I smile at her. Please be listening, Dahlia. Please respond to this news.
‘He said he almost fainted when he heard it. He thought it was grand, exciting, romantic, and fabulously enthralling … and, wait for it, he wants me to send the rest of my notes because he wants his orchestra to play my symphony!’
I stop and put in as much excitement as I can into my voice.
‘You did that, little fish. You made it happen,’ I say, my voice throbbing with excitement, while my heart weeps with sadness.
She doesn’t wake up when I hold her, thank her, touch her or talk to her.
January
Thirty-six
Olga
It is Dahlia’s birthday. I have baked a chocolate cake from a recipe I found in the American cookbook I bought, and the girls have spent the morning decorating her room with lots of balloons. I have also cooked a lot of food for the boys, and Noah has brought in a crate of vodka. The house looks festive, but there is an air of sadness that cannot be erased. She was the light of the house. When she came she brought fun and laughter and noise and now that she has fallen silent the house has become like a tomb.
I saw Zane this morning and he looked as he always looks nowadays: haunted.
I hear the doorbell and I know it is Stella. When she comes in I see that she has been crying. I open my arms out and she runs into them.
‘Oh, Olga. I can’t bear to see her like this.’
‘Shhh … she will wake up. Give her time,’ I say gently.
She pulls out of my arms and dashes away her tears roughly. ‘What if she doesn’t?’
‘I know she will.’
‘What makes you so sure?’
‘I don’t know why I’m so sure. I feel it inside me. Just like I knew when she came to live in this house that she would become the mistress of it one day. I just know she will wake up.’
‘Well, you’d better be right,’ she says gruffly.
‘Do you want a cup of coffee or do you want to go in and see her now?’
She sniffs and blows her nose from a tissue she finds in the pocket of her jeans. ‘Thanks. I’ll just go see her first.’ She wipes her eyes. ‘I’ve got a surprise for her.’
‘You do?’
‘Yup.’
‘Run along then, child.’
‘OK, see you later.’
Stella
I pop my head around Dahlia’s door and find both the nurses standing by the window chatting. They turn to look at me. Jane, the older nurse, grins.
‘Will you look at this place?’ she asks.
I step into the room in wonder. ‘Wow! Are balloons a Russian thing?’
She giggles.
‘It was that kid Nico. He was like a monkey climbing up the walls.’
I glance at Dahlia. No change there.
‘Well, give us a shout when you’re finished,’ Corrine says.
‘OK,’ I say taking off my coat.
When they have gone out and closed the door I approach. ‘Happy Birthday, Sleepyhead. How are you today?’ I ask as I take my computer out of my bag and put it on the table next to her. ‘Mark sends regards and birthday wishes. I told him I’ll bring him some birthday cake.’
Later I will call Daisy so that she and her mom can wish Dahlia Happy Birthday, but not yet.
‘I’ve realized what is happening in this place,’ I say.
‘Zane is filling your head with classical music and as much as you claim to like that stuff you must be really missing the good stuff by now.’ I take out my iPhone and my Beats Pill Bluetooth speaker from my bag, turn the volume up, and hit play. The sound of the Rolling Stones blasts into the room.
Zane
Everyone is gone. The party is over. I drank a lot, but I don’t feel drunk. I pick my way through the streamers lying on the floor and go over to the French doors and stare into the darkness. All that noise and shouting and she never woke up.
My shoulders slump as I exhale.
Suddenly the spotlights in the garden come on. A fox and her two cubs have wandered into the garden. The first thought that crosses my mind is, I wish Dahlia could see this. Then the thought: she will fucking see it if it’s the last thing I do.
I take my phone out and film them sniffing around. The cubs are small, fluffy, and playful, and I know they will make her smile. They came to visit her while she was sleeping.
The creatures find nothing, and eventually they disappear into the area of the garden not illuminated by the lights.
I sit next to her and gently lay my head on her arm.
‘I got you a birthday present,’ I whisper. ‘Two tickets to Beyonce’s concert. Stella told me you’ve always wanted to see her perform. Here’s the best part, I’ve arranged for you to go backstage to meet her. It’s next month. The 18th of next month. We’re going together. I’m just going to put these tickets right here until the day comes.’