The fairest of them all

Diana used Penny’s fiftieth as the stage on which to show off her new face. Gliding among the guests, she graciously accepted the compliments on how good she looked, laughing carelessly at the disbelief that she herself could possibly be approaching fifty.

Her pre-party nerves had evaporated. It seemed Marcus had been right; the surgery had been a success, a triumph even. His confidence in his own abilities was well-founded. As Diana regarded herself in Penny’s bathroom mirror, she marvelled at the absence of wrinkles round her eyes, the full lips, the youthful blush to her skin.

She would reward him well for this, and he would be so pathetically grateful for it. Her knowledge of how he worshipped her, the absolute power she held over him, filled her with an intoxicating joy. Men were so easy to manipulate. She smiled at her reflection and swept back into the party.

The smile died on her face when she saw Helen. What the hell was she doing here? Diana watched as the men steadily gathered round the younger woman in the centre of the room, drooling moths to her flame, their crude flirting rewarded with simpering smiles.

“God, she is stunning isn’t she?” Penny laughed. “Young, beautiful, and in such good shape too. I’d hate her if she wasn’t so lovely as well. Puts us well and truly in the shade, eh, Di?”

Diana shut Penny up with a glare. She scowled at Helen, then suddenly smiled and began delving into her handbag. She found what she was looking for and slipped into the kitchen.

---------------------------------------------------

“Helen, darling, so lovely to see you,” she cried as she sailed across the room. “You look fabulous, dear. Here, have a drink. It’s an appletini; simply to die for.”

“Oh, thank you, Diana,” Helen took the proffered glass. “You look wonderful in that dress, just wonderful.” She sipped delicately at the drink.

Diana waited, smiling and nodding as Helen talked, until the young woman staggered, putting her hand on Diana’s for support.

“Goodness, are you alright, dear?” Diana asked, gripping her arm.

Helen shook her head, trying to clear it. “I feel a bit drunk. But I’ve only had one, haven’t I?” She peered at the glass in her hand.

“Don’t you worry, dear. Come with me, I’ll take care of you.”

In the car, Diana looked across at Helen, limp in the passenger seat. She flicked out her phone. “Marcus. It’s me. Meet me at your office in twenty minutes.”

---------------------------------------------------

A thrill of anticipation coursed through her as she stood over the bed, looking down eagerly as Marcus slowly unwound the bandages. Peeling the last one away, he stepped back, looking anxiously at Diana for approval.

She leaned in, her fingers gently tracing the curves of Helen’s face, caressing the fresh scars, lingering over the ruined skin. Diana began to smile.

Helen floated slowly back into consciousness, the sound of laughter filling her ears, cruel and ugly.