Bulletproof (Healer) (16 page)

             
"So are you," I giggle, feeling like a starstruck fan.

             
"I always am," Maurice says. Maurice guides me back to the house, still cradling my hand in his. I cannot picture this charming man lying on the metal bed Gabe showed me only a couple of hours ago. Thinking about Gabe makes me angry so I try to push him to the back of my mind; I can't help think he was trying to prove something by showing me the surveillance room today. Trying to make me feel bad towards Maurice. Because he knew that Maurice is a far better man than him. No, why would Gabe care what I thought about him or Maurice? He would have to have feelings to care about me, I shudder. I try to focus on the well groomed garden to keep my mind off of unsavoury topics. There are the most magnificent foreign flowers blooming. At the far side of Maurice's garden is a collection of hedges shaped like safari animals. Normally this would look tasteless but there is something serene about looking over to a herd of wild animals. Giraffes, elephants, lions. It's a reminder that there is more out there in the world than this strange vampire world when it could be so easy to get lost in the surreality.

             
"Your house is beautiful," I say, my fingers catching in the twigs and leaves as we walk through a labyrinth of trees. When I ran through here, I must have blacked out because I don't remember any of this. The crisp smell of Autumn must last all year round in here. The sweet honey scent of flowers and the raw, earthy odour that sticks to my hands as I run them across the tough bark of a tree. I have always liked being outside. I love running; the wind whipping past you and the thudding of your heartbeat and shoes hitting against the ground begin to become part of nature's soundtrack. Outside, you are irrelevant. I'm not Miracle Girl here. Sometimes it's nice to be reminded that you are a dot, you're insignificant in relation to the mammoth trees that have towered over society for hundreds of year and the sun which has shone down on us for millions of years. That's what this garden makes me think of. The bigger picture. I just wish my dad would have let me enjoy the bigger picture more. He was so afraid. He has lived his whole life worrying about me; I feel like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders now that I'm gone. Although he doesn't realise it just now, if I never came back it would be a good thing.

TWELVE

             
When we walk back into the house, it is disconcertingly quiet. The loud buzz of voices and music has been completely erased like the house has been vacuumed of all life. There is nobody around, no shuffling of feet or a polite smile from a member of Maurice's staff passing by. No Channing or Justin. No Angelica. No Rose. No Gabe. It's just me and Maurice. He takes me into the Grand Hall which takes on an entirely different mood now that the people have been evacuated. For me. I don't know which is a grander gesture: throwing a ridiculously extravagant ball for me or shutting it down because I felt sick. 

             
Remnants of food, half empty glasses of wine, wrinkled streamers are strewn across the floor. I hope all of the guests don't resent leaving so early; Maurice's house is quite a trek away from the city or any source of life for that matter. Anyone at the party, unless they are Maurice's permanent live-in staff, would have had to travel quite some distance for this party, only to be turned around before they got to meet the guest of honour. The guiltiness doesn't last long. "Just a second" Maurice lets go of my hand, it feels empty now like the grand hall, and disappears for a few second.

             
While he's gone, the lights dim. At first I think the power has gone out and start to panic but then Maurice returns a few moments later with a candle in one hand and a woollen picnic blanket. He lays the blanket down in the middle of the ballroom, underneath the chandelier. He lights the candle, "Come sit with me, Cassie."

             
I oblige, folding my legs into a basket shape, by his side. "I hope you will enjoy staying here, Cassie," Maurice says, his face is even more ethereally beautiful in the flickering candlelight. His skin is so pale, so flawless, the flame reflects on his cheekbones and it's like watching somebody set fire to the snow. Channing comes in the room with a tray. His eyes are darting around the room shiftily like he's nervous. I wonder if my running away has gotten him in trouble since he and Justin were supposed to be looking after me. If Channing is in the doghouse it doesn't show. Maurice gives him an easy smile and thanks him when he sits the tray with a teapot, two ornate china teacups and a plate of sugary biscuits with jam and cream swirls. Channing leaves quickly.

             
"You're wearing the necklace I bought you," he says and reaches out and touches the pendant dangling around my neck.

             
I clasp it in a tight fist, "Yes, it's beautiful."

             
I turn to the colourful cakes before me. I'm hungry but would have preferred something filling and savoury. I'm dreaming of the fish and chips from Tony's Cafe but these biscuits covered in pink butter icing will suffice; it certainly does not take any convincing for me to scoff them all down one after the other.

             
"Are you hungry?" Maurice asks while I dust fine sugar and crumbs away from my chin. I nod, licking my lips and feeling a bit embarrassed by greediness but my howling stomach is so angry that it takes over my polite mind. Channing returns.

             
"Cassie is hungry. Take her to the kitchen and tell Miriam to make her whatever she wants," Maurice commands Channing in a low, sumptuous voice that hits me like a stone in the water, sending ripples out across my body. Reverberating from my ears and down my spine. He turns and smiles at me, the ripples continue, a tiny tremor runs down my neck.  He is wonderfully handsome. This was the sort of vampire that used to occupy my dreams, not the frightening bloody fangs from Gabe's tattoo. Maurice, with his colourless eyes like glass washed up on a beach, is dangerous but in a nice way. Not in a way that makes your blood curdle, he's an enticing risk that I am more than willing to take. Spending time with a vampire is like bungee jumping or riding a motorcycle. Thrilling. When I look at his boyish face I feel the same way I do when I go running: free, liberated from the disease that stops me from living a full life, living like everyday is my last instead of feeling ensnared in the trap that my condition had been slowly building around me.  

             
Half of Maurice's kitchen is industrial; everything is metal but it inconspicuously flows into an everyday kitchen which is made a light oak and the corners of the countertops are smooth and round. A blonde lady, that reminds me of Shannon only 50 pounds heavier, is in the homely side of the kitchen washing dishes in an all white uniform. I assume this is Miriam; she must be Maurice's live-in chef. I bump into a line of ladles which are hanging on hooks on the wall next to the thousands of other items of kitchen equipment. I wish I had been allowed more time in the kitchen, wish I really loved cooking like dad because then I would be able to appreciate the luxury having all these varying pots and pans, spoons that scoop, spoons that stir, knives for chopping, knives for spreading. I imagine that for a passionate cook, this was heaven.

             
I flashback to Maurice's driveway and think about how the buffed metal of his cars, old and new, had looked like paradise to me. Here, in the outskirts of Toulouse, Maurice had created a slice of heaven. Gabe must be incredibly ungrateful and rude not to appreciate how wonderful it is to spend time here, even if it is just a few days or a whole lifetime.

             
The sound of me clattering into the ladles makes Miriam jump. She turns and it's like somebody has switched a light on, her face illuminates with a wide smile. "Cassie! Wow," she hugs me, a tight squeeze, sways side to side.

             
After hugging and laughing, and lots of me pretending that it's normal for a complete stranger to be so excited to see me. She asks me what I'd like to eat, reminding me that she will and can cook anything I want. Anything in the world. I could have caviar and truffles or chocolate pudding with fudge sauce but I can't keep my mind off the crispy potatoes served up at Tony's cafe, back home, and ask for fish and chips. Sure enough, there is fresh fish and a bag of potatoes, still covered in mud. I chat to Channing about Formula One while Miriam cooks in front of us. He is pleasantly surprised to find that I am a huge fan. We chat and I welcome the distinguished smell of fish and chips. I smack my lips together. It doesn't take long to make, maybe half an hour or so, and Miriam sits it on the breakfast bar.

             
I have never ate so quickly. The batter is so hot it burns my tongue but I don't mind. It is deliciously salty and the chips are fluffy. The food sits at the bottom of my stomach like it's at home there, putting it's feet up and exhaling with satisfaction. This is a completely different league from Tony's. "Thank you," I say, dipping my finger onto the plate to pick up the leftover crumbs and stick them on my tongue. "That was delicious."

             
"It was my pleasure, Cassie," Miriam smiles with such affection in her eyes like I am her child. "It's a shame you couldn't enjoy your party…"

             
Channing glares at Miriam like she has said the wrong thing. I just nod and apologise for being such a bad party guest and that I'm sure I'll get the chance to meet all of Maurice's friends again soon. I don't mean it though, I hope I don't have to be subjected to that anxiety again. Walking into a roomful of people with garish costumes on, all eyes staring at me, everybody picking me apart with my eyes. What's so special about her? They were thinking when they looked at me. Drowning in my blue dress, swimming completely out of my depth and soon the sharks were going to surround me as I struggled to stay afloat.

             
Maurice enters the room. Illuminating it in a different way from Miriam. Where she is cheerful, her eyes wide and innocent, Maurice is charismatic. His confidence is like a spotlight on him, commanding the attention of everybody in his presence. He looks at me and smiles. I melt. I tuck my hair, which is dishevelled from running through the garden, and feel very aware about the dirt on my gown and my messy face. Wish Rose was here to work her magic on me and make me look beautiful. "Did you enjoy your meal, Cassie?" he asks. His speech is flawless; his movement is fluid. He makes every movement, every twitch of his mouth or running a hand through his soft blond hair, look as important as the last. Like everything he does is significant. He could make washing the dishes look like an intricate dance.

             
I nod, zealously. Maurice dismisses Channing and tells Miriam she can return to her quarters after preparing for breakfast tomorrow morning. He takes my hand again, it feels cool like a piece of smooth marble in between my fingers, and escorts me back to the grand hall where our picnic lies in the middle of the room, dimly lit by candlelight. I feel light headed, swooning.

             
I have never been on a date before. Never been taken by the boys who asked me out back home and I wonder if they would treat me like this if we did. Would they take me out? A film or dinner? Would they pay for me or expect me to? Would I want them to? I never thought of myself as a damsel in distress. Never thought I'd want a boy to hold a door open for me or stroll down the beach, writing me love letters and sharing kisses in the ocean. I look up at Maurice's face, carved out of ice, and think about how I want to be
that
girl with him. I can't deny how good it is to be around him. The way he looks at me, the way he touches me, the way he moves around me like I am special. Like the world is revolving around me. I wouldn't quite trade my dreams of owning a race car for being a housewife but I could definitely get used to being treated like a princess.

             
It is nearing four o'clock in the morning when Maurice walks me back to the Andromeda suite. Outside the door, Maurice says, "I'm sorry I won't be able to spend tomorrow with you. Got to sleep," oh yes, on the metal operating table Gabe showed me. "But I will find you the minute I wake up."