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Apparently scrubbing my skin red raw in the shower isn’t enough to stop my overactive brain. In fact, the bathroom has made me more agitated. The obscenity of this place was starting to get on my tits. I’ve no doubt each tile in this room was probably hand carved by some elite overpriced Italian man that charged £100 an hour and £1000 per tile or something stupid like that. I feel bitter about my first day, being assigned a “buddy” who I don’t know if I can truly trust. Being told I’m just here to be Professor Daphne’s puppet. What use can she possibly have for me? I have more questions than answers at this point, and the way I see it is I have two options.
Option 1- Call Frankie to pick me up and quit this whole ridiculous thing and deal with the comments back home about how I couldn’t hack it.
Option Two- play them at their own game, make them think I’ve taken them up on their stupid offer meanwhile bring them all down from the inside. While option two is definitely preferable, I have no idea where the fuck I’d start. Or who I’m trying to take down... I know nobody at the top, I doubt the person running the show is Professor Daphne which only raises more questions.
Before I can make my choice, a knock on my bedroom door makes it for me. Cora comes bursting in with another girl, neither of them giving a shit that I’m standing in a towel.
“Lou, this is Belladonna Yen.” She lets out a little squeal and claps her hands like a seal.
Brows knitting together, I clutch my towel as I look at Belladonna fucking Yen. Of course she’s here. Belladonna is the heiress to her aunt's hotel chain fortune, quite possibly the richest woman in the country. Her dark eyes gleam as she takes me in.
I hold my chin high, refusing to let this bitch make me feel self conscious.
“Well, she’s not a total loss, Cora. There’s plenty to work with here.” She saunters into the room, her ridiculously long dark hair blowing unnaturally as she starts to circle me as if she’s a lion and I a deer. Her dark skin looks like silk, nott a blemish in sight. “I hear you’re the one who’s going to bring down the patriarchy.” She runs her tongue over her teeth, as she continues looking me up and down.
I glance at Cora, wondering if this is supposed to be a secret.
“Don’t worry, this affects Bella as well. She’s here to help with... this...” she explains, waving her hands in front of me.
“I don’t need any extra help, besides, I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” I raise my best haughty eyebrow at them both as they share a look.
Bella let out a laugh, just as poisonous as her name suggests.
“Oh she’s feisty, I like this one.” Cora beams at her.
“Told you she’d be great, just needs a little preening.” I clench my fists as my breath quickens, I think I've had enough of people chatting shit about my appearance today. “SHE is standing right here, I’m not a bush in need of trimming you arseholes.”
“Oh what an adorable accent, are you from the north?” Bella asks.
Letting out a frustrated “ugh” noise, I stomp away towards the closet. I yank open some drawers in search of underwear, only to find the entire drawer is full of lacy strings. How can that be comfortable?! Closing my eyes, I try to calm my rising frustration.
“Do you need some help?” Cora asks tentatively, at least she has enough respect to be wary of my mood.
“Why does she want me to do this? Why do I have to learn all of these stupid etiquette things and wear knickers that leave very little to the imagination?!” it comes out like word vomit, I don't even try to keep my accent in check.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” I say to nobody particular, as I grip the towel wrapped around me like it's a life jacket.
Bella sighs before saying, “Just tell her, Cora.” as plonks herself and her very expensive bag down on my bed. Cora shoots her a wary look, like if she divulges the truth something awful will happen to her. I can almost see her internal battle happening.
“Fine. Come sit down,” she mutters, and I follow her out of the wardrobe.
“So she can follow instructions without having a toddler tantrum?”
Rolling my eyes, I sit in the deep red chair next to the window, overlooking a large pond that I hadn’t noticed earlier.
“If I’m honest Louisa, I don’t know. All I know is what I’ve been told, which is the same as you. I was told I’d get an automatic pass on everything if I helped you.”
She doesn’t meet my eyes, a clear sign she’s lying. But then again maybe she’d be in some sort of danger if she were to tell me how deep this shit truly goes. I’ll have to earn her trust, which can only be done with time. Looks like I’m stuck here, surrounded by a bunch of very good looking liars.
“Daphne is trying to change the way the world works for women. She’s trying to prove that if girls got the same guidance as boys they’d be able to do the same job- if not better because we can multitask...”
Bella huffs out a laugh at her friend's choice of words.
“Do you know I can’t inherit my father’s fortune unless I marry?”
I glance at Bella, not attempting to hide my shock as she gazes down at the floor, her mouth shut in a tight line.
“That’s.. that’s not right, I’m sorry.” I’m genuine in my sympathy, what a shitty situation to be in.
“But you can help change that,” Bella says. “You’ve got the brains and with our help you’ll have them all eating out of your hands in no time so that one day! Maybe Daphne wants you to become the next Prime Minister!”
So this is political? Of course it is. Looks like I'm every puppeteer's favourite today.
“I’ll do it,” I mutter, pretending to be dense. I can dig deeper into this once I’ve earned their trust. Daphne never mentioned anything to do with Feminism in the meeting, she’s clearly spun a web of lies to Cora to get her on board. More than likely leveraging her distaste of the marriage contract to get her to help me. But which one of Daphne's statements were true?
Bella leaps up and claps, Cora looks like she’s about to pass out from the relief. Interesting.
“Now can someone please direct me to the drawer that houses comfortable underwear?” They both share a look and laugh, I’ll admit it’s a little infectious. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to be their friend after all.
“We’re going to need Champagne for this.” Bella kicks her heels off and runs to the kitchen, returning swiftly with her hands full. “Cora, fetch the Calvin Kleins, we’ll break her in gently.”
Before I can take a breath, a whole army of hair and make-up people usher into our living room. I’m talking two or three people for each of us. Hollywood style chairs get pulled out of nowhere. I sit at the portable dressing table the makeup artist has brought in, keeping my mouth shut as she begins to dry my hair. I hated my hair growing up, it had darkened down to a harsh ebony colour from mousy brown when I was around 7 years old, making me look like some sickly version of Snow White. Of course this was a running joke in school.
When the makeup artist starts moving towards me with sharp looking tweezers, I draw the line. “Um, absolutely not!” I say, shrinking back in my chair.
I’m relieved when Cora turns to me and says, “If you’re not comfortable, it’s fine.”
My relief bubble is soon burst by Bella muttering, “You have to get rid of those ridiculous slugs. You can either let Francesca here do it professionally or I’ll creep into your bedroom tonight and shave them off completely.”
My eyes widen in horror whilst everyone else stifles a laugh and I don’t doubt for a second that she wouldn’t do it. Francesca shrugs and raises an eyebrow at me, I guess a little pain can’t hurt? I close my eyes and nod. If this is going to work and I’m going to get to the bottom of this, I have to be all in.
“Wait!” shouts Cora, startling everyone in the room. “Francesca, get the hot wax we need to do the top lip too.”
I almost shriek in horror at the gleam in Francesca’s eyes as she scuttles off to some other portable station they’d set up.
I have to be all in. I chant in my head as I wait for the torture to begin.