Dark Angel 03: Broken Dream (9 page)

BOOK: Dark Angel 03: Broken Dream
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I nodded. ‘But I don’t want to talk about it here. Later.’

Orlando picked up our role switch and gave a wry grin. ‘OK. So was Macy with you when it happened?’

‘No, but I’m glad she showed up when she did. She stepped out of the elevator and scared the crap out of him.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Macy’s cool.’ I glanced her way and saw that she was fully into retelling the story of our underground adventure. ‘I’m thinking maybe I’ll invite her to Bitterroot to spend Christmas.’

Orlando raised his eyebrows.

‘She has nowhere else to go,’ I explained.

‘… and the knife was this big!’ Macy was exclaiming. ‘The kind a deer hunter would carry to butcher his kill. He was one scary guy!’

Things moved on pretty quickly from there. It had started snowing so the kids – Adam, Phoebe and little Charlie – clamoured to build a snowman, which meant Charlie and Gwen had to help them. Gwen dragged Orlando in, and soon grown-ups and kids had their full attention on building the biggest snowman in New York.

‘When he’s finished, I’ll go to the wardrobe section and find a hat and scarf for him,’ Gwen promised.

‘A pink hat!’ Phoebe clamoured. ‘Our snowman is a girl.’

‘That would make her a snowlady,’ Adam, the child-adult pointed out.

‘Mom, we’re making a snowlady!’ Phoebe called to Natalia, who had emerged from the trailer to see what was going on.

‘More snow,’ she sighed, stretching out her palm to catch flakes. ‘I just know they’re going to keep the airports closed.’ Seeing me standing with Macy, she joined us. ‘We’re scheduled to fly out of LaGuardia Monday.’

The snow fell and I introduced Macy to Natalia Linton, who was dressed today the way a screen goddess should dress, in a full-length cream wool coat with a white fur collar and big Russian hat to match. Beneath the hat her porcelain face was flawlessly made up.

For once Macy was so overawed that she was tongue-tied. She left the talking to me. ‘Thanks for getting Orlando some work on set,’ I told Natalia. ‘You’ve no idea how much this means.’

‘Orlando is a sweetheart,’ she replied. ‘I wanted to give him the chance to let his talent shine through.’

Glancing across at the busy snowlady builders, I saw Gwen take time out to scoop up a handful of snow, pack it into a ball and throw it at Orlando. She made a direct hit and pretty soon he’d launched his own missile back at Gwen. The snowball knocked off her suede hat, which Charlie picked up and threatened to put on his own head. Phoebe and little Charlie giggled while Adam stayed out of the fun and games, doggedly packing more snow on to the snowlady’s body.

‘Let’s help Adam,’ Natalia suggested to Macy and me.

But we didn’t have the chance before the trailer door opened again and Jack Kane came out.

OK, Macy, you’re in for a shock, I thought grimly. Instead of glamour, think grunge. For charm, try sleaze.

‘Frickin’ snow!’ Jack grumbled, pulling his jacket across his chest as he looked up at the grey sky and the whirling flakes. ‘This weather is going to give Larry a coronary.’ He almost slipped on the icy step then regained his balance.

‘Larry King – he’s directing this movie,’ Natalia explained. ‘They didn’t forecast more snow; it’ll throw the schedule.’

After his small skid on the step, Jack didn’t stagger or blunder into anything, I noticed. He was clean-shaven and alert, so maybe he was sober. Major transformation.

Beside me Macy held her breath big time.

Natalia called him across. ‘Jack, you remember Tania? She was here yesterday. And this is her friend Macy.’

‘Hey, Tania, sure I remember you.’ Jack gifted me his dimpled, movie-star smile. ‘And that’s your boyfriend rolling in the snow with my kids, right?’

Phoebe, Charlie and Gwen had grabbed Orlando by the legs and dragged him to the ground. Now the kids were rodeo-riding on his back.

Jack laughed good-naturedly. ‘So, Macy, are you having a good day?’

‘Totally!’ she said breathily. ‘I love every movie you’ve been in. I’m a total fan.’

‘Don’t let my wife hear you say that,’ he warned with that special smile that oozed confidence. ‘She tells me my head is way too big already.’

‘I’m right, it is,’ Natalia teased, with none of the tension in her voice that I’d picked up yesterday. ‘Your ego is out of control.’

‘So are we going to work today?’ Jack called to his body double. ‘Charlie, go ask Larry if he needs me.’

‘Dude, you only just arrived,’ Charlie pointed out. But what Jack wanted, Charlie did, so he took Adam along with him to find Larry King.

Meanwhile, Phoebe came running up to her daddy. ‘Help us make our snowlady!’ she begged and tugged at his hand. ‘Please, Daddy, please!’

Jack pretended to resist, pulling back then suddenly letting go. She tumbled backwards into the snow, but before the laughter turned to tears, he quickly scooped her up and swung her on to his shoulders then cantered in a circle around the unfinished snow person. ‘I’m Rudolph!’ he cried. ‘Charlie, look at Phoebe – she’s driving Santa’s sleigh!’

‘Say “Giddy-up, Rudolph!”’ Natalia called from the sidelines. She gave a contented sigh then chatted comfortably with Macy.

For a while it seemed everyone was happy except me, and maybe Adam. I spotted him by the side of the frozen lake, making his way back to the trailer without Charlie. From a distance – heavy snow falling, a small, serious boy paying no attention to his surroundings – he looked like he’d never entered into a snowball fight or ridden on his dad’s shoulders in his life.

Feeling a sharp pang of sympathy, I went to meet him. ‘Hey, Adam. What did Mr King say?’

Adam stopped and looked up at me with the enormous hazel eyes he’d inherited from his dad. His black hair was long and curly under a knitted hat with ear flaps and a zigzag pattern, his skinny little body all wrapped up in matching scarf, bright-blue ski jacket and gloves. ‘He says we’re through.’

‘So no more filming today?’

He shook his head. ‘Charlie said for me to tell Daddy.’

‘Cool.’ Offering my hand, I walked with him and tried to get him to talk. ‘Do you like the snow, Adam?’

‘Yes.’

‘Me too. You can hear it crunch when you walk. What’s the best thing about the snow for you?’

‘I like that it makes the world white.’

‘Yeah, that’s beautiful.’ Walking with Adam, feeling his little gloved hand in mine felt good. We took our time, stopped at the edge of the lake. ‘See how the water freezes over. Isn’t that pretty?’

I step out of the moment but this time not in a bad way. There’s no painful split inside my brain, no dizziness – only a sensation that I’m rising with Adam over the frozen lake, still holding hands and looking down at the boathouse, surrounded by gently falling flakes of snow
.


Be happy,’ a child’s voice whispers. ‘Keep a hold of my hand
.’

I rise into the air beside my child companion, whose figure is surrounded by a soft glow. My body tingles then melts. I leave it behind and become pure spirit
.


Think of me when your dark angel attacks,’ the child tells me. ‘When evil comes, I will be here. Where there is darkness and chaos, look for the light
.’

6

I
 lay in bed that night looking back to the starry night painting in MoMA, when Orlando and I had our dream moment.

I should have known at the time – nothing ever stays that good.

From which you can tell we’d had another fight.

‘Let’s take the subway,’ he’d said. ‘It’s the best way to get round the city in the snow. Come on, I’m with you. It’ll be cool.’

‘You know I can’t do that.’

Him: (sulking, with the trace of a sneer) Can’t do, won’t do? So we pay for a cab.

Me: (apprehensive, jittery) No, let’s walk.

Jack and his family had flown off in their helicopter. Charlie and Gwen had taken Macy to a diner off Broadway and we were heading for Hubert Street.

‘This is crazy,’ Orlando had grumbled. He’d walked a little way ahead of me, ignoring the bright Christmas glow pouring out of shop doorways and fake stars twinkling in windows.

‘What’s wrong?’ I’d asked when we finally made it to our hotel.

‘Nothing.’

Me: So why are you acting this way? Would you rather be with Gwen? (Major mistake – I knew that as soon as I opened my mouth.)

Him: Tania, you have to stop doing that!

Me: Doing what?

Him: Getting your claws into every girl I spend time with. You do it every time.

Me: I do not! I meant Gwen and Charlie, not just Gwen.

Our voices were raised as we walked down the hallway towards the elevator. We didn’t stop yelling all the way up to our room.

Orlando slammed the door behind us. ‘I’m working with Gwen, OK! Work, as in getting to know the right people, learning the right moves, serving an internship, building a career.’

‘Rolling in the snow is work?’

‘Do I do this to you?’ he yelled. ‘Do I turn round and say don’t talk to Charlie?’

‘That’s different.’

‘How is it different, Tania? The way I see it, I have a hundred more reasons to be jealous of Charlie than you do of Gwen.’ Orlando clips his words, gets the grammar right when he’s angry.

‘Charlie saved me from the stalker,’ I pointed out. ‘You didn’t.’

‘So I have to be there to protect you twenty-four-seven? I never get to have a life of my own?’

We stood face to face in our small room, knowing we were heading for a relationship car crash yet neither of us seeming to know where the brakes were. ‘You do have a life of your own,’ I cried. ‘You’re in Dallas, aren’t you?’

‘Well, thanks for letting me go to college,’ he sneered. ‘If you had it your way I’d be in Europe, dragging around in your footsteps.’

‘No, that’s not fair. It was me who wanted to go to Europe and do my own thing. You’re the one who put pressure on me to give it all up and come to Dallas with you.’

Orlando stared angrily for a long time. In my head I heard the screech of tyres, the crash of metal, the splinter of glass. I felt a sob rise into my throat.

Stepping back from the wreckage, he let out a long sigh. ‘Why does it have to be so complicated with you, Tania? How come we’re always dealing with angels and spirits and dead people?’

He left me tangled in twisted emotions, cut up by fear.

‘Why can’t we be ordinary?’ he whispered.

Sunday was the last day of my course. It was nine thirty when Orlando (non-communicative, no touching or kissing) left me on Lincoln Plaza and went off for another morning as an intern on the
Siege 2
set. I’d already had a text from Charlie inviting Macy and me to join them in the afternoon.

Orlando still hadn’t forgiven me and I still hadn’t said sorry. Sorry for being insecure over every gorgeous girl who looks at you in a certain way, sorry we aren’t ordinary.

When he and I fight it’s like self-harm. I lacerate my own heart.

‘See you,’ he mumbled as he strode away. He has a way of walking – there’s a small bounce in his step, a forward hunch that’s so familiar to me. But today he looked like a stranger disappearing down the wide steps heaped with snow, across the traffic-jammed street, swallowed by the towering skyscrapers, lost in clouds of steam rising through ventilation shafts.

The second she saw me, in the entrance to the film school, Macy understood something was wrong.

‘Did you see your stalker again?’ she asked anxiously.

‘No, I guess he lost interest. He found himself another victim.’

‘So what happened?’ Together we went up in the elevator and headed along the corridor to our classroom.

‘I had a fight with my boyfriend is all.’

‘Oh my God, that’s why you look like death! You really do, Tania.’

‘Thanks.’ I knew I did – I’d looked in the mirror in the elevator and seen my pale face with dark shadows under swollen, red-rimmed eyes.

‘So, forget this morning’s classes. Go find him.’

‘And say sorry?’ I muttered.

Macy cornered me by the drinks machine in the lobby. ‘If that’s what it takes. Sorry’s a small word.’

‘I know, but I can’t just walk out of here and follow him on to the movie set,’ I sighed. ‘We don’t have passes until this afternoon.’

‘OK, block out the problem until you see him again – put it to the back of your mind. Take deep breaths.’

Trying but failing to follow her advice, I went into the classroom and spent the entire morning rerunning the fight with Orlando, thinking of all the things I should and shouldn’t have said, remembering the exhausted look on his face when he’d asked me why we had to be so complicated. Then I punished myself by picturing how happy he’d looked the day before, rolling in the snow with Gwen and the kids.

Whatever Adrian Ross told us about recent developments in indie cinema in post-Communist countries of Eastern Europe went totally over my head.

Our tutor ended the morning and wrapped up the course with a list of useful websites. They hardly registered with me until Macy dug me in the ribs. ‘OK, torture’s over – time to get out there and grovel.’

‘This wasn’t totally my fault.’ I reacted with my first hint of defiance. ‘Right after you went off with Gwen and Charlie, Orlando did his speciality detachment thing, which is what led to the fight in the first place.’

Macy nodded. ‘I hate it when guys do that.’

‘Like they don’t even know you exist.’

‘And they won’t communicate. You try every which way but you can’t get through.’

We were so deep in conversation that I hardly noticed the route we took across the Plaza and up Broadway towards the nearest entrance to Central Park. ‘Give it to me straight, Macy – you saw how Orlando was with Gwen yesterday. What did you think?’

‘Do you mean, was he coming on to her?’

‘Or the other way around?’

Macy wrinkled her nose as she thought it through. ‘Gwen’s a couple of years older than Orlando,’ she pointed out. ‘And every day she meets seriously hunky guys through the work she does. I’m not saying Orlando’s not a hunk – don’t get me wrong.’

‘So you think I imagined it?’

‘Gwen definitely didn’t mention him over supper.’

‘I imagined it,’ I repeated, this time with a thudding, sinking, sickening sensation that I’d made a total fool of myself.

BOOK: Dark Angel 03: Broken Dream
6.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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