The Other Side Of Midnight

by Georgia Le Carre

  “By the way I hate Marmite,” I say with a laugh.

  “I’ve never tasted it, but it smells disgusting.”

  I catch his hand, my voice more desperate than I expected it to be, “I can trust you, right?”

  He looks deep into my eyes. “With your life.”

  Unless he is a complete, utter, and total psychopath I feel certain I can trust him.

  Chapter 38

  Autumn

  “Are we leaving the hotel?” I ask, slipping off the bar stool to face him.

  His eyes travel down my body hungrily. It makes my skin tingle with excitement. “We’re only going to another floor.”

  “I can’t leave Sam here,” I protest, turning to look at her. She is still in exactly the same position as before, leaning in to listen to her Professor pontificate.

  “We won’t be long.”

  “Okay, let me just tell her I’m popping to another part of the building.”

  “That won’t be necessary. If she looks up from her conversation and appears to be searching for you, that woman over there who works for me,” he nods towards a young woman who is looking at us, “will escort her to the party we will be at.”

  My eyebrows rise. “We’re going to a party?”

  “I’m afraid so,” he says with a slight wince.

  I laugh. “I thought parties were supposed to be fun.”

  His lips twist. “I’ll let you decide for yourself if the party is fun.”

  We walk side by side towards the entrance. I can feel heads turning to watch our progress. I see us in the mirrored walls. I hardly recognize myself. We look strangely regal. Him tall, blond and immaculate, and me dark-haired, vital, and somehow glossy. As we get closer I stare at myself. I know something is different about me, but I cannot say what. Then, just as we go through the door, I realize what it is. It is my skin. My skin appears more radiant, almost as if I am glowing from inside. It must be the massage and facial I had at the Spa.

  We walk down the wide corridor towards the elevators, but instead of waiting at the banks he leads me away from them. We go through a door and arrive at another elevator. He presses the button and it immediately opens. Once we are inside, he inserts a card key. The elevator doors close and the car starts moving. He turns towards me. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, let me know and we’ll leave immediately.”

  I smile “Okay. Make sure you do the same.”

  A strange expression crosses his lips, it seems almost like regret, then a ghost of a smile lifts the corners of his lips. “Deal.”

  I look up at the lights that show the floors we are travelling through and realize we are not going up, but down. Before I can ask him about it, the doors swish open. Rocco retrieves his card from the slot and guides me down a corridor. The ceiling is higher here than the floor we were on before. The walls are powder blue with very fine white plasterwork decorations.

  We come upon a set of double doors with two men in costumes, like the footmen of days gone by, standing on either side of it. I can hear the faint sounds of voices and laughter coming from the other side of the doors. Silently, one of the men makes a graceful motion towards a long table pushed up against the wall next to the doors.

  “Come and choose your mask,” Rocco says, leading me towards the table.

  “Curiouser and curiouser,” I comment as I look down at the array of available masks.

  There are full masks, half-masks, and those that only cover the eyes. Rocco chooses a plain white half-mask, fashioned to look like a bird with a beak. I pick a red one decorated with black crystals to match my dress. I carefully fit it over my head and turn towards him.

  “What do you think?”

  “Perfect choice,” he says approvingly.

  I realize I don’t like him in a mask. It is almost a sense of loss. Suddenly, he seems like a stranger, his eyes very blue and fierce. The doormen open the doors and we walk through. Three things hit me immediately. One, every masked head in that huge, brightly lit room, either subtly or openly, stops their conversation to turn and look at us. The second thing is the overpowering smell of perfume. It hangs in the air as if someone has broken a perfume bottle in a closed place. And the third is there is something sinister, unnatural, and fearful about a room full of adults in masks.

  A body detaches itself from the crowd and comes towards us. She is wearing a very elaborately jeweled full-face mask and a long, shimmering peacock-blue dress. Around her wrist is a distinctive white-gold snake bracelet. Its mouth is open and its eyes are fashioned from blue stones, maybe sapphires. She reminds me of that phrase, ‘everything is brilliance and fury’. I also recognize her immediately, Rocco’s sister.

  “Hello,” she drawls. “How lovely that you could make it to my party.”

  Next to me Rocco stands very still, as still as a statue.

  “Hello,” I return the greeting warily.

  “We must get you a drink,” she says, just as a waiter comes with a large tray of champagne flutes.

  Rocco takes two and hands a glass to me. Rocco must know the source of the drinks, because he takes a sip. I do too. The champagne is delicious, more delicious than what I had at the party, and more delicious than the complimentary bottle of Dom Sam and I had in the room.

  Isadora turns her bright, sharp, predator gaze on me. “That’s a beautiful pendant.”

  “I bought it at a flea market. Would you like to touch it?”

  A strange expression, almost fear, crosses her eyes. “My parents are dying to meet you. They’re not staying long so perhaps I should take you to meet them first, and then you can mingle and dance or whatever.”

  I look up at Rocco.

  “Yes, let’s get the introductions over with,” he says tightly.

  We follow her shimmering body through the crowd. I notice them part to make room for us. I can feel that I am different than them. I am the outsider. Isadora stops in front of a tall couple. I cannot see either of their faces, because they are both wearing full-face masks, but the woman has a very shapely body, the kind of body a woman in her twenties would have. Even the skin on her hands are very smooth. Her enormous and magnificent blue eyes glitter with some great emotion. I cannot tell what.

  The man is the exact opposite. His hands are wrinkled and marked with liver spots, but the most startling thing about him are his eyes. They are smokier, darker, and dear God, more, much more dangerous. There is something blank and crazy about them. Some unfathomable madness that grips my soul and makes the hackles at the back of my neck rise.

  Rocco slips his hand around my waist. I realize it is a gesture of both reassurance and possession. The tension in the air can be cut with a knife.

  “Autumn, meet my parents. Junia and Cicero Rossetti. Mom and Dad, meet Autumn Delaney.”

  “I approve. She is beautiful, Rocco,” the woman says.

  Rocco says nothing.

  “It’s a pleasure to welcome you into our family, my dear,” his father says politely, but his voice is cold and emotionless.

  First of all, things are moving too fast for me. Why on earth would he be welcoming me into the family when Rocco and I are only in the early stages of our relationship? Then I notice something even more strange: neither of them has extended a hand out to me. In fact, the woman, I find it impossible to think of her as Rocco’s mother, carefully maintains a cautious distance from me.

  “What a shame that we have to leave now, but it’s good that we got to meet,” she says. I notice her gaze on my talisman, but she does not comment on it.

  Her hand rises, cuts the air, then lands as gently as a butterfly on her husband’s sleeve. I’m mesmerized by her strange movement. I stare at her hand in fascination. Her skin is very pale against the black material of the sleeve, and her nails are long and painted in a beautiful, opaque coral polish. When I lift my gaze, I see he has turned to look at her. A look passes between them, secret, and full of meaning.

  “Yes, we are already late for our next engagement,”
he says in that emotionless voice of his.

  “No doubt we’ll meet again. Perhaps you can come over for dinner,” the woman says to me.

  Again that sense of revulsion runs like poison in my veins. “Maybe.”

  She turns to her son. “Goodbye, Rocco.”

  Rocco says nothing.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Isadora says quickly.

  The mother steps backwards, then her husband does the same, then the three of them quickly walk away.

  Chapter 39

  Autumn

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoZJdil0_HI&list=PLRU2kFDUg_RLmd-GsT1v4zzYpW1TlRw5g

  For a few seconds I can only stare astonished at the blank space that was once occupied by them, then I turn my head and look at Rocco. His face is taut, and the skin around his mouth is very white, making his lips look redder than usual.

  “Were those people really your parents?”

  He nods.

  “That was the strangest encounter I’ve ever had. I got the distinct impression they did not like me.”

  “Don’t take it personally, that is how they behave towards anybody that is outside their… circle.”

  I notice the slight pause before circle. “Why did they want to meet me while they were masked?”

  He sighs. “Because they didn’t want you to see their faces yet.”

  I shake my head, a frown on my forehead. “Why not?”

  “They have their reasons.”

  “I know. You’ll explain later, right?”

  He nods. “Yes, I will. Would you like to dance?”

  It is only then I hear again the classical music playing in the background. “To this music?”

  He smiles slightly. “Yes, it’s a waltz.”

  “I can’t waltz,” I confess.

  “Just follow my lead.”

  “No thanks. I’m not going to go out there and make a complete fool of myself,” I mutter.

  “Do you really care what any of these people think of you?”

  I look around and once again notice that many of them are actually surreptitiously watching us, actually not us, but me. I meet Rocco’s eyes. “Why is everyone staring at me?”

  “Because they are curious about you,” he replies.

  I nod. “I need to use the restroom, but when I come back you’re going to teach me to waltz.”

  He smiles, a genuine smile, the first one of the night. “That’s more like the feisty spitfire I know.”

  I grin back at him. At that moment, the champagne is making my head buzz pleasantly, and everything in the world feels right.

  “The Ladies is that way.” He nods towards a side entrance.

  “Be back in a jiffy,” I call over my shoulder as I walk away.

  I follow the signs and find that the bathrooms are accessed by going down a spiral staircase. After that there are two other doors before I see the sign for the Ladies. Even here, it smells overpoweringly of perfume. I use the toilet quickly, wash my hands, and go out. Once I’m outside I open the first door which then gives me a choice of doors. I no longer remember which way I came so I open the first door.

  And gasp.

  I have accidentally opened the door to a candlelit room. It is lavishly decorated as if it is a French brothel from the eighteen-century, with heavy red velvet curtains, vibrant art in gilded frames on the walls, a massive bed covered with a plush damask bedspread. It is so crazy. Would there be such a room underneath the hotel?

  Even stranger are the two maskless people in it.

  A young woman is lying naked on the big bed. Her skin looks fresh and rosy, like the skin of a freshly picked sun-warmed peach, her eyes are wide and circled with thick dark lashes, and her right hand is tangled in her long auburn hair. The only thing on her body is a thin strip of brown leather around her ankle. The anklet is fastened with a rectangular silver plate and there is something etched on the metal. Numbers and letters.

  A fully clothed man is bent over her.

  When they hear me open the door, both turn to look at me, but unhurriedly, lazily, as if they are in a slow motion movie. The girl’s body is so heavy with desire even now her eyelids are half-closed. She shows no sign of shame and doesn’t make any attempt to cover her nakedness. She looks at me without curiosity, passively, distantly.

  My confused gaze moves from her to the man. He is extraordinarily handsome, has bright green eyes, and is looking at me with great interest. I want to apologize, to say I opened the wrong door, and back out, but I simply cannot tear my gaze away from the man’s eyes. A deep languor invades my flesh. The air feels as if it is flecked with golden dust. It is like being in a dream.

  Slowly, he straightens and begins to walk towards me. Even though his lips do not move at all, they seem to smile. I feel drawn to him in a way I cannot understand. Hypnotized and transfixed by the sight of him, I can only stare blankly at him. My brain says it can’t be real. It feels like a dream or a powerful illusion, and if I pinch myself I will wake up. I am certain it is not real. He stops a few feet from me.

  “This can all be yours too, sweet Autumn,” he says in a soothing voice. “All of it. Just say yes.”

  I blink. A strange frisson runs along my skin. The pounding of my heart seems to echo all around the room and corridor. A voice hisses urgently in my head, say yes. The urge to say yes starts filling my head, like the hissing of thousands and thousands of snakes. Yes, yes, yes, yes…

  But yes to what? What is happening in this room?

  The girl moans softly, and he takes another step towards me, and suddenly I catch a whiff of that same nauseating odor I had detected as Daniel was leaving, but stronger with this man. Much stronger. It is akin to rotting flesh or excrement. So disgusting it turns my stomach and makes me want to vomit. The sensation breaks the hypnotic trance.

  Unbidden, an image arises in my mind’s eye; a cloudless, hot sky. There are vultures circling in it. Their wings are massive. On the parched earth below, I see the girl with the radiant skin. Her eyes are open, but they do not see the vultures closing in. They stare out sightlessly into an empty bit of the heavens. My body feels horribly cold and my soul hurts at the unbearable sight.

  Stunned, I stagger backwards. I glance at the girl. I want to warn her about the vultures in the sky and her dead eyes, but she has already lost interest in me and turned away.

  “Just say yes, and you can have it all, all,” the man cajoles insistently in his melodious voice, but the veil has been lifted. The disgusting smell of his corruption intensifies, sickening me.

  “Stay away from me,” I shout, and lurch towards the other door.

  I fling it open, see the circular staircase, and sprint up it so fast, I stumble in my high heels and almost fall. Grabbing the banister, I pull myself up. I look behind me nervously, but he is not chasing me. My heart is racing. I don’t know what happened to me down there, but I feel as if I went down those steps without a care in the world, as an innocent, and came back up somehow irrevocably tainted and corrupted.

  When I reach the large room where the party is being held I stop at the entrance, my eyes wildly searching for Rocco. I immediately spot him. Even with the horrid mask he shines like a god or some supernatural being of great beauty. A man is talking earnestly to him, but as if he has felt me arrive in the room, he turns his head in my direction. For across the room our eyes meet. The rest of the world falls away.

  I am breathing hard. I open my mouth and close it. I feel so lost.

  The man is still saying something to Rocco, but he turns away from the man, and starts walking towards me. His eyes never leave mine.

  “What’s wrong? Has something happened?” he asks urgently.

  I look up at him and see his eyes flash and glitter through the mask holes. Something about them reminds me of his sister’s. It sends a shiver through my body. Who to trust? Who to trust? I shake my head. “Nothing is wrong. Can we leave now, please?”

  He puts a hand protectively on the small of my back. “Of
course.”

  In my head, Zelena is saying. “Him. You can trust him.”

  Chapter 40

  Autumn

  Outside the room Rocco takes off his mask and discards it on the long table. With a shudder I rip my mine off as if it is contaminated and throw it on the table. We say nothing in the elevator. When we arrive at the room where Sam is I find her exactly where she was before we left. Nothing has changed, and yet everything has.

  I look up at Rocco. “Can you wait a moment here for me, please? I won’t be long.”

  He nods.

  “Thank you,” I say, and quickly walk up to Sam.

  I call her name and she turns to look at me, her hand rises to cover her mouth in dismay. “Oh my God, Autumn, I’m so sorry. I’ve been completely ignoring you. Give me a minute, I’ll just say goodbye to Professor Chernyshevsky and come with you.”

  I make a stop sign with my hand. “No, no, don’t do that. He’s the reason you were so excited about winning this prize in the first place.” My voice sounds hollow. I know now that it is all fake. All of it.

  “Don’t be such a silly Billy, of course, I’ll come with you. This weekend is about us, not just me.”

  I touch her hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, babe. Stay and talk to him as much as you want. Rocco is here.”

  Her eyes widen. “What?”

  I point to the man standing very still at the edge of the room. “That’s him, there.”

  Her eyes widen further. “Holy cow, that’s him? He’s freaking gorgeous.”

  I glance back at him and see him watching us. She waves at him and he nods in acknowledgment.

  She turns to me and frowns. “What’s wrong with you? You seem strange.”

  I shake my head. “Nothing’s wrong. Look, I'm going to go with him for a bit. I need to talk to him without all this noise and people, but I’ll be back in about an hour. Is that okay with you?”