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Helen does not speak during the taxi ride. Her nerves are on edge, stomach in free fall. Is this how paranoia begins? A suspicion others are scheming, hatching plans for you?To distract herself from her thoughts, she looks out of the window, watches the city and its nightlife scrolling by. The people on the streets. Surely their lives simpler than her own.”It’ll be great. You’ll see,” Martin says.She remains silent, still fuming from earlier. Her throat is dry, thinks she might yet cry.”I’ve never seen you look so beautiful,” he tells her. But she refuses to face him.At Marcus’s building, the concierge has rung up to let him know they are here. But it is Erika who they see when the elevator doors slide open.”Welcome,” Erika says, her eyes instantly annexing Helen. “The pair of you are most welcome.” But she does not look at Martin, has eyes and words only for Helen, her voice insinuating, intimate: “I am so pleased you are, Helen. Martin has been so cruel to tease Erika, saying his lovely wife might be otherwise engaged, tonight of all nights.” It is only now she looks at Martin, a glint of satisfaction beaming from her eyes. “But I was sure neither of you would want to make sadness for poor Erika.”Erika’s arms reaching for Helen, pulling her close, her cheek pressed against warm, soft bare cleavage. When they separate, Erika takes hold of both Helen’s hands and looks intently into her eyes before depositing sticky kisses on each cheek. “Such beauty!” she tells Helen, her eyes full of light and delight.Martin smiling, watching them together, saying to Erika, “As soon as I told Helen how much you wanted her to be here tonight, she couldn’t wait, could you, darling?”She turns to him, scowling now. “That’s right, darling. I couldn’t wait, could I?”But Erika has not caught the bile in Helen’s tone. “Good. This is so pleasing for me. From now on you and I, Helen, will be closest friends. And Uri too. He will be so pleased to see you again. He often speaks of you.” At the mention of Uri, Helen is a co-conspirator, the look between the two women as thick as thieves. “Well, don’t just stand there, come, come. There are so many people here for you to enjoy — though I am afraid Marcus is hiding away with Uri. They have great dealings to attend to. Later I promise to introduce you. I think you will be liking Marcus immensely, Helen. He is such a fine figure. A bloody good sort,” she says, hamming up an English upper-class accent.A Japanese maid in a micro-skirted uniform appears as if from thin air, eager to take their coats. Helen is reluctant to relinquish hers, dreads forgoing the modesty it assures her. The girl is already behind her, has begun to ease it from her shoulders. The swiftness of the manoeuvre stuns Helen into acquiescence. When she is free of the garment, Erika’s eyes sweep over her body and down to her legs, her hands reaching out and lifting the hem of her dress, almost revealing her underwear as she rubs the material between her fingers, saying, “Such a fine garment to have chosen. Only the sylph Helen could make such a unique garment a success.”Helen wants the floor beneath her to open up. Her fingers quickly brush down her dress against her thighs, desperate to flatten the material, fix it like paper to a wall.Erika leads them through to the main reception, a large open lounge that has one entire wall constructed of plate glass. But Helen hardly notices her surroundings, is still smarting from Erika’s comment about her dress.The room is minimally furnished, post-modern, the Beşevler escort walls adorned with enormous abstracts. Conversation and laughter electrify the air. There must be at least a hundred people present, Helen thinks as she scans the room looking for the type of women and men, the escorts she had seen at the party in Vegas.Perhaps Martin has got it wrong. Maybe tonight is just a social gathering, and Erika won’t be seducing her after all. When Erika turns from them for a moment to speak to another guest, Helen feels a weight has lifted from her shoulders.What a fool to have been so nervous about coming here. She smiles at Martin and says, “I’m sorry darling.””What for?””Being a complete bitch earlier.””See, I knew you’d be okay once we were here.””I’ve decided I’m going to enjoy tonight.””Good girl,” he says, and kisses her lightly on the top of her forehead.Erika returns and says, “Come,” and takes Helen by the hand and leads her away to meet people, Martin trailing behind.There are introductions, and Helen bluffs an air of sophistication, her courage fortified by the necklace, the jewel against her throat, though deep down she doubts she fools anyone. The guests are an assortment of businesspeople from various parts of Europe. Others are people from the arts: writers, a famous poet, a painter, and a couple of rock musicians. Many people seem to know each other.The conversation becomes loud and animated, laughter and excitement eddying back and forth through the room as she and Martin are paraded from clique to clique, introduced to practically everyone. Erika paints a picture of Martin Helen hardly recognises. She grows proud to think her husband is so highly regarded. Everyone seems pleased to meet her too. “Such a beautiful wife,” she hears time and time over.She scans the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of maybe some other GlobalKudos employees. Then she remembers that this is Marcus’s party. So why has she and Martin have been chosen to attend out of all the other staff? She pushes down the unsettling apprehension again starting to nag at her mind.Martin is talking to someone about the company’s European strategy, and Helen’s mind slowly disengages. She looks around idly, watching the groups of people laughing and talking.Why is that girl watching me?A stunning young woman has fixed Helen in her sights, her gaze one of unnerving intensity. Helen turns away and tries to kindle an interest in Martin’s conversation. But the intense loveliness of the girl’s eyes has burned itself into her mind, and she is compelled to seek the girl out again. She looks up, and over to where the girl stands watching. Helen is shocked to find those eyes have never left her. Her mind in turmoil, emotions in free-fall, Helen scans the girl’s body. Anything to break free of the erotic traction of those eyes. Oh God! That necklace around her sleek neck. Now she is walking towards Helen, her gaze never wavering. Tall and lithe, her movements are unhurried, each step declaring the self-satisfied ease of the congenitally beautiful. Her low cut dress displays a full cleavage that draws Helen’s eyes to the rise and fall of her self-satisfied breasts. Hair shoulder length and coiffured to perfection, ethereal and argent. Her cute snub-nose is a relic of childhood made cruel in maturity by sensual, over-ripe lips.Helen summons all her reserves of courage, wills herself not to flee. Closer now, the girl gives her a secret smile and something inside Helen burst open. Everything Çankaya escort bayan she had previously surmised about the sexual appeal of women is blown away, her certainties becoming dandelion fluff on a sudden summer breeze.Uncontrollably blushing, Helen wants to lower her eyes. But they are locked, no longer hers to direct. The girl is closer now, her eyes seeming to grow larger every second, becoming ever more insistent, pinning Helen to the floor like exotic Lepidoptera in a case. The room all around her —the laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses — fades away.Later, Helen was unable to recall what she said when the girl came to her, smiling that smile, her eyes promising things Helen always thought unobtainable. Had there been words at all?The girl’s kiss strikes like lightning. Lips red and sticky. Fragrant and sweet, grease adhering. The girl pulls back to smile at Helen, and then turns and walks away. Although the girl has not said a word, Helen knows she is to follow her. But her legs will not obey, and the girl turns around and looks back, sees Helen transfixed and gaping. She returns and takes Helen’s hand in hers, lifts the useless limb that dangles by her side, squeezes encouragement.They weave among the guests, palms clasped tight. Helen expects heads to turn, but none do. She is holding the hand of this most sublime female creature, and yet no one pays her the slightest attention. Surely everyone should be astonished, look their way as they pass. She studies faces. Don’t they see her? Why aren’t they whispering? Even Martin fails to acknowledge her; his wife, the lesbian.The pair trail through the room and out to a balcony, Helen copying the girl when she takes champagne from a passing waitress. Out in the fresh, evening air, the space of the terrace is all aglow with decorative strings of tiny, twinkling lights. They stand side by side, leaning on the railing while sipping their drinks, looking out over a jewelled London night.Helen looks at the cityscape stretching before her, and a hushed calm settles over her. The balcony lights and that from tall buildings all around add pure magic to the moment. The night-time traffic drone rises from the streets below, rumours from a world Helen once thought she knew. Now her mind is lifted away to float high above the world of her day to day concerns. She becomes dreamy, the sounds of the party seeming distant, hushed.Then the sweet, musical voice of the girl saying, “You are, Helen. Yes?”Hearing her name on the lips of this strangely beautiful person, Helen turns to face her. “Your necklace?” Helen asks as she reaches out and lightly touches the enormous Saphire that is the centre of the piece. “A gift?”.The girl does not answer. She is searching for words, choosing carefully, her deep-set green eyes alive with bright astonishment and unfathomable intelligence. Helen tries to put an age her, and now they are so near to each other sees a teenager, no older than nineteen.Her Russian accent is heavier than Erika’s, every word unpacked with care. “Each of us — we who are to be sisters — have such a necklace.” As she speaks, the girl watches Helen’s face intently.”Sisters?””You and I are to be the Little Two, Anastasia and Maria,” she reaches out to touch Helen’s necklace, “This once belonged to Anastasia.”They stand facing each other, each with an arm extended, their fingers gently resting on each other’s necklace.”Is this what tonight is all about. Do I look like a dead princess?” Escort Cebeci Helen asks, the dark fist of tragic history closing around her heart.”Dressed correct, your likeness will be good.”This talk makes no sense to Helen. She does not want to try and untangle the girl’s Meaning.There is a vortex of sexual attraction eddying back and forth between the two girls, underwriting every word they exchange. Helen struggles to think, is desperate to say sentences that have a semblance of sanity. “There were four Romanov girls, weren’t there?” she finally manages.”There are two others to play the Big Two. I have not met these girls. Perhaps they do their practice right now!””Practice. Princesses, necklaces and auditions. Would you mind explaining at least some of it to me.” Helen takes her hand from the girls necklace and awaits an answer.”Have you done the sleeping with the girl before?” the girl asks.”You mean slept with?””Yes, sorry. My English is poorest. You sleep with the girls?”The bluntness of the question leaves Helen momentarily speechless. All she can think of is to bat the question back. “Do you?””It is, how you say, my way. My orientation. But you have avoided my question.””You want to know if I Have ever slept with a girl? No, never! “”But you are so lovely. It is a shock to me that the English ladies do not move onto you.””Make a move on me,” Helen corrects, now smiling. The girl’s struggle with English is endearing. “I don’t think I give out that kind of vibe.””Your vibe is powerful for me,” the girl says, smiling for Helen before continuing. “I desire to be kissing you now, but Erika would not be happy. She must be seeing our first closeness.””What has Erika got to do with it?””We are to be pleasing her, you and me together. Soon it will be time.””You and me and Erika; is that what she has planned?””Yes, biggest plan. Soon is time to be with her. Come!” She reaches out and retakes Helen’s hand and begins to lead her away.”Wait,” Helen says, pulling the girl around to face her again. “I don’t even know your name.””Yalena. It is what I am named.””You are beautiful, Yalena.””I am thanking you so much, but time is running from us.” She turns away, her hand urging Helen to follow. “Come quickly now.”The two girls weave hand in hand between the chattering groups of people, lithe dancers on a crowded stage. As they go, Helen’s eyes search for Martin’s face among those of so many strangers.How can this be? It is an apartment; these long corridors make no sense. They pass many doors on either side before coming to a halt. Yalena reaches into a small purse, takes out a compact and checks her makeup in its mirror. When she is satisfied with her reflection, she turns to Helen.”We are to be with Erika. Your trial.” She sees the alarm in Helen’s eyes at the word ‘trial’. “Not my best speaking word.” Yalena thinks and then says, Your test. Like the actor for part.””You mean like an audition?””Yes. Audition. Like the actress.””Audition for what?””Erika will instruct us soon — the way we are to make the loving, how she enjoys so much.””I would prefer it were only you doing the instructing,” Helen says.Yalena smiles broadly as she says, “There will be another time for my instructing.” She reaches out and strokes Helen’s cheek. “But now your thoughts must be all of Erika.”It is making no sense, but before Helen can ask anything else, Yalena turns from her and raps on the door with an insistence that is full of the certainty that Helen no longer owns.From the other side of the door, Erika calls for them to enter. Yalena takes Helen’s hand before opening the door. She senses Helen’s reluctance to follow, turns and throws her a searching look, sees her wild apprehension, and so leans forward to kiss her gently, reassuringly on the lips. “It will be okay. I am here with you until it is done.”

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