Chasing Clouds

by Annabelle Knight

  A burley- looking man in a tux admitted them into the building; he reminded Elodie of a James Bond villain. Once inside, the opulence continued, as a white- gloved hand offered Elodie a glass of Champagne, which she gratefully accepted.

  “Where to start?” she asked.

  The hotel seemed to be reserved exclusively for the gala. There were formally- dressed waiting staff floating from guest to guest, all with trays laden with either Champagne or canapés. Elodie’s stomach growled and she realised that she hadn’t eaten anything all day. She reached out for the canapés and took two, popping one then the other straight into her mouth. They were delicious, little drops of heaven and Elodie just had to have one more. The waiter offered her a wan smile and extended the tray once more. Elodie’s hand hovered over it as she decided which one would be next. She felt the sharp point of Carla’s index finger jab her in the ribs. Elodie turned round to defend herself, knowing full well that Carla would be telling her off for being uncouth at the gala.

  “Alright, alright, that’s the last one I swear…” she began before trailing off.

  Over on the other side of the room, chatting animatedly with two very dapper- looking gentlemen, was Chase. Elodie felt her heart stall and lurch within her chest: Chase wasn’t alone. A tall, leggy woman in a full- length, backless red gown stood opposite him. She flicked her long blonde hair over her bare shoulder, placed an elegant hand on his arm and leaned into him, in an attempt to join in with the conversation, Elodie thought.

  “You OK?” Carla asked. “Look, just don’t worry about him. You were bound to see him at some point and it’s better now, when you’re looking like this, than just bumping into him after work or something. Who’s that he’s with?” Carla strained to try and catch a glimpse of the woman’s face. Elodie didn’t need to see to know exactly who that was: the words ‘he calls and I go running’ echoed through her mind.

  “It’s Jess, from my course. The one from the bar, remember, she turned up to the surprise party.”

  “Because I invited her…” Carla said, realising that she had inadvertently introduced them, “I’m sorry, El. But look at it this way: now he’s messing her around instead of you. I mean, fuck that guy. He’s clearly a massive dick. Come on, let’s get another drink and find something more interesting to do. El, come on, please don’t let him spoil this,” Carla begged as she practically dragged Elodie away.

  Elodie stole one last look as she walked away. Jessica still had her back to them but Chase had glanced over and now fixed Elodie with a very definite stare accompanied by one raised eyebrow. Elodie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention and felt an overwhelming urge to scream. She wanted to shout at Jessica for being so stupid, to tell her to have a bit of self- respect and that she was worth ten of him. But more than anything she wanted every single individual at the event to know what kind of person Chase was, how cruel and manipulative he was. But that would mean admitting to their relationship, facing a firing and risking the whole world seeing a photo she’d rather didn’t exist. She seethed at the unfairness of it all: what would happen to him, a slap on the wrist perhaps?

  ‘No, more like a pat on the back,’ she thought indignantly.

  “You’re right, I know you’re right. Still, it’s not nice to see…” she started, but Carla held her hand up to silence her.

  “No, it’s not nice, but it’s also not your problem and just look at what you’re missing out on, or should I say who you’re missing out on. There are loads of eligible bachelors here, probably twice as rich and ten times as nice.”

  Elodie nodded in agreement but couldn’t help herself from adding:

  “I don’t care about the rich part, I really don’t. Money means nothing if it’s all you’ve got,” and for a brief moment Elodie felt as though the lustrous shine of the gala was dulled.

  “Yeh, but it helps,” Carla added cheekily. “Check out that guy. Obviously hot: just look how many women are fawning after him and he’s got to be loaded, everyone here is.”

  “We’re not,” Elodie interjected.

  “We’re the exception, he’s the rule,” Carla said knowingly.

  Elodie glanced at the guy. He had his back to them, but even facing away Elodie couldn’t help but admire his form. He was tall and broad and wore a suit incredibly well. A bevy of women seemed to have encircled him; Elodie saw him take a step backwards and for an instant felt sorry for him. He seemed uncomfortable, he kept running his hands down the back of his trousers and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She thought about going to save him, swooping in and pretending he was needed elsewhere or that he and she were old friends and needed a catch up at once. But that was the kind of thing that worked in films, the kind of thing that on the big screen would result in a torrid love affair and probably marriage. In real life it would end in an awkward silence and many judgemental stares, Elodie scarpering with her tail between her legs and the sound of mocking laughter following her as she went. Her reverie was broken by one of the staff: a small man, dressed head to toe in immaculate liveries, extended an antique silver tray laden with Champagne saucers. Elodie took one and thanked him. Carla took one, paused then grabbed another.

  “For our friend,” she lied as the waiter looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  After a couple of glasses of Champagne and plenty of speculation about what the rest of the evening would hold, Elodie and Carla decided to have a good look around the venue. The hotel was truly stunning, with exceptionally high ceilings, wooden panelled walls, crystal chandeliers and enormous arrangements of flowers in ornate vases everywhere the eye could see. A beautifully framed sign listed the running order of the evening. Carla pointed to the line that read that at nine pm the gallery would open for perusal and an hour later the auction would begin for the pieces within.

  “Last year a painting done by Dwayne Glover sold for almost half a million pounds,” Carla informed Elodie sagely.

  “Who on earth is Dwayne Glover?” Elodie asked dumbly.

  “Only the greatest rapper alive, apparently. Not the greatest artist, though. I saw a picture of his painting in a magazine, looked like Betty had done it after a few too many gins,” Carla said.

  Elodie snorted and her hand flew to her mouth in embarrassment, her eyes darting around to make sure no one had heard.

  “Very elegant,” said a voice from behind. She wheeled around embarrassedly and was relieved and very pleased to see that it was Gareth.

  “Well, don’t you look dapper?” Elodie said, admiring Gareth’s plush velvet tuxedo jacket. “You look like a movie star.”

  “Darling, tonight I am a movie star,” Gareth quipped before doing something wholly unexpected: he leant over and planted a very sincere and very soft kiss on Elodie’s cheek. “Thank you so much for this, darling, you’ve no idea how much this means to me.”

  Elodie gave Gareth a warm smile without knowing what to say. As it turned out she didn’t need to say anything: Gareth was able to do the talking for both of them. He went on to give them a blow- by- blow account of his evening so far, including the ‘little bit of stuff’ he’d met in the ballroom.

  “We were both admiring this gorgeous sculpture at first, but then we started admiring each other. His name’s Glenn and he’s getting me a drink as we speak,” he motioned to the heavy- set and ornately gilded bar in the far corner. “Oooh, look who he’s with. I know it’s not professional to say, but our Captain certainly does a well- tailored suit justice, doesn’t he?”

  Elodie knew of course who he was talking about but couldn’t stop herself from turning to see all the same. Chase was stood, feet from the bar, listening to a fellow guest with apparent interest. His gaze flicked from his companion to Gareth, whom he nodded to. Elodie sensed, rather than saw, Chase begin to move; he must be coming over to speak with Gareth and hadn’t realised from across the room who else he was with.
<
br />   “Elodie, I think I just felt my zip break, I need you to check it for me,” Carla said without hesitation, clearly sensing Elodie’s panic and not wanting her to suffer for it. They said a quick farewell to a bemused Gareth before Carla grabbed Elodie’s arm and hauled her in the direction of the restroom. They slid through a heavy oak door and slipped out of sight. The door closed behind them with a satisfyingly safe thud.

  “Thanks for that. I just went into meltdown mode and froze,” Elodie sighed, leaning against the wall, her hands on her hips and head tilted back in annoyance. “Why do I turn into a wreck around him?”

  “Because you liked him and he treated you like shit and we’ve got an inbuilt programme that makes us want to win men like that back, just so we can have the pleasure of dumping them. It’s like getting the last laugh or something. But, that’s what I’m here for. I wasn’t about to stand there and let him have the satisfaction of making you feel awkward. Screw him, he’s a knob,” Carla said as they stepped inside.

  “My God, these toilets are bigger than our entire flat!” Elodie gasped once they had walked through the entrance corridor and into the main part of the toilets.

  “And probably cost twice as much too. I mean, look at these,” Carla added, pointing at two enormous gold gilded mirrors.

  The toilets were, in keeping with the rest of the building, spectacular. They boasted a spacious circular waiting area, complete with velvet chaises longues, glittering chandeliers and a plush cream carpet that felt heavenly underfoot.

  “I can’t believe he brought her here!” Elodie groaned once they had settled themselves in a quiet corner.

  “Well if it’s any consolation, you look banging and she looks like he just hauled her off a street corner.”

  Elodie laughed, appreciating Carla’s cattiness but knowing that it wasn’t true all the same. Elodie opened her mouth to add something, but found that she had nothing else to say. It was what it was, and no amount of slating Jess was going to change that. Two flamboyantly dressed women entered the bathroom and without hesitation made their way straight over to the mirror nearest Carla and Elodie.

  “Do rich people have no sense of personal space?” Carla whispered only half- jokingly. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We can’t hide all evening. Let’s just try to avoid him and try to have a good night.”

  Elodie nodded her agreement and made to leave; she pushed the heavy wooden door of the restroom open and stopped in her tracks. Jessica was stood, mere inches from her with a look of absolute disgust on her face.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding, are you actually following him?” she said. “He said you were obsessed. You can’t just leave him alone, can you? He’s made his choice and it’s me. It’s like feeding a stray dog or something, he just can’t be nice to you without you hanging around like a bad smell.”

  Elodie opened her mouth to reply and closed it again feeling completely wounded. She averted her gaze and wished more than anything that the ground would swallow her whole.

  “Oh, hell no,” Carla said, appearing from behind Elodie with something akin to absolute rage etched on her face. “Chase didn’t choose you, he’s settled for you. Chase is an absolute fuckwit and anyone who thinks otherwise is too, and how dare you speak to her like that? She’s done nothing but try to be a friend to you. You know what, you two deserve one another: you’re vain, shallow and you’re going to find yourself all alone when he moves on to someone else, and trust me, he will do that. Come on, Elodie, let’s go, you’re better than this.”

  For a moment Jessica looked torn, as though a war between what was easy and what was right waged inside her. If such a quandary had existed within her, it seemed to pass quickly. Carla pushed past, her eyes flashing with anger and Elodie followed, still unable to look at Jessica and unable to believe what had just happened. She still couldn’t believe the colours Jessica now showed. ‘I guess that’s just what being with people like Chase does to you,’ Elodie thought glumly, remembering some of the things she had thought and said to her best friends. The two of them walked back to the gala and Elodie’s heartbeat returned to what would be considered a normal rate.

  “You OK?” Carla asked when they were far away from the restrooms. Elodie nodded. She was OK. Of course, the confrontation had been far from enjoyable but Elodie was pleasantly surprised to find that she didn’t care all that much now that the dust was beginning to settle. She didn’t care that Chase was here with Jessica, she didn’t care that Jessica had turned into a bit of a bitch and that she’d allowed herself to be taken in by Chase.

  “Come on, let’s get a drink and have a look round the auction, it’s almost time. Who knows, maybe Wayne Glover’s done another painting?” Elodie said, making her way towards the exhibition at the back of the building.

  “Dwayne, it’s Dwayne Glover,” Carla said, laughing.

  Glasses charged, Elodie and Carla made their way into the auction room. It was a vast expanse of polished floor and high ceilings, not too dissimilar from the Eason Art Space. The glittering light cascaded down onto the pieces up for auction. A couple of them already had red dots placed next to them, which Elodie knew from her date with Aaron meant that they had been sold already. The auction room dictated that patrons be respectful, or in other words quiet. Well- positioned staff had been placed around the gallery and offered the necessary shushes whenever a guest became too raucous.

  “Some of this stuff’s incredible,” Carla whispered, pointing to a huge bronze statue of two people embracing.

  “And some of it really isn’t,” Elodie added, motioning to what looked like an old, mangled bicycle mounted within a giant cloche. They turned the corner, giggling as quietly as they could, not wanting to be reprimanded, or worse, thrown out.

  “Now, something I can get on board with!” Carla said as they reached the photography part.

  Giant photos of famous people in candid shots, beautiful locations, and cool street photography hung on the walls. Elodie and Carla took their time perusing the pictures, stopping every now and then to appreciate them fully. At the very end was a concealed piece, hung behind draped velvet curtains with heavy- looking ropes either side. Elodie leaned forward to try and get a better look, the only part visible was a small gold plated placard that read:

  ‘Title: Hidden Delights. Artist: B. Nash’

  “So what do you say, shall we have a peek at the hidden delights of ‘Hidden Delights’?” Carla said, glancing around, her hand hovering mid- air as if she meant to whip the curtain back. Elodie grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

  “No, we shall not,” she reprimanded, as a member of staff eyed them suspiciously. “That’s it, no more booze for you. You’re a bloody liability sometimes.”

  Carla shot Elodie a wicked grin and took a step backwards, her hands above her head in mock- surrender.

  “OK, no sneak peek. Bet it’s shit anyway,” Carla laughed and was promptly shushed by the nearby staff member.

  Elodie turned to face her, her eyebrows raised in an ‘I told you so’ sort of way but Carla seemed to be staring straight through her, as if Elodie was made from nothing but fresh air. Carla’s gaze seemed to stretch down the entire length of the room and Elodie turned to see what it was she was looking at with such fascination. She realised with a jolt that it was Jenna Broderick, her husband Sven, a model Elodie recognised as being Kiri Kingston and several other celebrities all following in their wake. The group were admiring the artwork and through the quiet of the room Elodie heard one of them say, quite loudly, that they had bought one of the pieces already.

  “Total steal, thirty grand for this one, it’s a DuMour. I’m going to have it hung in the downstairs loo,” the voice echoed.

  A hush fell over the guests as a gong sounded, and from the distance of the ballroom Elodie heard the auction being announced.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, anyone wishing to take part in
the auction need only make their way through these doors to the gallery. Proceedings will begin in five minutes,” a voice boomed over them.

  Elodie looked at Carla with something akin to panic on her face: they were still in the gallery and now, with seemingly every single guest making their way in, they were trapped there.

  “Relax,” Carla whispered. “Just because we’re here doesn’t mean we have to bid on anything.”

  Elodie let out a low sigh. From their vantage point they had a pretty decent view of the gallery and could see just about everyone gathering around the small stage awaiting the auctioneer, who was at that precise moment flicking through some papers, obviously in a last- ditch attempt to remember as much as he could about each item.

  The gong sounded once more and the auction began. Elodie saw several paintings go for several thousand and was amazed at the amount that the old, crumpled bike fetched. She glanced at Carla who was rolling her eyes unsubtly.

  “Next we have a bust of Lady Nicola Bradley cast in bronze. A beautiful piece here, ladies and gentlemen. Who’d like to open the bidding at, say, three thousand pounds?”

  Carla’s hand shot in the air immediately and Elodie spun round to stare at her.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed under her breath. Carla just looked at her with a wicked smile on her face and shrugged nonchalantly.

  “Do I see any more for any more?”

  “Five thousand,” a gentleman at the back of the room shouted. The auction went back and forth for a few moments before a lady in a green gown at the very front of the room silenced all other bidders with an offer of ten thousand pounds.

  “Sold, to the lady in green,” the auctioneer said as he slammed his hammer down and moved on to the next piece.

  “Damn, so close,” Elodie heard Carla whisper through stifled giggles.