37. The Don commands

After a fitful night, I woke to another grey morning. I remembered that the children would be getting their DNA swabs taken some time during that day. The thought made me feel hopeless. Lucien had not said anything about it but then, apart from trying to haul me into bed and satisfy his libido and render me a helpless slave to his touch in the process, me, he had very little time for me. The children probably did not exist for him, I thought, a wave of depression engulfing me.

My twins were only too glad to have me with them as they played in the grass outside my room. The housekeeper shot me a strange look but said very little and I was thankful for that. She had come in to find me asleep on the couch before the TV and had woken me up briskly with a hot cup of coffee. Determined not to let Lucien's behaviour upset me, I carried out my yoga exercises and meditated a little as the twins scampered around, a lanky lad playing with them. He was the gardener’s son, Philippe, said Beatrice