Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Daisy
Alow, persistent sobbing echoing through the hall is what next wakes me.
It's about a half an hour before mandated get-up time. I’m still tired in the mornings, and, after Colin’s information yesterday, I understand that it’s jetlag.
Of course it is. How did I allow Stoke and his minions to get into my head like that?
I decide not to wait for one of the Blanks to ‘wake me up’ by medicating me to within an inch of my consciousness.
I get out of bed, shower, and get dressed.
I make sure to do everything exactly the way I’m supposed to.
I follow all the rules. I make my bed and tidy up my room before I slip into the hall and walk to the common room.
No one else is in here this early. I heard the new shift of Blanks coming through the doors about half an hour ago, and I know that Stoke has not yet arrived. It's barely seven.
I sit at the table and grab some colored pencils, mindlessly doodling until I'm found.
'Oh, here you are, Marguerite,' one of the Blanks says as he enters the room.
It’s Philip again.
'This makes a change, eh, lazy bones?'
I give him a bright smile and nod enthusiastically while I internally roll my eyes. How did I do this for ten years? How did I sit and behave as if I was so stupid and compliant? Even pretending to do it now leaves a bad taste in my soul.
I turn back to what I'm doing, my fingers metaphorically crossed that this will be the beginning of the end of the pills.
Unfortunately, not more than five minutes later, a small cup is put on the table in front of me.
'Time for your medicine,' another Blank chirps.
Sue.
I stop the sneer trying to alight my face before it’s noticed.
Sue's sharp eyes have been taking in everything about me for days.
She goes through my pockets, I assume on Stoke's orders. She makes sure that I haven't taken anything into my room, even something as innocuous as an extra blanket because it’s drafty. Maybe she thinks I’ll try to fashion a rope to hang myself with.
She also gave me a demerit the other day for shuffling in my slippers.
But she isn’t the only one. In fact, I'm being watched so closely in general that I can barely leave my room without feeling the Blanks’ eyes following me, which is a bit of a problem if I want to get out of here.
Also, it reminds me of my time in the Novelle house under Nasty Nurse's thumb a little too much. I miss the days when I could walk around The Heath almost freely and I never believed that I’d think something like that.
However, things are looking up. Since Colin's words to me yesterday, at least I know that I'm not crazy. They just want me to think I am.
But why?
I've been turning it around in my mind over and over again. I still can't work it out. It must have something to do with the Bandervilles. Otherwise, why would Joseph have been here pretending to be a doctor?
They have the women in their family under tight control, I remember from meeting the mother and sister.
Maybe that’s what this is about. Power. Bringing me here can't be retribution for killing Joe.
They wouldn't have known about that so quickly.
After all, I was taken from the dance floor in the club within minutes.
If only I could figure out who took me. The voice that I heard on the plane was familiar somehow. It must have been someone connected to the Bandervilles, but I can’t place it and it’s niggling at me.
But if it was the Bandervilles who had me brought here, they’d know by now that I must have had something to do with Joe’s death.
I was taken not fifty feet from where I poisoned him.
So, why hasn’t anyone confronted me about it?
Have my murderous actions just been chalked up to my past?
To everyone but my guys, I was already a killer, after all.
Sue shifts impatiently next to me, muttering something about always having to waste her time waiting. I don’t want a punishment, so I take the cup from the table and tip it into my mouth without any more hesitation, following it with a gulp of water.
'Thank you,' I say brightly, inwardly wanting to vomit for having to play these games.
'Let's see,’ Sue says.
I open my mouth and she grasps my chin punishingly as she looks.
'Move your tongue.'
I do as she says and, once she's satisfied, she gives my cheek a hard tap.
'Good girl,' she says, as if she's speaking to a child.
A scoff I can’t hide bubbles up and I turn away, so she doesn't see it. This woman has been around me five days a week for ten years. But I’ve noticed that people rarely change their opinions even when faced with proof that they’re wrong.
‘Time for breakfast,’ she calls over her shoulder as she walks off.
I stand and go to the dining room. At my designated place, I find that one of the Blanks has already set up my plate. My eyes narrow minutely. Crewes. He always chooses the brown bread and he barely toasts it. He smothers it in margarine instead of butter.
Yuk!
I’ll need to draw on my inner strength to get through the next few minutes and I wish the meds would kick in faster to give me sweet oblivion.
But I sit and plaster a nice smile on my face, the one I rehearsed for so many hours in front of the mirror, and I eat the toast daintily.
I employ all the manners Miss Tremaine taught me, sitting up straight, taking small bites, and chewing with my mouth closed while I try not to notice the claggy, gluey consistancy as it rolls around in my mouth.
It’s an exercise in forbearance and it’s torture to my mind, body, and senses. To distract myself, I watch the other residents, and my eyes fall onto William, the new boy. He sits in the corner. He picks at some porridge oatmeal.
Crewes, clearly on breakfast duty today, asks him if he's finished. When William says nothing, he's reprimanded and told that he needs to speak in words. He doesn't, and I wince as he gets a zap. He yelps and cowers, and I see a wet stain blooming on the front of his trousers.
That'll get him another one.
Looking away, I feel disgusted with The Heath and myself, but I still keep the horrible smile on my face as I take my plate and put it on the wide ledge that leads into the kitchen.
I look around for one of the Blanks I used to know—the oldest one, Douglas.
He was usually here in the mornings, but I haven’t noticed him once.
They sort of treated him like a handy man since he was good at fixing things.
He was a gruff, quiet guy who came to do his job and that was it.
I never thought he was anywhere near as bad as some of the others.
Sometimes I’d be put on maintenance duty, which was basically where I had to follow him around and hold the tools when he was fixing pipes, painting walls, or whatever else they needed him to do.
No one else was given that job, so I guess he specifically requested me.
Whenever I asked him if I could go for a run, he'd usually say yes.
As I leave the dining room, I hear Crewes giving William more trouble, so I stop in front of his table.
‘What do you want?’ the Blank snarls at me.
But that’s just the way Crewes is so I don’t let it bother me.
'Where is Douglas?' I ask. 'I haven't seen him.'
He shrugs and gives me his full attention, forgetting the sniveling William for the moment, and I send a silent command to the kid to eat his food.
'Got the sack while you were go— a couple of months ago.’
While I was gone? Is that what he was going to say?
His eyes dart around a little at his slip-up.
‘You don't remember?' he finishes lamely.
'No,' I say. 'Doctor Stoke says I was in a delusion.'
I don’t notice relief in his eyes as I turn and walk off in what he must think is still ignorance of the truth despite his stupidity, but maybe I just can’t see it.
I go back to the common room, where I resume my doodling. I look at the clock. The pills will kick in soon.
As my favorite colored pencil moves slowly over the page, I wonder how the guys are. Are they worried? Do they have any idea where I am? Is Sauvage unhappy that no one is making Envy for him?
It can’t have been much more than a week, really, so there should still be plenty. I had made several batches, and I was no longer in arrears. So, in theory, there should be at least a month before any more needs to be made.
I think about my guys until my brain starts to go mushy. A little while later, when the movements of the pencil in my hand become sluggish, I'm glad because at least I know I'll lose a bunch of hours to the pills.
When I come back to myself, it's nighttime and I'm in bed again.
All is quiet. I glance at the clock and see that it's 3 a.m. Most of the Blanks take naps at this time, I've noticed.
I wonder if Stoke has locked his office.
When I was in there the other day, the little red light on the camera bolted to the ceiling in the corner wasn't blinking. Could it be that the surveillance system in there isn't working again? The cameras in this place are old. They go down at least twice a week and fixing them has never been a great priority. I can use that to my advantage the way I used to when I’d sneak into the lab off Stoke’s office.
I decide to chance it because tomorrow could be another day lost and, if I can, I want to try to call the guys from the phone in the office.
I get out of bed quietly, putting on my slippers, thankful that they have no soles and don't make any noise as I tiptoe into the hallway and down the corridor towards Stoke's office.
The cameras haven't worked in the hallways for ages. I know because they tried to get Douglas to fix them and he couldn’t, which is why I was able to get into the lab so often before I left.
When I get to Stoke's office, I try the door, and it opens with a soft click.