Broken Dream (Dark Angel)

by Eden Maguire

  ‘See you,’ he called casually, doing nothing to calm her fear. He paused in the doorway and turned. ‘Tania, you’ll be there too – right?’

  ‘Sure she’ll be there,’ Natalia answered for me, her business with Larry King finished. She was pulling on her black, fur-trimmed leather gloves and zipping up a soft crimson jacket. As she waved goodbye to Adam, she took my arm and walked me down the corridor, inviting me to sit with her in the back of the car waiting at the door.

  ‘Stay and talk,’ she invited. ‘I know you have a plane to catch, but I’ll get you to the airport on time and fast-track you through security, no problem.’

  ‘What about Orlando and Macy? What about our bags?’

  ‘Charlie will take care of all that. Shall we drive?’

  I nodded and felt the car ease away, driving slowly out of the park, under an archway of trees draped with Christmas lights and across Fifth Avenue on to Madison.

  ‘Tania, I need to talk to you about Adam,’ Natalia began.

  We were sealed off from the cold grey world inside a limousine, looking out at wealthy shoppers going in and out of twinkly designer stores under the all-seeing lenses of security cameras.

  Adam – my one pinpoint of light in the dark cosmos.

  Keep a hold of my hand. When evil comes, I will be here.

  ‘Adam likes you,’ Natalia went on. ‘He talks about you all the time, says how pretty you are and how you know the right things to say. That’s a rare connection for him and it makes me think it would be cool for you two to have more time together,’ she confided. ‘As a general rule, Adam doesn’t take to strangers. I guess that’s because of the life we lead.’

  ‘You travel a lot,’ I agreed.

  ‘And our kids are pretty closeted. They have to be, given all the security issues. And then we have the paparazzi to deal with.’ Natalia fell silent as the driver continued to cruise the streets east of Central Park. It was only as we passed the wide arched doors of St James’ Church that I glanced at her and saw her fighting back tears. ‘Take no notice,’ she sniffed, reaching into her bag for tissues. ‘I hate it when I do this.’

  ‘It’s OK, I understand.’

  ‘I have no right to complain. The whole female population of the planet would kill to be in my shoes – right?’

  ‘I guess. But they don’t see the pressures of living the way you do.’

  ‘They don’t see the real Jack either.’ Natalie’s mini meltdown led her to opening up some more. ‘You know what I’m talking about?’

  The grabbing the bottle and the groping, the falling-down drunk and the chasing after his female co-stars.

  ‘I tried to get Charlie to warn Angela,’ she confessed. ‘But then I realized the girl doesn’t care how she reaches the top or who she has to get horizontal with. As far as she’s concerned, Jack is just one more asshole along the way.’

  Ouch. This was her own husband Natalia was talking about.

  ‘I’m sorry. I shocked you,’ she said.

  ‘No. I do understand, honestly.’

  ‘So thank you, Tania. You brought a breath of fresh air into our lives – I mean, for the kids and me, and we really do look forward to getting together again. And meanwhile, you and Orlando fly home to Bitterroot to spend Christmas with your families.’

  And because Natalia had come clean with me, I shared with her in the back of the silent, gliding limo. ‘Orlando’s changed. He’s drifted away from me over the last few days.’ It was my turn to reach for a tissue.

  ‘Do you know why? Is it Gwen?’ Natalia’s intuition kicked in and she immediately hit the target.

  ‘You noticed?’

  She nodded. ‘She was pretty much in your face at the party, wasn’t she? You want me to tell her to back off?’

  ‘Yes. No. It wouldn’t help. Orlando is the one who has to choose.’

  ‘I hear you. But I could get her taken off the movie. We could find a replacement. You want me to do that?’

  ‘Don’t tempt me.’ It was my turn to suck it up. ‘But again, no thanks.’

  ‘You’re not ruthless enough, huh? Or is it that Orlando would blame you if Gwen lost her job and it would make things worse?’

  ‘It’s that.’

  ‘So anyway, let me talk to Charlie. He’ll know what to say to Gwen without being too obvious. But you don’t know anything about this. We haven’t had this conversation, OK?’

  Her insistence wore me down. This time I didn’t say no.

  The clouds were heavy but the snow held off as we cruised on to Park Avenue. As the car stopped outside Natalia’s hotel she gave me a personal invitation to join her and the kids the next evening. ‘The Carlsbad Lodge at six thirty.’ Then, before she stepped out of the car, she tapped on the glass partition to speak to her driver. ‘Drive Tania to the airport. Get her upgraded and fast tracked through security. Her flight leaves at two forty-five.’

  I sat in a window seat looking down on Manhattan – on the grey Hudson and the East River, on the miniature tower blocks below us. Orlando sat beside me in our upgraded seats while Macy settled in a couple of rows behind.

  As the plane rose bumpily through the clouds, thick white vapour streamed by the window, cutting out my view of the ground. Wing flaps clunked, jet engines churned, the fasten-seat-belts signs stayed on until we reached our cruising height and the flight attendants rolled their trolleys along the aisle.

  ‘Drinks, beverages, snacks.’

  Orlando shook his head, hardly glancing up from a book Gwen had given him at the airport. She, not Charlie, had been the one to drive him and Macy to JFK but she’d already said goodbye by the time Natalia’s driver had dropped me off.

  I asked for water and tried to steady my nerves. ‘It feels so good to be going home,’ I murmured.

  He didn’t respond, wouldn’t share in my relief to be leaving my dark angel behind. So I prayed to myself that it was over. There would be no more stalker, no visions of underground hell, no repetition of what had gone before.

  And I worked out ways to convince myself.

  First up, what was so unusual about being mugged in the city? It happened every day – no way was I special. All the stuff about carousel horses coming to life and subway workers being crushed by rockfalls was pure imagination, like Orlando said. In other words, for the first time in my life I flatly denied my own psychic gift.

  Secondly, even if – worst-case scenario – we were talking dark angels, where was the towering Zoran figure in this new situation; the charismatic leader rallying his troops? Where were the beautiful seducers like Jarrold and Daniel to ensnare me and draw me to the dark side?

  In New York there was only the cult of Jack Kane and look how flimsy that had turned out. The guy had no power, was only clinging on to his star billing thanks to the people he had around him. He presented no threat at all.

  And now we were going home to the mountains, Orlando and I. We would soon be walking by Turner Lake, rekindling the emotions I longed to feel again.

  ‘Don’t you love the way the clouds look from up above?’ I murmured. They were golden and bright, a soft cushion of light.

  His head didn’t turn; his eyes stayed fixed on the page.

  We flew on. I watched the sunlight on the clouds, heard a small voice telling me to hold tight to the hand he offered.

  8

  The moment they knew I was home, Grace and Holly rushed to my house.

  ‘The sisterhood is back together!’ Holly crowed, hugging me and demanding to know every detail of my trip.

  Grace as usual kept down the decibels but her welcome-back smile let me know she was pleased to see me. ‘How are things?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘With Orlando? Later,’ I replied. Right now Holly was firing out questions about the shopping, the restaurants, the cinemas and theatres, the whole Christmas vibe of New York. And once in a while she remembered to include Macy, who was sitting quietly for once. ‘You two met at the film studies course, right?’

&
nbsp; ‘Actually, in Central Park,’ Macy told her. ‘We were together in the crush waiting for Jack’s helicopter to arrive.’

  ‘Yeah, I heard about the Jack Kane connection.’ Holly admitted to teeth-gnashing envy. ‘What I’d give to have been there,’ she sighed.

  ‘It was out of this world,’ Macy admitted. Next to larger-than-life Holly on the sofa, she seemed smaller and quieter. She’d taken out her nose and eyebrow studs and some of her ear decoration too, though her cropped red hair still sang loud. ‘I’ve loved Jack ever since I was a little kid, went to all his movies, had posters on my wall. He’s been my idol.’

  I noticed she missed out the part about the world’s top movie star falling down drunk at the wrap party and all the other smutty details.

  ‘And now you’re there in the heart of things, mixing with the slebs.’ Sighing extravagantly, Holly sprang up and grabbed me with both hands. She swung me on to my feet then backed me up against the tall Christmas tree by the window. ‘You totally have to get Jack’s autograph for me, and Natalia Linton’s too. When do you go to Mayfield?’

  ‘Tonight. We’re all invited – me, Macy and Orlando.’ The additional invite had come through from Charlie on Macy’s phone; Get O to drive u and T to Mayfield for 6pm, he’d texted early this morning.

  ‘Cool. So any one of you can get me the autographs, OK. Or hey, how about this?’ Holly’s eyes lit up with what she thought was a great idea. ‘What do you say Grace and I tag along too? Then I can meet Jack in person and get him to sign his name in person.’

  ‘No way.’ Macy was grinning but her negative carried a lot of force. ‘I don’t think that would work.’

  ‘It wouldn’t,’ I agreed. ‘Security is tight, especially around the kids.’

  Stepping back, Holly brushed against the silver baubles on the tree. ‘And you, Tania – you’re telling me this and you’re my best buddy,’ she accused, hanging her head in OTT disappointment.

  ‘So – Orlando?’ Grace stepped in with a change of topic. She dragged my attention where I still didn’t want it to go.

  ‘We’re not good,’ I admitted. ‘But I’m hoping now we’re back home things will get better.’ The words were bland but the feelings behind them were chaotic. I was pained by the memory of how we’d driven home from the airport in silence, how he’d landed the briefest of cold kisses on my cheek when he dropped me and Macy off on Becker Hill. Then when I’d called him this morning his phone had gone on to voicemail. All of these things settled heavily on me and seemed to bruise my heart.

  I remembered how I’d lain awake all night, reliving recent days with the name Gwen constantly on my lips and the picture of the two of them together at the party at the forefront of my mind – her heart-shaped face and golden curls, his smitten, lovelorn look. ‘How can he do this to me?’ I’d asked myself from that lonely place.

  And I’d got out of bed and gone to the window, searched for hope among the stars.

  ‘How can it be not good between you and Orlando?’ Holly gasped. ‘You two have been so through much together – you’re rock solid.’

  ‘I guess that’s the problem. Orlando thinks I’ve dragged him through too many dramas and crises. Now he wants us to be – how did he put it? – “ordinary”.’

  ‘But you don’t bring it on deliberately – it’s the way your brain is wired.’ Gentle Grace put my case. ‘You can’t help being psychic. Orlando knows that.’

  ‘I thought he did. But in New York it was different.’

  ‘You had more … episodes?’ Afraid to mention the dark angel word, Grace hesitated and glanced in Macy’s direction.

  ‘It’s cool – Macy knows,’ I said. ‘She believes in messages from the spirit world.’

  ‘Totally,’ Macy confirmed. ‘I’m in contact with my mom, but my psychic ability is nothing like as highly developed as Tania’s. She obviously has a special gift. I’m jealous.’

  ‘So how was it different in New York?’ Holly followed the serious turn in the conversation, drawing me back to the sofa and sitting me down.

  ‘I can’t tell you exactly, but somehow Orlando wasn’t there for me.’

  ‘Right from the start – as soon as you got there?’ Grace asked.

  ‘No, in the beginning we were good.’ Starry-night good.

  ‘So when did it change?’

  ‘When we got separated in Central Park and I was mugged. It’s OK, I wasn’t injured,’ I said quickly as Holly and Grace gasped. ‘I didn’t even report it to the cops at first. But I had that feeling – you know, the nightmare stuff where everything shifts and I’m in the middle of something really weird? And at first Orlando was – well, he was Orlando. He understood. He fixed things for me.’

  ‘Then next day the same guy stalked her in a car park.’ Macy cut in hurriedly. ‘This time I was there with her so I took her to the cops.’

  ‘Yet when I tried to talk to Orlando, he blocked me. He really didn’t want to know.’

  ‘That’s so not like him!’ Holly protested.

  ‘No, but that’s how it stayed for the rest of our time in the city.’ I faltered, then decided to come out with the whole truth. ‘It turns out, the stalker wasn’t who he seemed; he was sent from the dark side.’

  Quickly my words took effect. Grace had been there, and so had Holly. They both had direct and terrifying experience of the dark angels’ power. ‘Did he hurt you? Are you OK?’ they asked breathlessly.

  ‘Physically, yeah. Emotionally, no; I’m a mess.’

  ‘So why is Orlando acting this way?’ Holly was up from her seat again and pacing the room. ‘He should be with you, taking care of you.’

  ‘He has other things on his mind.’

  ‘Gwen.’ Grace guessed from our recent exchange of texts.

  ‘No! I’m not hearing this right. Orlando can’t have left you to be with another girl.’ At first Holly refused to believe it. Then she dragged everything out of me – exactly who Gwen was and how she first got Orlando’s attention, every detail of the way she looked and acted. ‘And has anything, you know – actually happened?’ she asked at the end of the interrogation.

  ‘No.’ Macy jumped in before me.

  All eyes turned to her, the girl with the blazing hair and thickly mascaraed lashes. ‘How come you know the answer?’ Holly asked.

  Macy blushed and shifted awkwardly in her chair. ‘Charlie told me,’ she mumbled. ‘I talked with him earlier.’

  ‘Who’s Charlie? What did he say?’ Holly demanded.

  Long story, Macy said, but it turned out Natalia had explained to Charlie the problem I was having with his sister, as she’d promised me she would. Charlie had talked to Gwen, told her to back off from Orlando. She’d sworn that nothing was going on between them. Charlie had said back off anyway if she wanted to keep her job – all this within the space of twenty-four hours.

  ‘But really, nothing happened between Gwen and Orlando,’ Macy insisted.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Grace pressed.

  ‘One hundred per cent. Grace swore on her life.’

  ‘Which makes me look totally pathetic and stupid,’ I mumbled after a long, uneasy pause. I hung my head, blocking out three concerned faces, glimpsing out of the corner of my eye the shimmering decorations on the tree and the tiny angel with silver gossamer wings perched precariously on the top.

  ‘Skiing is good in Mayfield,’ Dad told me over lunch.

  Mom wasn’t there; she was in Beijing for three days – her last job before her Christmas break. It was only a couple of months since she’d been treated for blood clots in the brain, yet here she was back at work full-time, busy finding office premises for multinational companies.

  ‘Plenty snow,’ he said in his American–Romanian way – deep, deep voice, articles and prepositions pared back to the minimum.

  ‘Cool,’ I said, pushing my food around the plate.

  ‘So smile. Feel happy.’

  ‘We won’t be skiing,’ I pointed out. ‘We’ll only be visiti
ng. Natalia has asked me to babysit Adam. Macy and I will get to edit the rushes.’

  ‘Big star friends. You see filming. All good.’

  Standing up from the kitchen table, I told him I’d better look for Macy. ‘She went out for a walk, but that was over an hour ago.’

  Dad looked up at me, fork in hand. ‘Cool hair,’ he commented.

  ‘You mean Macy? Yeah, cool.’ It was odd for Dad to focus on the superficial. Usually he’d go deeper than that, but with Macy it was hair.

  ‘Lonely since Mom died?’ He’d heard her story late last night – the cancer diagnosis, the failed treatments. Macy had given him the facts in a brisk, non-self-pitying way and he’d empathized, told her she was welcome to stay in Bitterroot for as long as she liked. ‘But lucky she has money,’ he added – still focused on the superficial, notice.

  ‘Yeah, if you can call it in any way lucky to have no dad and then lose your mom before you reach twenty.’

  ‘I hear you.’ Like me, Dad was stirring his food round his plate. ‘You have soft heart, Tania.’

  ‘You too.’ I squeezed his shoulder as I passed by, grabbed my jacket from its hook and headed off to find our guest.

  Orlando picked up Macy and me at five p.m. and drove us to the Carlsbad Lodge in his dad’s grey truck. She sat up front with him; I was in the back. She chatted about the scenery. I stayed silent.

  ‘I can’t wait to see Charlie,’ she burbled. ‘Tomorrow he’s promised to show me the old silver mine and some of the other locations they’ve chosen for the siege scenes. Tonight he’ll take me to cocktail hour, introduce me to his buddies. It’s going to be a cool evening.’

  It was a long hour’s drive, that’s all I can say.

  Meanwhile, here’s my mini-travelogue about Mayfield: like its famous neighbour Aspen, the town grew up during the Colorado silver boom way back in the 1870s. Those tough old miners fought off the Ute Indians and stuck around right through the eighties and into the nineties. They set up a lumber company, built a bank, a theatre and a hospital. The lucky ones grew rich and constructed lavish houses in the foothills of the Carlsbad Range. But by 1895 it was all over. Boom and bust.