Twisted Heart (6 page)

‘Neither.’

‘How about the hot springs – help you relax?’

Indoor activity was more what I had in mind, I told him with a sigh. ‘Hold me,’ I said. ‘Don’t speak. Just hold me.’

We went to my room. We stepped into the moment, his cool skin against me. I love that he’s so strong and lean. I love the prickle of his chin on my cheek, the pressure of his lips on mine, that he can kid around and be funny when we make love, not serious all the time.

It’s afterwards that he gets intense. ‘Come to Dallas,’ he begged, lying back with one arm behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

I turned on to my side, folded myself into him.

‘Come with me, Tania.’

‘I don’t know. There’s a film festival in Prague next month – small indie stuff, then another editing course in London.’

‘But I miss you. I miss all of this.’ He stroked my arm and shoulder, turning and tilting his head so that his eyes reminded me of a puppy dog, soft and pleading.

‘I miss it too. I can’t tell you how much. But it won’t be for ever.’ A few more months. He’d be busy with his own course. We could Skype every day. I was about to go down Mom’s absence makes the heart grow fonder route, until his mood suddenly changed and he cut off from me.

He sat up and put on his clothes. ‘Come on, let’s take the bikes down to Prayer River,’ he said.

That was Monday, when Mom was still sleeping. Dad came home and said everything was good. They were pleased with her progress.

Tuesday morning I visited. I sat by her bed and watched her wake up.

‘Oh boy!’ Mom sighed when she finally opened her eyes, like she’d slipped back a few decades to the language of her childhood and her own parents. ‘I sure am thirsty.’

She was propped up on pillows, connected to monitors and drips. They said I shouldn’t tire her and I left after an hour.

Tuesday evening Orlando and I took another cycle ride, this time to Turner Lake.

‘But not on New Dawn territory.’ I insisted on using the track on the opposite shore, keeping a distance from Saturday’s tragedy. I wanted to enjoy the lake, remember all my special times with Orlando. And actually I loved every minute – cycling hard, steering the bike around raised tree roots, seeing the golden aspen leaves flutter and fall.

‘Shall we swim?’ I asked when we reached one of my favourite spots. I longed to plunge in and let the water refresh me, to recreate our midnight swimmer moment in full daylight.

‘Too cold.’ Orlando was keeping his distance, still feeling rejected. He would probably still be this way when he took the plane back to Dallas. After that he would miss me and shower me with long-distance love.

‘I bought my plane ticket,’ he said as we continued on. ‘I’m out of here, tomorrow midday.’

I put on my brakes, stopped dead. I felt the blood drain from my cheeks. ‘You really have to leave?’

‘Really,’ he insisted. Stopping a few metres ahead of me, he turned to judge my reaction. ‘Thursday I meet with Dr Greenaway to talk through my assignment.’

He said it in a way I couldn’t or shouldn’t argue with, but I tried anyway.

‘Postpone the meeting. Tell them your girlfriend’s mom is sick, you need to be with her.’

‘Tania, don’t make me feel bad. Anyway, I’m packing up and moving to Ryan’s place, remember.’

‘I’m only saying … Is this because I decided I wouldn’t come to Dallas?’

‘You figure I’m that immature?’ he challenged. ‘I have to complete my module, end of. Like you said, we can Skype.’

Ouch. He was leaving for sure and I felt like I was falling, sinking, drowning again. To our side the water glittered, the far-off island shimmered. Above our head the aspens quivered.

A body sinks without a struggle. Bubbles rise towards the light, the body twists and turns in the currents. He, or is it she, stares blankly into the darkness. The corpse is down in the lost town, drifting through doorways, looking without seeing. Ghosts watch the spirit depart
.

I drove Orlando to the airport and we walked hand in hand to the departures gate. My hand in his, a perfect fit.

‘You’ll think about it?’ he asked after we’d kissed goodbye.

My lips tingled, my heart yearned. ‘About Dallas?’

He nodded. ‘I know you said no, but we could make it work, believe me. You could still travel to Europe whenever you need.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ I promised. I knew I totally loved him, but did he know it too? Would I have to go to Dallas to prove it? ‘I’m not making any decisions until Mom gets out of hospital.’

‘Yeah, cool.’ He kissed me again, this time wistfully. ‘We’re good, aren’t we? You’re still my midnight swimmer?’

I nodded. I watched him go, the back of him – tall, loose-limbed, perfect.

‘It’s not a funeral, it’s a memorial service,’ Grace explained as she drove me and Holly to the lake late that afternoon.

‘Obviously,’ Holly said. ‘The family already took Conner home to Oregon.’

‘So whose idea is the memorial?’ I asked. I’d agreed to go without really wanting to and partly to fill the hole of Orlando’s leaving. It was either that or staying home with Zenaida, who was getting fat on sunflower seeds.

Grace drove the familiar route through town towards the lake. ‘The New Dawn people think it’s appropriate, I guess.’

‘It’s the least they can do,’ Holly muttered from the back seat. ‘But if you ask me it’s some kind of PR exercise.’

‘How do you figure that?’ Grace didn’t get it.

‘The community is under pressure. One of their Explorers dies in weird circumstances.’

‘Will you stop this!’ I shook my head and stared ahead.

‘What?’

‘Making stuff up, developing theories.’

‘Tania’s in denial,’ Holly told Grace with a patient sigh. ‘So anyway, the New Dawn people set up the memorial service to make it look as though they care.’

‘How can you know that?’

‘That’s what these boot camp places have to do. I read about it. They cover up abuse with slick PR. It’s a known fact.’ Holly’s position didn’t soften. She was sticking with her hard-line view.

‘You’re sure you want to be there?’ I asked, turning to look at her. ‘What if you see the guy with the blond hair – number 102, Jarrold?’

‘Yeah, Holly, don’t make a scene,’ Grace warned. ‘We don’t want you sharing your homicide theory with people. This is not the right time or place.’

‘So did anyone start investigating?’ I’d been out of the loop since Sunday because of Mom’s surgery. ‘Is there going to be an inquiry?’

‘Who knows?’ Holly shrugged. ‘I already called Antony Amos’s office to remind them I was a witness.’

‘And?’

‘They said thanks but no thanks. The woman – the French one – cut me dead, if you really want to know.’

‘So what about the cops?’ Grace turned off the highway and followed the rough track to the New Dawn Community. We drove through junipers and redwoods which eventually opened out to give us a clear view of the lake.

‘I called them too and they said so far they’re not directly involved. They’re waiting for the autopsy report.’

‘So you think you can handle this?’ I checked. Knowing Holly and her reaction to hitting her head against a wall, I doubted it.

‘A kid is dead,’ Grace added quietly. ‘That’s all we need to focus on right now.’

‘Sure I can handle it,’ Holly sulked, opening the car door before Grace had even finished parking. She got out and slammed the door. ‘What do you think I am?’

I
t wasn’t what I was expecting, not in a million years.

In fact, I had zero expectations because most of my mind was still on Orlando walking through the departure gate and my heart was wrung out with regrets and longing.

But here we were, walking from the car park down to the lakeside to join a group that was about to celebrate a departure of the final kind.

It turned out there were around fifty people at Conner’s memorial. Twenty or so were from Bitterroot, responding to the message on the New Dawn website that everyone from the town was welcome. The rest were staff and juvies from the community. I picked out and recognized straight away the girl called Aurelie, who’d been by Antony Amos’s side. Today she was dressed in a floaty orange skirt and long-sleeved cream top, standing next to a guy who could only be her brother, maybe even her twin, who had the same shiny, dark hair and dark eyes and that quiet way of holding himself slightly apart from those around him, who were mainly Explorers by the look of them. I mean, they didn’t have the classy look. I know I shouldn’t say that, but I just did.

For instance, there were the two girl triathletes I’d seen last Saturday – the scowling one with thick black hair who again established personal space with a hostile stare. Today she was dressed in frayed jeans and a tight white T, with plenty of silver jewellery including a couple of face piercings. She stood reluctantly with the nervy, skinny one – pretty but awkward, whose denim jacket was buttoned to her chin and whose long hair blew across her face as she stood with her back to the wind from the lake.

The moment Aurelie saw me arrive with Grace and Holly, she came to greet us. ‘Thank you for coming,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’m Aurelie Laurent, Antony’s stepdaughter. Antony will be here any moment.’

Stepdaughter. I registered this and stored it. We all smiled and felt embarrassed, mumbled hi and followed her into the crowd.

Dainty and delicate are the words to describe our guide. And charming.
Charmante
. You felt that right away. Huge, wide eyes gave her an alert, intelligent look, her hair was cut so well you immediately wanted to ask who was her hairdresser at the same time knowing you couldn’t afford it. Groomed, delicate, dainty, charming. And French. Some girls have it all.

‘Come and meet my twin brother,’ she invited.

Twin – first impression confirmed. Another fact for the Aurelie file.

I didn’t know about Holly and Grace, but Aurelie Laurent made me feel like a dork. That’s the only way I can describe it. Compared with her, we were hicks. We should have been playing our banjos on the back porch, chewing tobacco, spitting and eating grits. I exaggerate to make my point.

‘This is Jean-Luc.’ Aurelie began the introductions.

‘Hi, I’m Grace.’

‘Tania.’

‘Holly.’

Here we were again – Jean-Luc was another drop-dead gorgeous guy, to which one-word responses were all we could manage. His almost black hair swept across his forehead and was long enough to curl on to the collar of his blue and white striped shirt. He wore the cuffs rolled back to reveal tanned wrists, the collar turned up and the two top buttons undone.

‘Thank you for coming,’ he said, mirroring his sister’s perfect manners. Add ‘sophisticated’ and ‘refined’ to charming, groomed and the rest. I tried not to stare open-mouthed at this second picture of perfection.

‘Tania was just in Paris.’ Grace told him the first thing that entered her head.

She blushed, stepped back and left me and Holly in the firing line.

‘Really?’ Jean-Luc glanced from me to Holly and back again, unsure which was which.

Pay attention,
monsieur
.

‘This is Tania,’ Holly said quickly as she gave me a small shove.

Aurelie’s brother kept his attention on Holly. ‘Number 85,’ he recalled, fixing her with an unwavering stare. It was enough to make the stoutest heart go flip-flop, pitter-patter. ‘I heard you tried to save Conner.’

‘I did,’ Holly mumbled, her tanned face flushing. Here was her moment. I saw it all – the kick to the head, the moment of homicide. But no – Jean-Luc’s powerful gaze seemed to stun her into silence.

‘You did a brave thing,’ he told her, his dark eyes seeming to dig deep into her consciousness.

Holly swallowed and took a step backwards. All her usual bravado seemed to have deserted her.

Jean-Luc stared at her for a while longer then finally turned his attention to me. ‘Tania, when did you leave Paris?’

‘Friday.’ I was so nervous I couldn’t be sure I had my tongue under control, so I kept it short.

‘Where in Paris did you stay?’

‘Rue du Temple.’

‘And why were you there?’

‘I went to study art. Well, film actually.’

‘You saw the Picasso museum?’

I nodded.

‘A friend of my father’s is curator there.’

Wow
. How do you top that?

‘Our father, Claude Laurent,’ Jean-Luc explained. ‘He is a banker there, in Paris.’

Again I was tongue-tied and Aurelie had to step in with a change of subject.

‘We wanted to hold the ceremony here, in the place where it happened. It makes us feel … connected.’

‘We’re so sad for you.’ Grace always speaks from the heart. She’s an open book – no games, no barriers. It makes her both vulnerable and strong. ‘It’s important – we have to show we care,’ she’d told Holly and me when she was persuading us to come here.

‘Thank you, we appreciate it. Especially your bravery, Holly.’ Aurelie smiled graciously then went to mingle with other guests. At last – a recognition. Her brother, Jean-Luc, stayed to chat with me about Paris, explaining that he liked to spend part of each year there: ‘Whenever I get the time. Antony’s foundation keeps me pretty busy actually.

‘Antony’, not ‘Papa’, I noticed.

‘My job is to be the bridge between our Explorers and their families. A lot of parents ask for daily progress reports, though we don’t allow direct contact during the time kids are here. The idea of New Dawn is to open up Explorers to a completely new beginning. “To turn hearts, to walk together in the sight of the Great Creator.”’

Jean-Luc delivered the quote straight from the New Dawn manifesto, it seemed. I wondered if there could be a touch of irony in his voice but I didn’t see any sign of it in the serene expression on his face. Anyway, I was happy just to enjoy the foreign inflexions, to admire the perfect grammar. Gorgeous
and
smart.
Incroyable
.

‘So,’ Holly blundered in. ‘Your mother divorced your father then married Antony Amos?’

Too personal. I thought about giving her a dig in the ribs to make her behave, but Jean-Luc didn’t seem to mind.