Still, I resolve to visit her more often and take her little presents of food. Her kitchen had nothing in it. I’ll be the granddaughter she never had.
As I get out of bed, I wonder how Rocco is feeling, if his bout of pain and sickness is over yet. I decide to call when I get to the gallery and find out, but just as I’m unlocking the back door of the gallery, the phone starts ringing inside. I rush to it and it is William.
“Miss Delaney,” he says formally. “The Count is much better this morning. He has finally fallen asleep. He asked me to inform you that he will see you tonight.”
I explain to him that my best friend is coming to visit and we will be going away together for the weekend. Could he also please tell Rocco that I will see him on Monday night, if that is all right with him.
I put down the phone and feel happier. Rocco is fine and Sam is coming today. The day passes easily. Some customers come in, and one even buys a small painting by my favorite South African artist. He paints using mud and chalk and minerals he finds in the earth.
At nearly three in the afternoon the rusty bell above the door rings and Sam walks through. We laugh and scream so much Larry comes down to see what the commotion is about. When I tell him about Sam’s achievement he insists on opening a bottle of champagne. We toast to her success. It is a good afternoon, the sun slants in through the big glass windows, Sam’s hair is like fire, Larry seems relaxed and untroubled, and I feel happy. Sam asks me if I have something to wear for the black-tie event and I say, ‘Kind of.”
Immediately Larry chases us out of the gallery. “Go on. Get out of here. Go buy something before all the shops shut.”
We spill out of the gallery laughing. The champagne is fizzing in my veins, as I link arms with Sam. There is only one boutique worth going to in town, not that I’ve even been in it, but judging purely from the dresses they display in their window, so we head towards it. Even from across the street, I see the most beautiful dress I have ever seen in my life in their window.
“Wow, look at that,” Sam exclaims.
We cross the street and stand on the pavement staring at the dress. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
She turns towards me. “That’s the dress we’re getting for you.”
I shake my head. “No way I’m paying that much for a dress I will never wear more than once.”
“You’re not paying for it. I am. Remember I won ten thousand.”
I frown. “No, I don’t want you to spend that kind of money on a dress for me. The prize is for you.”
“Come on. Let’s go in and see how much it is first.”
The sales assistant comes forward with a smile. “Hello.”
“Hiya. How much is the green dress in the window?” Sam asks.
“Ah, the pure silk evening dress. You have excellent taste. It will look wonderful with your red hair.”
“It’s not me. It’s for her.”
The woman doesn’t blink an eyelid. “It would look amazing with your chocolate hair too.”
“So how much is it?” I ask.
“It’s a steal at two thousand dollars.”
Sam and I look at each other. It is well out of both our budgets. “I’ll find something else.”
“Okay,” she agrees and we start to look at the racks. Sam finds a red dress with a plunging neckline. I try it on, and both Sam and the shop assistant assure me it is ‘the one’. Sam comes close to me. “What’s that?” she asks, touching the amulet.
“A gypsy gave it to me,” I explain.
“Really? Wow! For a moment there, I thought it was precious. It looks freaking real.”
“It is real,” I whisper.
Her eyes widen with surprise. “Whoa! Okay, you need to tell me more, my girl.”
I nod. “Yeah, there is a lot I want to talk to you about.”
The dress is carefully packed for me, then I reject all attempts by Sam to pay for my new dress, and put it on my credit card. Then we go back to the gallery, get into my station wagon and drive back to the caravan.
Chapter 33
Autumn
“Living in a caravan is actually pretty cool,” Sam declares as she deposits her luggage on the floor and walks around the place.
“Make yourself at home,” I invite, and go off to use the toilet. I can hear her opening cupboard doors and closing them.
When I pull the door open, she is standing outside the door with a spatula in her hand.
“You don’t have any food in your fridge and there are only packets of ramen noodles in your cupboards,” she points out.
“I know,” I reply, my eyes going to the utensil. “Why are you holding a spatula?”
She brings it down and smacks me on my head.
“Hey!” I shriek, but before I can catch her, she evades me and with a cheeky laugh sprints away. She takes refuge behind the table. I make a few tries to catch her, but we end up going round and round the table. I give up and toss an empty box of oats at her. She ducks easily and it sails past.
She grins at me. “Missed.”
“Don’t be so smug. You’re sleeping in my bed,” I warn.
She stands with her hands on her hips and huffs, “How many times do I have to tell you to stop eating that poison?”
“But I like them and they’re so easy to make,” I say in my defense.
“They taste like freaking plastic.”
“No, they don’t.”
She sighs elaborately. “Look, I plan to live a very long life and I want us both to be two old ladies together. If you keep eating this shit I’m going to be burying your sorry ass way before your time.”
“You’ll get on like a house on fire with Rocco. He’s fastidious about eating pure food too.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Really? I’m starting to like the man more and more.”
“I bought a cake for you, but I gave it away to the gypsy last night.”
“Mmm… yes, the mysterious gypsy. You’ll need to tell me all about that too, but first, let’s go to the grocery store and get you some food. My treat.”
It’s always been like this with Sam since I was fourteen, when I walked into my third-grade class to find my seat partner was a girl with a riot of flame-colored curly locks. She has refused to let me go since then. Always mothering me, worrying about me, protecting me.
Thirty minutes later, we’re strolling through the aisles of the store. I watch bemused as Sam dumps into the cart packs of whole wheat cereal, organic rice, the good orange juice. Then she drops a bag of frozen spicy chicken wings in.
“Surely that’s not healthy?” I ask surprised.
“Nope, but this is for tonight. We’re celebrating, remember?”
I try to hide my smile as I roll the cart behind her and watch her pick a large bag of nachos, sour cream, microwaveable popcorn, chocolate cake, and two bottles of champagne.
Soon we’re done, and return to my car in the lot. We dump everything in the back, and I start my car and reverse out of the lot and drive home.”
“So what’s new between you and Mr. Ghost?”
I glance at her. “That’s what we’re calling him now?”
“Do you have a better name for him?”
“Rocco.” I answer dryly.
“And how exactly are you sure that’s his real name as he doesn't seem to exist online?”
I roll my eyes. “Not everyone alive right now exists online, Sam.”
“Only those that are alive and have something to hide don’t exist online.”
I turn to see her lips twitching from barely held back amusement. “You’re having a blast, aren’t you?”
“He’s some kind of venture capitalist, right.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Did you ask him for any notable companies he’s involved with that you and I might have heard about?”
“I didn’t think to ask him mundane things like that. I’m an artist. Besides, when I am with him I become almost hypnotized by him.”
&
nbsp; “Autumn?” she calls, in a horrified voice. “That’s what gullible prey do.”
“I know, but I just can’t help it. There’s something about him. It’s like we’re meant to be together. I can’t explain it.”
When we get back to the caravan, we put everything away, open our feast and lay it all on the table. Then we open the champagne, I have no flutes or wine glasses, so we pour it into mugs, and toast to both of us.
“May we always be sisters in crime,” Sam says cheekily.
“May we always be sisters in crime,” I echo, even though the last time we committed a crime was many years ago, when we went into a shop during the school vacation and stole two pencil cases. Our parents made us return them, which was embarrassing, but having our phones taken away and not being allowed to speak to each other for the rest of the vacation permanently cured us of ever wanting to steal or commit any kind of crime again.
As the evening passes into night, I tell her everything. About what happened at the observatory, about last night, how sick he was, his sister arriving, and him knocking the wine out of my hand, even my trip to Zelena’s caravan and what she told me.
Sam puts her glass down on the table. “I want to see his house.”
“What?”
“I want us to drive up the mountain and I want to see his house.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“But we’ve been drinking.”
“You’ve been drinking. I’ve only had two glasses so far, so I’m well under the limit.” She stands. “Come on, I’ll drive. When we get back we can finish this feast, drink the other bottle and curl up with a movie until we fall asleep.”
“We should wait until the morning. It’s a really narrow, dangerous road up the mountain,” I object doubtfully.
“Nonsense. I’ve eyesight like a cat, and I’m a fantastic driver. Get your coat on.”
As I stand reluctantly, Sam has already snatched the keys of the station wagon off the kitchen counter and is shrugging into her coat. She turns to me with a big grin. “What’re you waiting for? Chop. Chop.”
Chapter 34
Autumn
We have the music on loud as we drive up the winding mountain road. Sam is bobbing her head and singing along.
“You just want to see the house, then we’re going back, right?” I ask.
She looks at me and giggles. “Of course not. We’re going to ring the bell, and I’m going to meet the guy you’re literally melting over.”
I’m staring at her, so I don’t see the disaster unfolding in front of us. Only her shocked expression and sudden screech of horror causes my head to whirl around to face the front.
“Hit the brakes, Sam. Hit the brakes!” I scream, my hands slamming instinctively on the dashboard, as I take in the incredible sight of a huge boulder rolling down the mountain!
The rock hits the road a few meters away in front of us and disintegrates into fragments like pieces of a smashed toy, and those pieces are now hurling straight at us.
“Autumn!” Sam screams, and shields her arms over her head protectively, but I can’t look away. My heart is pounding in my ears. It is all happening so rapidly, but time has slowed right down, and my mind processes it all, every little detail. Sam screaming, the sounds, the vibrations from the car being hit, the white spider web patterns on the windscreen as it shatters, the sensation of being showered by little squares of glass. The fragments are thick rectangles that don’t hurt on my skin.
Then, I notice how the impact causes the car to skid and spin to the left, which turns the trajectory of the car towards the ravine.
Sam has her foot slammed on the brakes, but the car now has a life of its own. It slides off the edge of the road. The scream sticks in my throat. There is nothing to do, but I accept the fact that we’re fucked. The car with us in it is going to fall headlong down the mountain, and we are going to crash and probably burn to death.
Suddenly the car stops.
Just comes to a sudden stop. Both Sam and I turn to look at each other, our faces white, our mouths open with terror, shock, and disbelief. By some grace of God, the car is just hanging off the road. Just hanging in mid-air.
“Jesus Christ,” Sam whispers.
I swallow. “Don’t move,” I gasp.
“I have no intention of doing any such thing but,” she replies in a hushed voice, “but we have to do something and fast.”
Without moving my body, I swivel my head slowly and look around us. We are literally hanging in thin air. “Oh God!” I close my eyes for a second. The fear makes it impossible to think. I take deep breaths. “We’ve got to get to the backseat somehow, and crawl out of here.”
“Are you kidding, one move from either of us could change the balance, and we’ll go crashing down the mountain.”
“Okay, how about we both open our car doors at the same time and jump out? The car is stationary so it’s unlikely we’ll get too badly hurt.”
She shakes her head. “You’ve been watching too many crappy Hollywood movies, Autumn?”
“Okay, Einstein, you come up with a bright idea then,” I mutter.
“Let me think.” She cranes her neck forward. “What the hell is holding us up, anyway.”
“Sam, can you please concentrate on getting us out of this mess first?”
“We could call the fire department?”
“You saw how narrow the road was. A fire truck will never fit.”
“We should call the house. Ask for help from Rocco’s staff.”
“And wait thirty minutes for them to arrive? No way I’m sitting in this car for that long. I don’t know whether you noticed, but the wind is picking up. The car is swaying, Sam.”
She frowns. “Yeah, I noticed too. Looks like we have no choice, but to go for your crappy Hollywood idea. But first, let’s try our doors to make sure they open. We’ll try them at the same time so we keep the balance.”
Another gust of high wind makes the car sway dangerously, and I close my eyes with fear.
“Autumn,” Sam calls out. “If we don’t make it out alive… I just want you to know, I really love you.”
I grit my teeth. “We are going to make it out alive, but just in case, I really love you too.”
She plasters a grim grin on her face. “Ready?”
We both very, very carefully, as if we are dismantling bombs, push down on the lever that opens our doors. Then, in unison, we push them open, just a crack. They open, and the car remains stable. We look at each other. It is too dark to see properly what is underneath us, but if we are lucky we will not have far to fall and we might fall on soft soil or the bushes will break our fall.
“Ready,” I whisper.
“On the count of three?”
I nod. “One, two—”
“Hang on, hang on,” she shouts.
“What?” I gasp, my hands are trembling on the door latch.
Her face is very white and her eyes are enormous. “I just wanted to say, good luck, Autumn.”
I nod anxiously. “Yeah, good luck to you too. Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine. After we jump just try to hang onto the first tree branch or bush you roll into.”
She nods back. “Okay. This is it then. I’ll do the countdown.”
“Hurry, Sam. This car can fall anytime. God only knows what is holding it up at the moment.”
“One, two,” she takes a deep breath, “three.”
I push open the door and cold wind rushes into me as I jump into the blackness. I land on soft earth, roll down the mountain for a bit, then crash into some bushes. The car plunges into the darkness. Its headlights are still on, and I see it somersault down the steep slope, onto the road below, and then further and further down until the thick vegetation obscures it completely.
Everything goes quiet.
Immediately, I turn to the left to look for Sam and in my peripheral vision, I see movement, like a shadow, but blurred. Still in shock and suddenly terrified, I think it is
a man moving very fast, but the phantom is gone as quick as I blink. There is nothing there. Heart racing, I peer intently into the gloom, but see nothing else move, so I put the apparition down to my overwrought emotions.
“Sam?” I shout.
“Here. I’m here.” I turn towards her voice. She had less of a fall than me, and is on higher ground than me. In the darkness, her face is a pale oval. I see blood running down the side of her white face.
“Are you alright?” I shout.
“I think so. I had a soft landing.”
Other than sustaining that cut she seems to be as unscathed as me. I try to stand, but my knees collapse under my weight.
“Autumn, are you hurt?” Sam calls, her voice filled with fear.
I’m shaking so bad my teeth start clattering. “I’m alright. Just a bit shook up.” I push my palms onto the damp earth and push myself up again. This time my knees hold and I gingerly half-walk, half-crawl towards her. When I reach her, we hug each other tightly as if we are the survivors of a great catastrophe. We are both thoroughly shaken. I can feel her trembling and her eyes are wet.
“Fuck,” Sam curses. “We could have died, Autumn. We could have fucking died.”
“We didn’t. We freaking survived,” I croak.
She looks upwards and frowns. “Look. There’s nothing by the side of the road where the car was. What was holding it up?”
I follow the direction of her gaze. She is indeed right. The car was hanging at an impossible angle over the edge. We thought it must have been caught on a tree stump or overhanging rock, but I can see now that there was nothing there.
“Maybe it was a rock and it got swept down with the weight of the car,” Sam concludes.
“Yeah, maybe,” I agree quietly, but I watch the car plunge into the darkness. I never saw a large rock falling ahead of it. The area in front of the car was lit by its headlights.
“Let’s get back on the road,” Sam says, standing up, and switching on the torch on her cellphone.
Together we scramble up towards the road. “What do we do now?”
“Well, if we go up to the house, we might get stuck there until they clear away the boulder so I suggest we walk back down and get a cab to pick us up at the base of the mountain. The walk shouldn’t take us more than an hour.”
The Other Side Of Midnight Page 12
