My Mother's Daughter

Chapter 15

The door opened, and in step the servant with her lunch. A pot of tea and mini sandwiches. Elizabeth kept her gaze trained on the book she read as she took a sip of tea. The door opened again. In and out the person went from the room. Aware of the intruder's identity, Elizabeth refused to acknowledge their presence and continued to study the pages of the book. The person left.

The rain patted like the tap of a pencil against the edge of a desk on the window pane. It certainly was not a good day to be outdoors. When she could no longer withstand the itch of curiosity, Elizabeth adjusted her gaze, and sucked in her breath sharply. There stood five of the paintings on easels. Her eyes darted to and fro at each of the pictures.

The first painting showed the meeting of two women; long lost friends. The second seemed as if they were chatting; catching up on each other's lives. The third showed one woman answering the door while the other placed something in her friend's tea; betrayal.

The fourth showed the woman lying in bed looking frail, while her friend poured more of the substance in a bowl for her to drink as a child observed from the doorway; the unknown spy. Then the fifth exhibited a dark and cloudy day and a tombstone with the letters 'R.I.P' carved on it; the burial.

There was nothing more Elizabeth wanted than to fly off her seat and destroy the paintings, but that would only show it had affected her. She kept seated, poured herself some more tea, and pretended to read her book. Ten minutes later, her breathing became laboured, for she was extremely uncomfortable.

Damn you Rebecca, she thought. She closed the book firmly and stood. If the little imp knew that much and was willing to reveal it, then she must have some sort of physical evidence. Elizabeth exited the sitting room, looking back every now and then to ensure she was not watched or followed. There was no one in sight. Good. She pushed her way into her stepdaughter's neat room that smelled very flowery.

It was painted in an off-white colour, and decorated plainly. No pictures or posters hung on the walls. There was no display of anything that she may hold dear to her heart. The room was just another well-ordered bedroom.

There was nothing for Elizabeth to be afraid of, yet her heartbeat accelerated. She was on enemy grounds, and that knowledge was plain and clear with every step she took. Looking around, she decided to start with the chest of drawers. Bingo! The first draw she pulled held exactly what she needed... the diary she had bought for her stepdaughter.

Smiling triumphantly, Elizabeth flipped to the first page and nearly groaned in frustration. Nothing! Not one word was written. She flipped through the entire book and nearly screamed. Every page was clean. She counselled herself to remain calm. Maybe she was rushing her plan because she wanted instant results. She needed to be patient.

"Again Elizabeth?" She swung around. Rebecca stood just inside the doorway.

"Again what?" She asked.

"Don't act stupid, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You're searching again. The only difference this time is that you found what you're looking for. Well, not precisely." All the while she was talking, Rebecca came further into the room and sat gently on the bed. Elizabeth followed her every movement cautiously with sharp eyes.

There is no better player at this game than yourself, Elizabeth thought, and she adorned her features and voice with a mask of hurt.

"I see you don't really appreciate this gift I bought you," She said holding up the diary. "Or else you would have started writing in it."

"Of course I appreciate it, for it was a lovely idea. If only you had meant the gesture for good. Sadly, I knew exactly what your plans were the moment I saw the diary, and I'm not going to give you what you want."

"Which is?"

"Putting my thoughts and all the secrets I hold into words. You may be anxious to know how much I know about everything, but you'll just have to be patient and see what happens."

"What will happen is that you might end up in a fate just like your mother!"

"Please Elizabeth," Rebecca said standing. "Spare me the details. Besides, I don't think you're that foolish to try the same method twice. Do you really believe I'm that naïve?" Shaking her head and wagging a finger, she walked to the door. "Make sure when you leave my room remains just like you found it, please." Rebecca left smiling.

Elizabeth reluctantly watched her retreat in silence. Who would have thought that her brilliant plan would turn to ashes before a fire was lit? She was running out of options. Exterminating the girl was too far-fetched, even though every nerve twitched for such an end. Her stepdaughter may be ominous, but to defeat her, she needed to be one step ahead.

Unfortunately, that was the difficult part, as Rebecca's mind proved to operate on a level she had not accounted for. Elizabeth marched toward the door, then stopped. Slowly she turned around and realised to her profound disgust that she had indeed left the room precisely how she had met it. Muttering to herself, Elizabeth slammed the door, and went to her own bedroom to pace and construct a plan that would see to the downfall of her stepdaughter.