The visit Mother was having one of her frail days. Delphine could tell from the moment she saw her. They had been a fact of life for as long as Delphine could remember. She didn’t know exactly what had happened after she was born, only that mother had been ill for some time afterwards, which accounted for the large gap in her and Araceli’s ages. She knew enough of family history to know that a first daughter was considered unfortunate, but a second one was virtually unheard of. Good Arbon women produced boys. Given the nature and timing of mother’s initial illness, along with this prevailing attitude, she had more or less accurately guessed herself to be the cause, which made her feel guilty over it every time she noticed that mother wasn’t well. Mother’s frail days mostly consisted of being nervous, overwrought and headachey. Although manifested as physical symptoms, it had not escaped her notice that an increase in them occurred whenever father was being particularly bad tempered, or putting pressure on mother regarding their futures.
“Delphine,” mother sighed, “I’m afraid I must ask something awful of you.”
Delphine’s heart jumped into her throat. She rather felt she had already had more than her fair share of pretty awful things asked of her, and her mother’s current state did little to reassure her.
“Yes mother?” she asked, trying to keep her tone dutiful and pleasant. Whatever mother was about to ask her would not be her own idea, and it would be churlish to make her feel guilty for it when she was already in such a state.
“Duncan Brockert is scheduled to come over this afternoon, for tea with your sister. And I know it’s very awkward, that it’s an unkind thing to put upon you, but really… I can’t receive him today. Can you play hostess and chaperone, please?”
“Of course, mother,” Delphine replied, trying to smile pleasantly. She kissed her mother’s forehead. “You rest.”
“You’re such a good girl.”
“Really, it’s not a problem.” That was it? The onerous task that her mother wished to set her was simply receiving Duncan Brockert - someone she had, for some time, been dying to see but continually denied any real opportunity of doing so. She waited for mother’s back to be turned before allowing her mask of polite acceptance to break into the excited grin that she really felt like wearing.
*
Delphine’s hands shook as she brushed her hair. She stared at her face, her own, unrecognisable face, and wondered yet again… What did she want? She had fancied herself, for a time, in love with Duncan, but she was no longer sure that was the case. And at all times, it had been a poisoned chalice. If he loved her, then who was there for Araceli? To win his heart for herself was to betray her sister, that had always been the problem. She supposed that the simple answer was that she was looking for some kind of closure. To know that she had not hurt him. That he simply had no idea, and that for him, ignorance really was bliss.
As three o’clock struck, she and Araceli waited by the fireplace. With a whoosh of green flame, the familiar form of their guest spun into the grate, before stepping out onto the wide hearth area, designed for that very purpose.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Brockert,” Delphine smiled, offering him a clothes brush so that he could make himself neat.