip."

She just shrugs, "Is there somewhere private we can talk about this? I really don't think that you would want other people to overhear what I'm about to tell you."

Does she know that my father is dead? Does she know about the fight within the jail? How could a girl like possibly learn about something like that?

I say, "What's your name?"

"Julia."

"Last name?"

She just smiles, "Somewhere private please?"

I swallow and say, "Sure. We can to the upstairs. We keep it private during the parties.s. However, if you try anything, there are servants nearby."

She frowns, "I wouldn't try anything."

I just shrug and walk away. I assume she will follow me. Hopefully she is smart enough not to lose me in this crowd. A man tries to approach me, probably to ask about my father, but I just shake my head and keep walking.