Author: V.C. Andrews
Category: Horror
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/47286_15
From the way she kept looking at me, her faint brows raised a trifle, I knew it wouldn't have to be anything earth shattering to put me out of this house --and out of her life. Jillian wanted her life just as it had been before I came. I was giving nothing at all to her. I had never felt so depressed.
But Tony more than made up for Jillian's lack of interest and enthusiasm. I passed my tests with very high scores, the first hurdle overcome. Now all he had to do was grease all the wheels necessary for the faculty of Winterhaven to bypass hundreds of other girls who were on the waiting list.
We were in his posh home office when he gave me the news, his blue eyes watching me narrowly. "I've done all I can to enter you into Winterhaven. Now it's your turn to prove yourself. You scored very high on your tests and will enter as a senior. And we must make your college applications now, and your SAT scores will be forwarded along. Winterhaven is a highly academic school. They'll make you work. They'll supply you with intelligent teachers. They reward their best students with what they consider is good for you, such as special social activities that you may or may not enjoy. If you reach the top of their academic lists, you'll be taken to teas and you'll meet those people who really count in Boston society. You'll be favored with concerts and operas and plays.
Sports are very neglected at Winterhaven I'm sorry to say. Do you participate in any particular sport?"
When I lived in the Willies I'd studied hard to earn good grades. There hadn't been time or energy to play sporting games, when I walked seven miles to school each day and seven miles back to that shack in the hills. Once I reached home there was laundry to do, and gardening, and helping Sarah and Granny. Living with the Dennisons in Candlewick hadn't been that much better, not when Kitty had expected me to be her slave. And Cal had wanted only an indoor playmate.
"What's wrong with you? Can't you answer? Do you like sports?"
"I don't know yet," I whispered, keeping my eyes lowered. "I've never had the chance to play sports."
Too late I realized keeping my eyes lowered wasn't enough when Tony was so observant. I had to keep my facial expressions calm and unrevealing as well. Casting him a quick glance, I saw a glimmer of pity in his eyes, as if he guessed far more about my miserable background than I'd told him. But not in a million years would he be able to guess all the horror of being poor. Quickly I smiled, lest he read too much. "I'm a very good swimmer."
"Swimming is good for the figure. I hope you will continue to use our indoor pool this winter."
I nodded, feeling uneasy.
Directly overhead I could faintly hear the clickityclack of Jillian's satin mules as she went through her complicated beauty regimen before going out. She had another regimen for getting ready for parties, and the longest and most tiresome was the one she performed before going to bed. "Have you told Jillian yet that I'm staying?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the ceiling.
"No. With Jillian you don't have to be specific or give detailed explanations. Her attention span is short. She has her own thoughts. We are just going to let it happen."
Tony leaned back and templed his hands under his chin. By this time I knew this was his body language to show he was in control of the situation. "Jillian will get used to seeing you around, to having you come and go on the weekends, just as you're getting used to hearing the surf pound on the shore. Bit by bit you'll seep into her days, into her
consciousness. You'll win her with your sweetness, with your eagerness to please her. Just never forget you are not in competition with her. Give her no reason whatever to think you are mocking her attempts to fool everyone about her age. Think before you speak, before you act. Jillian has a whole entourage of friends who know how to play the 'ageless' game as well as she does, but she's the champion player, as you'll find out. I've written this list of her friends and their spouses and children, also their hobbies and likes and dislikes. Study it well. Don't be too eager to please. Be clever and
compliment them only when they deserve it. If they talk about subjects you know nothing about, keep your silence and listen attentively. You'd be amazed how much people like a good listener. Even though you might not say one meaningful thing, if you ask the right questions, such as 'tell me more,' they will consider you a brilliant conversationalist."
He rubbed his palms together, looking me over again from head to toe. "Yes, now that you have the right clothes, you'll be accepted. Thank God you don't have one of those awful country dialects to
overcome."
Yet he was making me panic with his long list of Jillian's friends, who represented hurdles I had to jump. It seemed every word he spoke took me farther and farther away from my brothers and sisters. Were they all going to be lost to me now that I'd gained a certain kind of stable ground for myself? Neither Fanny nor Tom could pass for friends I made here in Boston, not with their broad country dialect. Then there was me, I could be triggered into doing something wrong, if I were made to feel too vulnerable. There was only one person from my past who wouldn't raise Tony's suspicions, and that was Logan. Logan, with his strong, clean-cut good looks, and his honest, steadfast eyes. But Logan was not the kind to want to play deceitful games about where he came from. He was a Stonewall, and proud to be a Stonewall, not ashamed as I was of my surname, and my heritage. --
Tony was watching me. I squirmed in the wing chair.
"Now, before Jillian comes down and interrupts with talk of where she's going and what she's wearing, study this map of the city. Miles will drive you on Monday mornings to school, and he or I will pick you up each Friday afternoon about four. Later, when you are of age, you can drive yourself to and from. What kind of car would you like, say for your eighteenth birthday?"
It so thrilled me to think of owning my own car, I shivered and was unable to answer for a full minute. "I'd be grateful for any kind you want to give me," I whispered.
"Oh, come now. Your first automobile is a big event, let's make it special. Between now and then, think about it. Watch the cars on the streets. Stop into car dealerships and do some window-shopping. Learn to be discriminating, and most of all, develop your own style. Be yourself with flair."
I didn't have the least idea what he meant; still, I'd take his advice and try to be "discriminating." While I sat on, still thrilled about that day when I'd have my own car, he spread the city map on the desk
. "Here is Winterhaven," he said, putting his finger on a spot he'd encircled with red ink. "And here is Farthy."
The hard clack of Jillian's heels could be heard on the marble stairs. Tony began to fold the map. He had it in the drawer by the time she was at the library door. Her perfume preceded her into the room. Oh, how worldly and confident she appeared as she breezed in, smiling at me, smiling at Tony, wearing her black wool crepe suit trimmed with a mink collar and cuffs. From beneath her jacket peeked a black chiffon blouse that glittered. In contrast to all this darkness Jillian's fairness was dazzling to behold. She seemed a diamond set against black velvet.
Perhaps I inhaled too deeply, allowed myself to be too impressed. The sweet waft of her flowery perfume not only filled my nostrils, it seemed, to invade my lungs, so that I gasped, almost choked, before I began a violent paroxysm of coughs that racked me and flushed my face with hot blood.
"Why are you coughing, Heaven?" she asked, whipping around to stare at me with wide-eyed alarm. "Are you coming down with a cold? The flu? If you are, please don't come near me! I hate being sick! And I'm not good with sick people, they make me impatient. I never know what to do or what to say. I've never been sick a day in my life . . . except when Leigh was born."
"Giving birth isn't considered an illness, Jill," corrected Tony in a mild, patient voice.
He'd risen to his feet when she came in. I hadn't known men did that for their wives in their own homes. I was so impressed I shivered with the thrill of living with people who had such elegant manners.
"You look absolutely stunning, Jillian," said Tony. "There is no color more flattering to you than black."