by Unknown
*
Polly waited in the lift as it soared higher and higher in the inside of the building. It was 10.06.
It seemed to take an age and the noise of the excited tourists became a loud hum as the whirr of the massive engine pulling them upwards towards the summit of the world.
The lift begun to slow, she was almost there.
*
April got into the lift at the bottom of the Rockefeller Centre and waited for the doors to close. She would be too late.
*
Lucas stepped back from the glass and took a look at the rest of the city surrounding him. Central Park, Harlem and Midtown, none he would ever see again. Silence was all around him, not even birds dared come this high.
He thought it would be more profound, maybe a favourite song or image from his past years burning bright to stop him. Words of advice from his parents, his friends or even a favourite teacher. The smell of freshly mown grass, the taste of a cool beer, the throb of a fast car. It was blank though, a canvas he hadn’t really ever even begun to paint let alone understand.
All that was there was April and she didn’t exist anymore. She was gone for good. Her face he could picture, her smell, her taste.
He reached the back wall of the terrace and felt the bricks with his fingertips. He looked right at the guard who was circling to the other side of the building to check there for any misbehaving.
This was it.
With a last look up at the crystal blue sky he messed his hair and wiped away another rogue tear.
Then he began to run.
*
Polly sprinted out of the lift and saw him at once. He was heading towards the glass. She was out of time.
“Lucas”, she screamed at the top of her voice but the glass was too thick. Sunlight blasted through every window making the whole top of the building glimmer.
She burst onto the terrace just as his hands reached the top of the sheet of glass and his feet scrabbled at the slippery surface.
“Lucas” she screamed again and she sensed his body twitch in recognition.
*
Lucas swung over the glass eventually after finding purchase. He had planned not to hold on but something stopped him. Between the cavernous death and existence he merely held on with his fingers to the top of the sheet of glass.
It was agony, the glass was digging into his palms. He knew even if he had wanted to he could never get back over.
The wind was rabid and pulled at him to let go. Whistling and spitting in his ear with howls. Some of regret, some mocking.
In the glare he struggled to see, he had heard his name. He knew someone would come. Even so it was too late, his fingers were slipping.
Eighty-four floors up and the world seemed very small beneath him. It also seemed gigantic. A whole world to know and explore.
He didn’t want to die.
“Please”, he screamed. No one heard but the wind.
“No, I don’t want to”.
Now the images flooded. Mum, Dad, April, Polly. Mum, Dad, April, Polly.
But his grip was weakening.
Through the glare he saw a female figure running towards him screaming his name along with others.
April.
She was here to save him.
He had to hold on.
*
Polly was screaming as the guards flung themselves against the glass. One clambered up being held by another and secured his muscled uniformed arm round Lucas’s waist. Others, strangers and other tourists, pressed themselves against the glass so those taller could use them to reach the flailing figure.
“Lucas”, was all Polly could scream over and over again. The wind spiralled around the posse atop of the building. Death moaned against the glass panels, the reaper had been close to feasting on another. So close. Now he was angry, he howled in displeasure.
“One, two, three”, the guards yelled and hauled at the limp figure.
Lucas was dragged over the glass and with a final cry landed in a heap of bodies on the right side of the glass.
Guards and limbs straightened and looked down on the figure. Lucas was cowering in a ball, unable to move. His face was sheet white.
Lucas blinked up into the glare, “April?”
“No, its Polly” she said and cradled his head against her.
The other tourists were congratulating the guards, they readily accepted the handshakes. What a story to tell and talk about a promotion. Not to mention they had saved a life, obviously.
“Where’s April?” Lucas asked.
“I don’t know”, Polly said letting herself sob against Lucas who was shaking violently.
He closed his eyes and nuzzled into Polly’s lap. She had saved him.
Even so, his heart sank again, he thought it had been April.
*
From behind the glass April had watched the whole scene. She knew Lucas and knew he never gave up, no matter the odds. But in that moment before the guards had gotten to him he had, he had resigned himself to death.
What had she done?
She never believed he would actually have done it, capable as he was of being that unpredictable. It was her fault, it was all her fault.
She put her hand against the glass and let tears begin to flow. She had to leave. She could never see him again, how could she begin to apologise? How could she not be judged for this forever?
For the last time her eyes looked at his figure and she turned away from him. She turned away from New York. She had wanted to go to Los Angeles, Tom had mentioned he could set her up there.
Perhaps that was the answer. London would always be the place her and Lucas left. New York the place she learned to stand alone, she would always be alone from now on. LA the place she would shine or at least begin to heal her guilt.
So she would run, far and fast. He would never find her. Ever.
*
Lucas looked up at the glass, he thought he had seen her. One of many tourists now taking photos of him had opened the door and he had caught a reflection.
“April?” Lucas croaked.
Polly still cradled him and he sat up.
“Sssshhh”, she whispered.
Lucas felt his body stiffen, it had to be her. He could pick that face out of a million. If she was a raindrop he could find her in an ocean.
“Hey man, rest up, the paramedics will be here soon” one of the guards said placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
“No”, Lucas said standing.
“Its not really a choice” the second guard added.
“Ok”, Lucas said bowing his head. “I just needed to stand.”
The guards relaxed, the kid had just nearly died.
Within a second he had slipped their grasp and ran towards the door. He burst through the glass swinging door and sprinted for the lift shoving tourists aside.
“He’s gonna jump again”, one guy yelled aloud and immediately turned his camera to ‘On’.
As he rounded the corner the lift doors were closing, disappearing back to where his body nearly landed.
Lucas skidded to a stop and saw April standing there in the gap of the elevator doors looking at him as the blackness engulfed her and the lift began to descend.
Hammering on the lift he screamed, “I knew it, I fucking knew it!”
Next he knew he was horizontal.
The guards took him to the floor and pinned him down placing cuffs on him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Lucas said nothing, he just grinned.
When they raised him up to his feet Polly looked at his face.
He had an odd look on his face, it was almost serene.
It looked like the face in the painting.
Chapter 8
Some people found goodbyes hard, Tom, for one, didn’t. Not even this one. He hadn’t said many in his life, that happens if you only walk your own path and that path is too narrow to walk alongside anyone else.
I mean, she was incredible, o
f that there was no doubt. Any man would be proud to have her on his arm, forever, eventually. The sex was without question the best he had ever enjoyed.
April though he found to be too unpredictable. What this actually meant was he wanted someone utterly stunning and equally subservient to satisfy every one of his demands. His partner would also heed, be they warnings he had to give by the mouth or other means, he paid the bills, he had the say.
April had bite, far too much. She was as likely to say she loved him as she was to show him up in front of his friends, worse his colleagues, which he couldn’t allow.
The yellow pulled up at JFK and he hopped out one side, her the other.
He handed her the suitcase she was borrowing and detected a sense of sting.
“You not going to wave me off?”
Tom checked his watch, thought of a lie and replied, “I would…but I have to be back up town for a meeting.”
“Right”, April said lighting a cigarette.
He lit one too and told the cabbie to wait five.
She had come to him that morning and said she had to leave as soon as possible. He had lent her some money, about $1,500. Pocket change. Besides, if he ever went back to LA he had a guaranteed lay. How could she refuse? She owed him.
He would have paid her double for the fucking she gave him to be honest. She was only that now, a great fuck. He had wanted her, he had done her, now he was done with her.
She thanked him and asked if he would be coming back to LA anytime soon.
He had thought seriously for a second about it. Move back to the sunshine coast and spend his days drinking beers in Venice with April by his side.
Then he remembered Centon. His life he had paved so successfully so far. That was worth more than any female ever could be.
“I would love to but work, you know? I have just been promoted. Wouldn’t look great to just take a holiday, albeit I would love to.”
April had laughed.
He took it for acceptance, perhaps on her part it was realisation finally of the gravity of the fuck up she had made since coming to this definitely big but decidedly rotten apple.
April let her cigarette fall from her fingers and looked up at Tom.
Another traditionally perfect man for the 21st Century, a product of what women had made of man for the past fifty years. Hard working, good looking, bright, vain, unemotional, anti-women and utterly self obsessed.
There was only room enough for one in the bathroom mirror for an hour in the mornings, never two.
“So I guess this is it?” Tom prompted, aware of not only the metre running but also the ‘meeting’ ahead. Well, in truth, the night ahead as he was having his celebration with Pine. A celebration to end all and he wasn’t even paying.
“I guess”, April said looking beyond Tom at what she hoped would be the very last time at the state of New York and its mottled sky and fiddling rain.
“I have given my friends a heads up. As I said they are very influential in film, jesus, I mean you will kill the opposition no matter what it is.”
“Yeah, thanks. I have their numbers.”
“Ok”, Tom said leaning forwards and kissing April on both of her cheeks.
“Bye”, April said and turned walking towards the departure gate.
Tom got into the cab and waited for her to turn back to him, to see him one last time. She never did.
“Fuck it. 51st and 5th. Step on it”, Tom spat at the cabbie.
The yellow pulled away from JFK and Tom grinned to himself. Tonight would be big, tonight would be unforgettable.
Not even he with all his planning could have ever expected what would unfold.
*
Polly put the phone down again before it had even rung, this was risky. Lucas seemed to bring that out in people.
She opened a Blue Ribbon beer can and it fizzed over onto her hand.
“Fuck”, she said and lit a cigarette. The ashtray was brimming.
She turned around and looked at the painting, which had temporarily taken up residence at hers. With the giant canvas in there she was perched on the end of her bed, there was nowhere else to go.
“Fine, fine”, Polly said to the painting.
She hit the numbers.
It rang three times and then he picked up, she couldn’t even leave a voicemail.
“Charles Kidd speaking.”
“Charles, its Polly.”
“Polly my darling, so good to hear from you. How is the maestro?”
What a difference a week makes she thought to herself swigging her beer.
“Err, he’s good thanks. Look, I don’t want to waste your time, I have a favour to ask.”
“Go ahead.”
Was he ready for this? Probably not. No doubt he thought it some mundane question about the art world and its environs.
“Well, I know you are a well connected man, I mean you seem to know more people in Manhattan than the Mayor. I need you to find someone for me.”
Charles Kidd snorted.
“Sorry what?”
“Yeah I know it sounds bizarre. Its, its Lucas. Well, he needs to find someone and I thought with Christies and his relationship, and mine in fact, you might be able to help.”
Silence was all that greeted Polly. Eventually she heard Kidd cough.
“Look Polly, I love your work and boy I love his, but this really isn’t my type of thing. I am sorry.”
Polly took another swing of her beer and looked up to the ceiling, this had been her only hope. As she was about to say goodbye she grinned.
“Well, I have something I can offer you.”
“Polly look, I am far too old and far too wise to be entering in these kind of games. Really Polly if….”
“Lucas did another painting.”
This time it was Charles Kidd who was silent.
“Its better than the last. By far. And it was done here, not two nights ago.”
Charles Kidd sounded like he was lighting a cigar. Who thought Christmas could come twice a year, and within a week of each other.
“Well”, Kidd began, “Who exactly are you looking for?”
Polly took another swig of beer and raised the can towards the painting and toasted it.
Lucas would be pleased, more than pleased in fact, relieved.
Anything to help him get back from where he was right now, the bottom of a bottle and soon a coffin unless Kidd worked how she hoped he could.
*
Lucas struggled to see who was calling, he was smashed.
He got up at the second attempt from his bar stool and paid the faceless barmaid some kind of note. It was clearly too big a bill judging by her expression but he waved his hand.
He needed air.
When he pushed open the door he blinked rapidly, damn it was bright. Too bright to be this drunk.
“Hello?”
“I got him”, Polly said unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.
“What?”
“Yeah I got him. I know where he is going to be.”
“What?” Lucas said again, those words as good as an ice cold shower to wake him up.
“Where?” Lucas spat rabidly.
“Play it cool. He’s going to a party tonight. Big place Upper West.”
“Can we get in?”
Polly laughed, “You’re the most famous dipshit of an artist in New York right now. Course we can.”
Lucas laughed for what felt like the first time. Tension fell off him and he looked up at the buildings towering over him. Where the fuck was he?
“Where are you? Guessing you could do with a brush up.”
“Just trying to work that out actually.”
Polly laughed. “Look, get back to mine. Your girl is missing you, not me by the way, the massive one taking up every square inch of my damn apartment.”
Lucan grinned. “On my way.”
Four hours, a shower, change of clothes, three aderols, a shave and a game plan later and Polly
and Lucas were en route.
‘We Come 1’ by Faithless smacked out over the airwaves and Lucas just stared out of the window. Not long now.
“Lucas look…” Polly began.
He turned towards her, he looked amazing. Funnily though her urge to be with him had gone, it was weird. If there had ever been a moment it was after the auction. He though had chose to paint April, two things Polly couldn’t match. Yes he was a master, yes he was amazing and charming. He was also someone else’s and always would be. Someone that seemed to be untenable. That was his penance.
“Just play it cool ok? Do it right.”
He nodded and grinned. It was everything in one that smile. It was the right thing, it was the wrong. It was the inspiration, it was the devil. It was the face in the painting, it was the face that was lost.
They pulled up outside and Lucas stepped out into the spring air. He buttoned up his smoking jacket and lit a cigarette.
The music could still be heard from the cab, ‘It would be madness to fight’ Faithless sang.
Lucas put his arm through Polly’s and in they went.
*
The wheels screeched against tarmac and April looked out over the blackness of yet another airport, another city.
Los Angeles, the City of Angels. Her third city in as many months. Maybe here she would realise her dream and it wouldn’t die like it had everywhere else.
London she had been broken, New York chastised. It was her on her own though, her on her own for good.
No one would ever know she was here.
Her against the world.
She would take a leaf out of Lucas’s book. If they didn’t like it then fuck them, she would make it.
She was April.
*
Tom checked his phone. Still no sign of his dealer. He had just over a gram left in his pocket but Marin Lewis was going through it.
It was 7.45, fifteen minutes until the resupply.
This party was thrown by some rich upper west sider but seeing as Centon Estates did the letting and in fact the building of the place he had the right to be invited, or so at least he always made sure.
