Diamond Girl Read Online Free Page B

called the 'Kelleher diamond'. It must be a unique diamond, a blood diamond, literally: a thirty-two carat diamond with history, something cool like the Hope diamond, maybe a little royal blood on it, or a robbed Pharaoh’s tomb.
    Having and spending this kind of money is a full-time job, at least it was for my mother. Yeah, there were two little girls, but I don’t think she was able to feel the warmth of acquisition when she looked at us. Rather we were the price of admission and now she found out one of her golden tickets was a phony. Her feelings of growing security as Mrs. Kells V were thrown into disarray.
    In her own defense she came up with a plan. If 'out of sight out of mind' was the banner for every woman in that tough town, then it might work for children too.
    It was about a week after my diagnosis, and two days after my first shots. Like any little kid I was terrified of needles, and to be told, and to have been shown graphically, what my new disease meant in terms of them had sent me into a state of terror and hysteria. It was bedtime and my brand new nurse, Sylvia, was looking for me, needle in hand. Desperate to evade her, I scrambled down to the second floor, planning to hide under my parents' bed.
    Their room was off-limits to all staff, excepting my mother’s personal maid. Since they were never home at night and never got home before midnight, I figured I could wait her out. I was shocked when I got to the double doors of their suite and heard their voices inside. I hesitated, but when I crept to the bottom of the stairs, I could hear Sylvia wandering around softly calling for me. I ran back and huddled against their doors, too afraid of my mother to go in - I knew she would just screech for Sylvia - and too afraid of the needle to go back upstairs. That is how I overheard them. It was an accident; no eavesdropper would want this much information, no one would choose to hear something that over twenty years later I still can’t forget.
    My mother’s faux-genteel accent was slipping, her Kansas was showing. Whatever she was asking from Daddy that night was obviously taking a toll. I heard my name and the word 'Canada', and I listened more intently.
    My mother said, “Darling, come on, Kells, this is right for Carolyn. Venta is the most wonderful school.”
    My father’s angry voice slapped back at her. “Ellen, I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt. I will assume that you are unhinged with worry over Carey’s illness and I will try very hard to forget that you ever mentioned this in the first place. I will do this in the interests of my little girl if you never speak of it again.” 
    “But, Kells, don’t you see, it’s the only thing we can do for Carolyn. This … this disease, it will set her apart from the other children at Buckley, and with her hysterical fear of needles, I mean, really, you cannot imagine the scene this morning. At any rate, it will give her new people and events to focus on, and a new world to explore.” She paused for breath and finished on a triumphant note while I chewed on my knuckles to keep my sobs from escaping. “Venta is an international preparatory academy. Carolyn is being given this chance in spite of her illness. I am certain that she will see it as the treat I envision it being for her.”
    “It’s in Ottawa, for Christ’s sake, Ellen. It’s some nowhere and nobody school in Ottawa, in Canada, and though you may not be aware of this, Ellen, Kellehers do not go abroad for their educations, not that I would consider Canada abroad. My children are not going to be raised as Euro trash, my dear, glamorous as that might be to you. But no, this isn’t Le Rosay, is it, Ellen? It’s some Canadian preparatory academy established five years ago, doubtless the only place you could find that would be willing to take such a small child, and a sick one at that. Ahh, I’ve surprised you … yes indeed. I read the brochure, not because I had any intention