I felt as though I was speaking to an adult who seemed more in control of her emotions than I was.
Her sudden move away from the thrilled child that had smiled at me just a few moments ago to this coldly aloof creature troubled me deeply. I decided she needed more time. I moved back into clearer waters. “You have a free hour after lunch. What do you want to do?”
She came alive then, and wrote on the notepad.
Red hair. Like yours.
Her eyes pleaded with me to make it happen.
I knew instinctively that she was trying to manipulate me. Children are masters at that. It was obvious she had already asked an adult and been rejected so she was trying her luck with me. Normally, I wouldn’t even consider coloring a child’s hair, but I also understood it would be a bonding exercise for us. I needed her to trust me and let me get closer to her. I decided to think this one out. “I will see what I can do, okay.”
The light died from her eyes as if she knew I would be asking the other adults and it was unlikely to happen, but she nodded anyway.
After lunch, I took Yulia to the activities room where we started a game of tic-tac-toe. While I expected to have to subtly, allow her to win, Yulia proved a bit of a champion at this game. For a six-year old child she seemed to have a natural affinity for spatial relationships and she won, or drew half the time.
After a while, I decided to do something else with her. We filled tumblers with water and I got her started on water color painting. Her painting tugged at my heart. It was a painting of three people in front of a house. The woman was wearing a pink dress and the man was wearing a blue shirt, and black trousers. They were both holding the hands of a little girl with curly brown hair. There were big smiles on all their face. A big yellow sun was shining and there were flowers next to them and behind them was a house with a red door. I assumed they were her parents, but I was careful not to ask about them. Something must have happened to them if Yuri was now her guardian.
Soon it was time for tea.
While Yulia listened, I spoke about tea and the British love affair with the afternoon ritual. I talked about where tea came from, how the different varieties were cultivated and graded. I told her about the tea picker in Sri Lanka. How the women tied baskets on their backs and went up the hillsides to pick the leaves. I told her that at every hour of the day and night, someone, somewhere was having tea.
By the time tea was over, Yulia had heard a great deal about tea and the history of tea, but she hadn’t said a word.
I had once considered myself reasonably clever. I had never failed to entertain children and elicit squeals, laughs and chatter. From Yulia, I got nothing. The girl did smile once in a while, but she contributed absolutely nothing to the conversation, not even by writing on her notepad. I wasn’t discouraged. I had never expected a miracle. Trust would be the key to unlocking the little girl’s fear of speech.
By six, Yulia showed signs of fatigue so I fed her, ran her a bath, and read her a couple of fairy tales from one of her books. She smiled at me sweetly as I tucked her into bed. I wanted to hold her and kiss her vulnerable little face, but I knew I needed to give her some time, so I just smiled back and wished her a goodnight.
I went back to my room and found I still had time to have a shower and change before dinner. I walked my fingers through my limited wardrobe and gauged the sex appeal of the two dresses I had brought. Neither could be classified as a come on, which was a good thing. After that kiss and our agreement to keep it clean, I didn’t want to give Yuri ideas. I settled on the black dress with the high neckline, then slipped into a pair of sensible flats.
It was just a casual dinner.
Nothing more.
Chapter 9
April.
I headed down the marble stairs, my hand slippery with nervous sweat on the smooth banister. Dinner had begun about seven minutes earlier, but just as I was about to walk out of the door vivid memories of what had transpired between us the previous evening suddenly came back to torment me.
I felt haunted and unsure of my own convictions. I still hadn’t been able to make up my mind about how I intended to deal with him, and until I did, I knew I was going to be vulnerable to his lure. Eventually, I forced myself out of my room. I’d never been a coward, and I wasn’t going to start now.