April 3
Margaret served muffins and Earl Grey in the drawing room. I held the pink porcelain cup between my hands as she opened the curtains to unveil a colorful rose garden. The previous day's rain had given way to misty sunlight.
"It's Destiny's pride and joy," Margaret said.
I nodded politely and glanced at my surroundings: A red velvet loveseat against the opposite wall and the matching sitting chairs (one of which I was occupying) were the only furnishings in the room, apart from a little silver tea table. Pale silver wallpaper covered the wall in front of me and a built-in bookcase covered the one behind me. The place reminded me of one of the rooms in my old dollhouse.
It was 9 a.m. I had rushed over after discovering a note under my door. A driver was out front, waiting to escort me to Destiny's home. I stumbled about the room in the terrycloth slippers inscribed with "GE" and pulled on jeans, a sweater and a cloche hat that calmed at least the top part of my untamed hair. I felt drunk after my wanderings in the wee hours.
"Destiny will be down in a moment," Margaret said, approaching the French doors that led into the hallway. I nodded. Impatience and nervousness weaved knots in my stomach.
Barely an instant after the nurse disappeared, Destiny's slim hand pushed open the door. She was thinner and paler than she had been a few months ago, but even in her weakened state, she seemed to glow. I stood up, awkwardly stepped forward and reached out to her, and she took my hands and beamed with obvious delight.
"Katherine, I'm so glad you could come." Her voice was a bit shallower than usual, but velvety just the same. "Please forgive me for turning you away yesterday, but some days are more difficult than others."
"No, no, don't worry," I insisted. "Will told me about your illness and I... I'm sorry... I don't know what to say."
And I truly didn't know what to say. I sat there in a stupor as Destiny adjusted her silky lavender robe and settled on the loveseat. My discomfort didn't seem to offend her. She smiled brilliantly, lifted a cup of tea to her lips and took a delicate sip.
"Perfect," she said. Then she turned her attention back to me.
"You don't have to say anything in particular, Katherine. It's not the end of the world. I've accepted it, and I'm dealing with it day by day. Today is going to be a good one. I can feel it. So I'm not going to think about illness."
Her eyes were shining—almost deliriously.
"I didn't call you here to take pity on me, Katherine." She took a deep breath and leaned forward as if she had many secrets to share. I noticed the dark circles under her eyes and fine lines that fanned out from the corners. The weakness, fatigue and medication had left their marks.
"I simply wanted to tell you a story, a true story," she said. She placed her cup on its saucer and looked me directly in the eye. "Now the question is: Are you ready to hear it?"
I nodded mechanically. I didn't understand what this was about, but if her story would bring me any closer to a point of clarity, I wanted to hear it.
"I've been gathering elements that relate to this story for a very long time," she began. "The essential is there, but I don't have every detail. That would be impossible. Let's start at the beginning...
"Imagine a grand mansion right here in London. It was in the 1880s. A young woman named Victoria lived there with her husband Jonathan, whose family had made a fortune in tea or something of the like. They were very much in love, and it showed. Most people would find such a couple quite charming. But not everyone, unfortunately. Jonathan's older brother was this exception. I'm not sure of his name, but the name Edward has come to me over and over again... Yes, I'm almost certain that's it.
"Jonathan and Edward were in business, so would often travel together. Victoria had two main weaknesses: She was terribly jealous and extremely proud. She imagined all of the young women who undoubtedly could tempt her husband when he was far from home. Edward decided to use her faults to his advantage. He dreamed of nothing but seducing her and breaking up his brother's marriage. And then, one day, he had an idea. Edward dragged Victoria to a brothel in a part of London she would never frequent. Right there, early in the morning, she saw her husband sneaking out of that horrid place.
"So the proud Victoria ceded to Edward's advances. A revenge that turned to despair when she learned some time later that Jonathan had only been looking for Edward at the brothel that morning..."
I gazed at Destiny with rapt attention. I didn't know why she was telling me this. But it was a fascinating story—especially with Destiny as the narrator. Her melodious voice coaxed even the most reticent listener into her world. Through her words, I felt as if I had traveled back in time.
"Jonathan, of course, was furious at Victoria for having suspected him of such a thing and for taking revenge," Destiny continued. "Victoria, with her pride, couldn't live with herself. And so she didn't. Jonathan found her in the attic..."
Tears welled up behind my eyes. Sure, it was the kind of tale that would naturally stir up a person's emotions, but this time, it was more than that. My own wounds were too fresh. Any story of suicide was enough to bring up too many memories. Destiny handed me a tissue.
"Are you all right?" she asked. "I tried to keep the details to a minimum, Katherine. I didn't want to upset you any more than necessary."
"No, that's OK, I'm fine. The whole thing is so tragic though. I have trouble dealing with tragedy." The lump in my throat wouldn't go away. I tried to choke back tears as I dabbed at my eyes.
She nodded and remained silent.
"It's an interesting story, Destiny," I whispered. I couldn't explain the real reason for my chagrin. I didn't want to go into that ordeal. It was still too painful.
"There's a reason why I told you this, Katherine. It's not easy to accept, of course, but there isn't any other way of breaking this to you. I called you here because now you can make things right again."
"Me? But what do I have to do with them?"
I shuddered. She couldn't possibly be referring to my suicide attempts.
"Katherine, you were Victoria."
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