The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales(6)
“Please, Zee,” she whispered, reaching out to stroke his chiseled cheek. “Show me a way.”
Unfortunately, the day before the concert, Ella still hadn’t come any closer to finding a way to get there. Nor had she been able to make any significant progress on that ridiculous, mile-long list she’d been given.
“How are you coming along?” Her stepmother’s voice was almost gleeful. “Do you think you’ll finish on time? Time’s a’ticking.”
Ella dropped the sponge she’d been using to wash out the kitchen cupboards and spun around to face the tall, angular woman. “I’ve been asking you this question for years and you’ve never given me a decent answer. But I will ask again: why do you enjoy torturing me so?”
Griselda raised an arched eyebrow. “Torturing you, my dear? I cannot fathom what you mean.”
“You know exactly what I mean. I bet you don’t even have a ticket for me. I bet you’re just using this whole thing as yet another way to humiliate—” Her words died in her throat as her stepmother reached into her skirt pocket and produced a slip of paper.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean, dear. Of course I have your ticket. It’s right here.”
Ella eyed the card suspiciously. “How do I know that’s a real ticket?”
Griselda held it out. “You can see for yourself. Uh-uh, don’t take it. You will be able to hold this in your grubby little hands once you’ve completed all the tasks.”
Zainon Matthews Live, the ticket said. Ella’s heart beat faster at the sight of the delicately embossed words. The date, the time, the location… it all seemed to be real. So close, and yet so far. “Please,” she whispered in a strangled voice. “I’ve never asked you for anything. In all the years since Father died, I’ve cooked, cleaned, served and waited on you hand and foot. Not just you, but on Nathan and Anastasia as well. Never a single birthday gift, never a kind word in return, but I always still—”
“Always what?” Griselda barked. “Behaved? Did as you were told?” She gave a shrill laugh. “If that were truly the case, would we keep having to punish you? How many times has poor darling Nathan had to take the paddle or the strap to you—to no avail? And as for the ridiculous notion that I’ve never given you anything… is food and shelter nothing? You have a roof over your head, clothes on your back, enough to eat. You get a damn sight more than you deserve. Even now, you’re getting a fair chance to attend this stupid event, although I cannot for the life of me fathom why you—any of you—would want to go. I’ve heard this… person… sing, and really, what he does cannot be called music. Not by any stretch of the imagination!”
Ella sighed, biting her lower lip as the ticket was once again removed from her sight and tucked back into Griselda’s skirt pocket. She was too tired to argue. I might as well face facts… no matter what I do, I won’t be able to go. Bitter tears of disappointment threatened to spill over and she swallowed them back past the sudden lump in her throat. “Fine,” she said at length. “If you say so, Mother.”
“Do not presume to take that tone with me, young lady,” Griselda spat. “Else I’ll think of some more things to add to that list.”
“I don’t think that would make any difference.” Ella clenched her fists. “Your list as it stands is more than adequate. In fact, I might as well give up now. You know as well as I do that your demands are impossible. Ten people working around the clock couldn’t complete those tasks in time for tomorrow evening.”
Her stepmother gave a mocking chuckle. “Such a defeatist attitude, dear. So pathetic. Just like your father. I must admit, I was a little irritated when he died so young, leaving you in my care…” she eyed Ella as though she were a cockroach on a plate of food, “but in another way, I suppose it was a blessing of sorts. You have saved me a fortune I would otherwise have had to spend on real servants.”
Before Ella could rush at the woman and claw her ugly eyes out, Griselda spun around and flounced out of the kitchen.
“I will never understand what he saw in you, you evil bitch,” she muttered under her breath. “Oh, what’s the use? I may as well just give up now.” She picked up the sponge and flung it against the wall. Then the bucket full of soapy water caught her eye. She had just taken aim when Anastasia’s voice startled her.
“Don’t.”
Ella paused. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t kick the bucket over. You’re only making more work for yourself.”
Ella eyed her suspiciously. “Why? What do you care? You don’t have to clean it up.”
“Well, no, but still…” Anastasia trailed off, emerging slowly from the corner in which she’d been standing, silent as a shadow.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Ella asked with a huff. “Why do you always stand around in corners, watching, listening? Do you enjoy seeing me suffer?”
“No.” The slim girl was fidgeting, her long, dark hair hanging over her face, obscuring her features as always. “No, I don’t. I feel bad for you.”
“Not bad enough to stick up for me,” Ella said bitterly, crossing the room to retrieve the sponge. Then she felt bad. Out of the three members of her family, Anastasia had always been the kindest by far; giving her the poster of Zainon, secretly giving her extra food, and even letting Ella have her old iPod when she’d received a new one for her birthday. It had been loaded with all the music Zainon Matthews had ever recorded, and Ella no longer knew what she’d have done without that single pleasure in her life. “It’s all right,” she said, catching sight of Anastasia’s stricken face. “I know you don’t dare.”