'One for me?' She sat up in bed instantly and held out her hand. Only one person would be writing to her here—Mia, and for Mia to have sent her a letter meant news of Flo. The letter felt cold and ominous when he put it in her hand and she raised apprehensive eyes to him.
'Open it for me and read it, please,' she muttered over the sick feeling in her stomach. 'It'll be from Mia, about Flo. Oh, I knew I shouldn't have gone out yesterday, she must have been phoning all afternoon…'
'Stop getting hysterical!' His sharp tone cut through her babblings and she waited silently while he slit the envelope, read the letter and the enclosure which was typed on thick white paper. Finally he pushed both into her hands. 'See for yourself,' he advised. 'To me it sounds promising.'
The phrases sprang out at her from the typed sheet. 'No further deterioration'—'Cautious hope'—'optimism'—and the room swam around her as she sighed with relief and started reading Mia's covering note while Demetrios dealt with the remainder of the mail, among which was a small, thickly padded envelope. He opened it and put a cottonwool wrapped package in her lap. She raised her eyes from Mia's hasty scrawl.
'What's this?' she enquired.
Quietly he took the letters from her and putting a finger under her chin, tilted her face up. 'Ten weeks ago, outside your bedsitter, we both of us behaved badly. Me, because I was jealous and you because you were hurt. I want to wipe out that memory and this is the only way I could do it. Will you be equally generous, Hester?'
She unwrapped the cotton wool and looked down at her leaves, repaired and re-plated—as good as new, and this time the tears rose to her eyes and she let them fall, to roll down her cheeks.
'Who's being generous?' she growled. 'I was a perfect pig.' She lifted a hand and wiped her wet face with the back of it. 'Please keep loving me, darling,' she whispered, 'don't ever stop.'
'I couldn't if I wanted to.' There was no laughter in his eyes, they were dark and serious. 'It's a life sentence, my love. I'll do it until the day I die.'
Hester's reply was never uttered; with a convulsive gasp, she sprang out of bed and grabbed for her gown. 'I think your damn calculator could be right after all!' she gasped as she fled to the bathroom and shut the door firmly on Demetrios' whoop of triumphant laughter.
The Daughter of Night Page 17