The Awakening (19 page)

Inside a light was growing. Carmen could see the dim outlines of her future. Andrew wasn’t there: Victor was. But she was not Victor’s: he was hers. This evening was the beginning of his testing time, of his learning to trust her. He needed to look inside and know her heart was at last true.

No matter how she looked at it, Carmen’s life was not under control. For all she was tucked up in Andrew’s bed trying to get some sleep, Victor’s words and actions were getting to her. There was truth in him. Everything about him made her feel right, despite the fact that he sounded like a lunatic, morphed into wolves and bears, and spoke in a strange enigmatic way. He frightened her and compelled her at the same time. When she was with him she always wanted to be with him. Her body wanted his body, wanted more than just a platonic night together. She felt the connection between them growing. She knew beyond all doubt that had she gone to his home she would be his forever. And despite a growing sense that that Victor was her future she knew she had to tidy up Andrew in her own way.

She owed him something surely. She’d hardly missed him these last weeks. Sure, she’d been profoundly jealous at his imagined betrayal and enjoyed their phone sex. She always had fun with him and making love with him was blissful. But she didn’t feel the connection at the deeper level that was growing between her and Victor. If she really loved Andrew she wouldn’t want to jump Victor’s bones every time he came near her, would she? It was clear that Victor wasn’t going to leave her alone and besides, she didn’t want him to.

But Andrew offered love, commitment and certainty. He offered respectability and a large extended family that was warming to her. His mother was clearly happy to accept Carmen into the family and was eager for her to feel an important player in the family’s future. Her life would be comfortable, she’d never want for anything. But if Andrew followed the political path how much would she see him? Would they be true partners, or would she simply play a highly scripted role, written for her by the family? How long would he stay faithful? She could guess the answer to that. But she wanted children and that was clearly on offer with Andrew. She doubted a life with Victor would offer anything normal, let alone children. In fact life with Victor seemed to offer uncertainty and intrigue, nothing comforting or stable at all. And wasn’t she a creature in desperate need of comfort and stability?

God, what did she want? What should she do? Why should she believe Victor’s accusations about Andrew trying to hurt her? Was that just Victor trying anything he could to turn Carmen away from Andrew? At least she knew what her mother would say. Madeleine would look at Andrew and all those establishment connections, power and wealth and despite Victor’s rakish charm, her mother would reject his maverick nature and see trouble and instability. Probably, Carmen thought, an entirely appropriate response from a mother. But what would her dad say if he was still here?

She knew the answer to that too. And it wasn’t that different to Victor’s constant advice. She looked at her sleeping dogs, her protectors and friends and did not doubt their connection to Victor. She was sure, although she didn’t know how it was possible, that they were the same dogs given to her father all those years ago. She was equally convinced that Victor had been the mysterious friend. Lots of little pieces of one giant sized jigsaw puzzle were falling into place. It was a slowly evolving picture but she was sure that soon enough the complete picture would emerge and she would understand everything. If Victor was her father’s friend then he could only be on her side. If the dogs were gifts from him then they were special dogs, with special powers. Carmen laughed softly to herself. She wouldn’t be surprised if they could actually talk.

As her mind emptied and her thoughts became quiet and calm she knew that she had to divorce herself from emotion. But at the same time she had to trust her instincts more. It seemed a contradiction, but entirely right. If she closed her eyes she could see things so clearly. She must throw away all that she thought she knew. She must ignore the “facts” about her relationship with Andrew and his family. Somewhere there was truth. She must find it and now she understood Victor’s urgency. In the still and quiet of her heart she could feel the planet’s pain, its growing sickness and its need of her. She felt the Earth calling to her, the rivers and forests, the oceans and great creatures all calling out. She could hear her name in a thousand different voices singing to her from a thousand different places. She breathed deeply, slowed her heart, stilled the blood rushing in her veins, she felt as one with the great universe and saw Andrew’s heart. She knew if she could keep the vision, keep hold of the feelings in her heart she could turn away from him in enough time to be safe and belong to Victor in the way she knew she had to.

In the morning Carmen wandered through AA’s loft, examining his life. She had to be certain. In the night and when she was with Victor she knew the correct path to tread but daylight always changed things, as did being with Andrew. She knew she’d need every ounce of her newly growing powers to turn away from him. But she had to give him and his family a fair final chance. Otherwise nothing would work, for Victor, the planet or herself. Through all her awakening knowledge and power this was the one thing about which she was completely certain.

She’d never been here alone and it was quite unsettling to be in his space without him interpreting it all for her. She made coffee, found something for the dogs and watched the city wake from his balcony. The problem with Andrew’s place was that without him in it, it could have belonged to anyone. It was beautifully appointed – how many times had Madeleine commented on that? But there was a sterility here. Lots of chrome and cream. Something to be featured in Vogue Living, but did real people live in those homes? She suddenly had a flash about her possible home with Andrew. Someone fabulous would design the interior, select fabulous objets, she’d have a house keeper and a nanny too, no doubt and then she’d be on Martha or Oprah again in her divine home, with her divine children supporting her wonderful husband. She shivered. No, that wouldn’t work.

She looked at the books on his shelf. Had he read them?
American Psycho, Catcher in the Rye, The Great Gatsby
, the complete works of Steinbeck and Hemingway. No women writers there. Had he read the books or were they part of a “design” statement? There were books on politics, history: some clearly old and some from his university days. All the books he’d had a hand in publishing were there too, each signed by the writer. She guessed they’d be a valuable little collection. There were photos of Andrew with his family and with a range of famous people. Sort of like a movie star gallery. There was even one with Victor, both looking brooding and handsome. It was taken some years ago before Andrew had designs on the company but even then you could see a wariness in Victor’s eyes. Andrew looked cocky and over-confident, a look he had almost abandoned.

Carmen picked up the photo of Andrew with Will taken on Andrew’s graduation. It was the standard proud father and son-with-a-huge-future picture. She could see the likeness between the two. Clearly Will had been a physical and intimidating man in his prime. His dark eyes were far more malevolent than Andrew’s, and than they were these days. The first thing she’d noticed about Will when they’d met was the flinty coldness in his eyes, despite his smiling mouth and welcoming words. She’d believed he’d liked her from the start, as opposed to Elizabeth who’d made Carmen feel inferior and unworthy of Andrew from the moment they’d first said hello. But as she looked at this photo of Will she had an overwhelming feeling of mistrust, indeed loathing.

An image of violence, ice and blood flashed through her consciousness. There was screaming, protesting, a low guttural moaning, not human at all. She could see Will in furs with dogs, ferocious hunting dogs, trained to kill, happy to kill. She watched Will on the ice, stalking prey – large Arctic animals. At home, in his study, where she’d never been, she could see the spoils of his adventures, there was a moose head on his wall above the mantle piece, a polar bear skin on the floor and a bizarre collection of eye balls in antique specimen jars. Carmen realised with horror that there were several of these hideous displays and they represented eyes from the creatures killed by Will. Seals, beluga whales, foxes, wolves. She shuddered to think of how many dead animals were in that room. She realised the cushions were covered in pelts from harp seals, wolves and baby polar bears. She felt a stab of pain: so much death for no reason – just sport. Yes, there was a photo of Will, his gun and a dead alpha male polar bear. She felt the pain within her intensify. From what Victor had said this bear was likely to be her kin, and had died needlessly. She could see his smug arrogance, pride and superiority in his face and stance. Here he was the epitome of male achievement with his dead prey: one of the proudest largest beasts on the planet. It must have been taken twenty-five to thirty years ago, but the mark of the hunter, of male human supremacy was writ large in every detail of the man. No wonder Andrew was an arrogance smug bastard. He had no choice with a father like that.

Carmen put the photo down and felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Will was not a man to trust. He may be old now, his physical powers diminished but he had done some terrible things. Not just the wanton destruction of beautiful creatures, but, and she had a very strong sense of this, much worse. She felt that he had been involved in something quite catastrophic and she sensed there was some connection to her. She looked at the graduation photo again. Will was a man with secrets. Darkness in his life, but purpose and determination to follow a certain path. For a moment she saw the evil in his heart and then it was gone. He was just an old man now. Ageing, his powers faltering, never quite achieving to the level he had wanted: a powerful senator but never the president. But his son was in his prime, moving up to take the place as the supreme male in the family, and Carmen assumed, the country. For Will had stumbled at that hurdle. She picked up the family photo and saw a scandal. Something too damaging for a presidential candidate to survive. No wonder so much rested on Andrew. He was their hope, their anointed prince.

She felt the weight of the Adams’ family expectations weighing on her spirit. It was like the wolves were gathering, circling around her, waiting for a sigh of weakness to pounce. If only the family were wolves, then she could control them. Did Andrew choose her freely or has she been deliberately targeted by his family? She wasn’t his type. She was altogether different to any woman he’d previously dated. Did he really love her as he often proclaimed, or was he happy to play the game for his own ends? What did she really know of love anyway? Her mother was right: Carmen was famously bad at choosing men. Howe could she tell a good man from bad? She was driven by desire, by sex. She thought she loved Andrew, but did she? Did saying it make it true? She sat on Andrew’s sofa. There was no smell of him here, no trace of this man. She’d been with him less than a year. They’d been engaged for two months and were talking about marriage before spring was over. Why the rush? Why was everyone around her in such a rush about everything? She felt Victor’s presence. What wasn’t he telling her? Could it really be true that Andrew was her enemy? Turning her gaze back to the photo of Will she knew that he was her enemy but did that mean his son was as well?

She shuddered. The sun was pouring in the windows, it was going to be a lovely spring day but she felt cold. She felt the ice creeping in her veins, closing in on her heart. Andrew as her enemy? But he loved her, was desperate to be married. They were going to the Hamptons this weekend to be with his family and talk about arrangements, set the actual date. How could she? She’d seen AA in her dreams, betraying her with another woman and plotting against her. She knew it was true. She knew Victor was right. Wasn’t going to the Hamptons simply walking into a trap? But then – she was going to be as rational as she could – they’d been apart for many weeks now and being with Victor was always confusing. Since that first moment in his office she had hungered for him. But that wasn’t love. She knew without doubt that a large part of what she felt for Victor was lust. Perhaps she should just sleep with him and get all those animal urges out of her system and then she could accept that what she felt for Andrew was love? No, she shook her head, she had to accept the visions, the dreams, the sense of evil she felt about Will. She could not ignore the evidence mounting against the Adams men.

Andrew’s phone sprang to life, shattering Carmen’s reverie. She knew it was him.

“Oh, Carmen, Carmen, are you all right?” Andrew was breathless with concern. “I’ve just got a message from Josh. You should have called me.”

“It’s all right, Andrew. I’m safe. Everything is okay. I’m here, the dogs are here and we got out okay.” She marvelled at how soft and calm her voice sounded.

“But what happened? How did it happen?”

“I’m not sure yet. Your buddy Josh says they’ll be back today to check it all out. But it’s okay. You were right. It’s much safer here.”

“I’m so glad, Hon. I couldn’t bear for anything to happen to you.”

“It hasn’t. But the apartment’s a write off. Nothing left,” she laughed. “There’s nothing left.”

“Your medals? Didn’t you get a chance to save anything?”

She shook her head. “I have a photo album. That’s enough.”

“You are such a tough cookie,” he sighed.

“Only so tough. I miss you. I can only just hang on until Wednesday.”

“I’m coming as soon as I can get a flight. There’s nothing else to be done here and I need to be there. I need to be with you.”

“Oh, Andrew,” Carmen said in her newly insincere soft voice.

“I love you so much, Carmen.”

Carmen heard the sincerity and truth in his voice: he couldn’t fake that, surely? “I can’t wait to see you again, Andrew. I just want you to hold me.”