Flowers of Darkness Tatiana Rosnay (chromebook ebook reader TXT) 📖

to his emails, so he turned up. Once he got there, he couldn’t obtain an answer or an appointment. The place was like an impenetrable fortress, guarded by Bardi, the most sophisticated robot security guards of the moment. There was a lot of money behind all this. But for what aim?

“I believe they’re trying to coax us out of our comfort zone,” said Clarissa.

“Without a doubt. But why?”

“I don’t know.”

She told him then what she’d never told anyone. The tap water that dehydrated her mouth, hair, and skin. The aching tiredness she’d endured since she moved in. The voice she kept hearing at night, which seemed to influence her dreams. The clicking noise that made her jump, coming from nowhere. The way the cat acted. The nosy virtual assistant who knew too much about her past and who spoke to her granddaughter in her absence. And then, although she had decided not to, she told him about the powder and watched his eyes widen.

“Are you sure?” he said.

“It’s difficult for me to tell you I’m sure. It happened so fast. Sometimes I wonder if I really saw it. But I have this.”

Surreptitiously, she took the paper-wrapped mug out of her bag.

“You should take it to a lab,” he said.

“You’re right, but I don’t know of any.”

“I’ll deal with it,” he said. “Will you leave it with me?”

“Okay. Don’t lose it!”

“No worries. But I won’t take it back to the residence. We’ll meet here, when I get the results.”

“How will you get hold of me?”

He pondered.

“I’ll send you a message on the internal system. Something about your book, which I will have read. As soon as you get it, come here the next morning.”

She nodded.

“I absolutely want to discover what we are living in. And you are the only one to be on the same wavelength.”

“Have you talked to any other neighbors?”

“Yes, one night, I rang the door on the right, next to mine, Sean Pomeroy, sculptor. He thought I was crazy. I’ll admit it was late. And that pianist, Louise Fromet, on the fifth floor, she sent me packing. As for your artist friend on the fourth, she thinks we have way too much imagination!”

They both laughed.

“Perhaps you and I are overreacting, imaging things,” Clarissa said.

“Perhaps! But let’s get to the bottom of it!”

When she got home, Clarissa felt buoyed by a new energy. This young man shared her thoughts. How comforting and reassuring. And the fact that he was reading one of her books warmed her heart.

Mrs. Dalloway’s voice startled her.

“Clarissa, your daughter is downstairs. May I let her come up?”

“Certainly, Mrs. Dalloway.”

Jordan rarely visited at this hour. She usually came in the evenings. She must have something important to say.

As always, whenever Clarissa laid eyes on her daughter, she was swept away by proud joy. Jordan was so pretty, so elegant.

“Mums! I came as soon as I found out!”

Jordan was breathless and overexcited.

Clarissa felt puzzled. Whatever did she mean? Jordan couldn’t keep still. She fished around in her bag, and handed a small box to her mother. Clarissa opened it. Inside was a lumpy gold and diamond brooch.

“Is that Aunt Serena’s?”

Jordan danced around the room, while Chablis stared at her, mesmerized. Clarissa couldn’t help laughing. She looked exactly like Andy.

“Darling, I don’t get it! Tell me what’s going on!”

Jordan came to a halt.

“The expert asked to see me. His voice was shaking. You know what? That brooch belonged to some British aristocrat. Lady Thingummybob. He said I could easily sell it to a museum or a private collection. It’s worth a fortune! I have to go put it back in the bank right now. A fortune! I daren’t even tell you how much!”

“And it was asleep in Aunt Serena’s safe?”

“Yes! For years! She must have bought it cheaply somewhere, and not bothered to have it examined. Mimsy and Pimsy didn’t, either. They handed it on without even imagining it could be worth so much. Mums, do you realize what this means? It means I can pay Andy’s school for another year without feeling the pinch. It means I can take you, Andy, and Ivan on holiday. We’ll have a marvelous trip at stingy old Aunt Serena’s expense. We’ll raise our glasses in her honor!”

Clarissa went on laughing as Jordan hugged her tenderly.

“It’s so good to hear you laugh, Mums.”

“I’m okay, honey. Don’t worry about me.”

Jordan stepped back in order to observe her more closely. The familiar green eyes meticulously took her in. Clarissa felt as if Jordan were putting her through a scanner and not missing a beat of her inner struggles.

“You said you made some nice new friends? Tell me more!”

They settled on the sofa. Chablis seemed delighted to see Jordan again.

“Yes, a cute reader, very young. I’m supposed to meet her again, but I haven’t spoken to her recently. And a charming artist, your age, a painter, who lives on the fourth floor.”

She kept back last night’s events and her conversation with Jim Perrier. She switched subjects: And Andy? When was she coming back? They had such a great time.

They both decided not to tell Mimsy and Pimsy about the true value of the brooch. Jordan planned to contact her grandfather, whom she fully trusted, and give him the whole story.

On the threshold, Jordan hesitated fleetingly.

“Just tell me one thing, Mums. That woman François is besotted with, she’s how old?”

Clarissa took a deep breath.

“She’s very young.”

Jordan groaned.

“What’s her name?”

“Her name is Amber.”

Jordan rolled her eyes.

“And what’s so special about Amber?”

Clarissa’s answer rang out.

“Amber never says no.”

 NOTEBOOK

It was easy to get into the building. I only had to hang around in front, pretend to be talking on my phone. I had waited for my husband to leave. He had walked out with a dreamy expression on his face, and pink cheeks. I felt like slapping him. I watched him walk away toward the Métro.

I wondered if I still loved him. I wondered if I had ever loved him the way I loved Toby.

But what was left of