Dark Angel 03: Broken Dream (33 page)

‘Tania?’ Grace peered at me from behind her silver mask. ‘How are you doing?’

The fire-eaters’ performance had ended. Wreaths of blue smoke hovered over the bar. ‘I’m doing good,’ I lied, and Grace carried on by.

Then with a swish of his cloak Ryan broke away from Larry and Lucy. Guests made way for him as he strode to greet a band of musicians – the signal for live contemporary music to take over. Guitar players, drummers, pianists and singers all took their places under the giant screen.

‘Fabulous party,’ a woman close to me said to her partner.

I recognized the voice and body of Angela Taraska. The body was draped around her companion as only Angela knew how.

It took me a couple of seconds to work out who her dance partner was – a guy of middle height but stocky, wearing a surreal white bird mask. The beak was sharp as a curved knife. Weller.

The backdrop video image of narrow waterways seemed suddenly real. To the rapid, urgent beat of a drum, Weller and Angela transmuted on to the screen. He danced her along a colonnade, under a bridge and out of sight. I told myself to get a grip, to ignore the image of Angela being swallowed into unreality.

Two more dancers whirled by. The woman shrieked and her hooped skirt billowed upwards as her partner lifted her off her feet. Then I glanced at the musicians by the bar. They wore grotesque, ugly masks with black gaping holes for eyes and contorted, down-turned mouths.

The mouths tell me they are in agony. They are the wailing, tormented creatures of the underworld. Their guitars screech, the piano thunders as rocks fall. My chest feels crushed; I can hardly breathe
.

Grace watched from a distance as Holly caught up with me. ‘Do you see Orlando and Gwen?’ she murmured. ‘Over there, by the door. Is that them?’

Bracing myself, I studied a couple who had just entered the room. Yes, that was Orlando’s black costume with silver trimmings. It was definitely him behind the white mask, under the wide-brimmed hat.

Gwen held his hand, dressed all in silver. The bodice of her dress was straight and stiff, coming to a point below her waist and she wore a thick sash over one shoulder. Her hat was formed from a tall column of embroidered silver satin; her mask was plain white.

A tall figure in black approached them. He spoke to Gwen, who turned her head sharply to look over her shoulder. Then she and the messenger quickly left the room.

‘Now’s our chance,’ Holly decided. ‘Come on, Tania – Orlando’s alone!’

There was no time to think or plan. Gwen could be back any second. We threaded our way through the dancers, signalling for Grace to join us.

Silk dresses brushed against us, satin-shoed women and cloaked, grotesquely masked men blocked our way. There was a whirl of shiny fabric and soft feathers, glimpses of suspicious eyes behind masks with painted smiles.

‘Orlando, it is you, isn’t it? I came to say hi,’ Holly began in her everyday voice.

He didn’t move or react in any way.

I stepped forward. ‘It’s me – Tania,’ I told him. ‘Grace is here too.’

He turned his head away.

‘We’re leaving this party,’ I told him. ‘We want you to come with us.’

The floor tilts. We’re not on firm ground. We’re in a boat, a narrow gondola, and the boatman is Weller in his cruel beaked mask. We’re way out in the lagoon. There’s a whole city beneath the waves – crumbling palaces, broken bridges, churches where silver fishes swim.

‘Come with us,’ I beg.

Orlando takes off his mask. I scarcely recognize the lost face beneath. It’s as if the mouth has never smiled, the eyes have never shone. He looks at me and he doesn’t even know me.

A wave sweeps the boat off course. Grace, Holly and I sway and clutch each other. Another wave slams against us. The boat overturns. We’re in the cool, clear water and sinking to the bottom of the lagoon, our skirts ballooning around us, clouds of tiny bubbles rising to the bright surface
.

‘Orlando has to wait for Gwen,’ a bystander explained above the wave of sound – drumbeat and guitar, keyboard and a rising babble of voices.

‘Why? Where did she go?’ I asked.

‘Who knows? But I hear there’s going to be some sort of an announcement about her and Orlando. Watch out, here she comes.’

Gwen crossed the lobby with the tall figure in black. I could tell by the walk that it was Charlie hiding behind a plain white mask. Before they came back into the bar, Gwen caught Charlie’s arm and spoke urgently. They were about to hurry on when a third figure crossed the lobby behind them.

At first I didn’t believe my eyes, but the slight figure and cascade of beautiful red hair was unmistakable – Natalia Linton was back. Unable to think straight and stick to plan, I left Orlando and ran out into the lobby.

‘How come?’ I cried, tearing off my mask.

Natalia put up both hands as if trying to stop the express train of events. ‘We ran into a snowstorm the other side of the pass. The pilot had to turn round.’

‘And Jack?’ I cried.

‘He’s OK, Tania. The Xcel team has a medic permanently on call here at the hotel. Amber paged him the moment she heard we couldn’t fly Jack to the hospital. The doctor’s with him right now. She’s sutured the wound and given him fluids.’

‘Is he conscious?’

Natalia nodded.

‘Does he remember what happened?’

‘It’s too early for him to talk about that. The doctor wants to sedate him so she sent me down to the medical centre to fetch diazepam.’ Natalia held up two packs of sedatives with a wry smile. ‘But you know Jack – he’s fighting the medics’ advice.’

‘So, everything’s good?’

‘Yes, everything’s good,’ Natalia echoed, but with a rising inflexion like a question mark at the end of her sentence. She held me back as I got set to run back into the bar. ‘You don’t need to go back in there, you know.’

‘Yeah, I do,’ I sighed.

‘You’ll only torture yourself watching Gwen and Orlando party together.’

‘I still have to be there.’ I could spot them now, arm in arm against the video backdrop of St Mark’s Square. Music and guests spilled out of the bar into the lobby.

I was about to fight my way back into the bar when Natalia stopped me again.

‘Tania, do I get the impression that you know more than you’re saying about what happened to Jack? Who else did you and Holly see up on Carlsbad?’

‘Nobody.’ My focus was back on Orlando. This had to wait, I told myself and I pulled away. The action was sudden and it made Natalia drop one of the packs of pills she was carrying. I saw it skid across the polished floor and under a couch. ‘Sorry,’ I muttered. ‘It’s under here somewhere.’

‘It’s OK, I have enough here,’ Natalia decided, in as much of a hurry to get back to Jack as I was to find Orlando again.

I bent down and my fingers closed over the pack of diazepam but when I stood up she was already on her way.

‘Let’s talk tomorrow,’ she said as she ran towards the lift.

‘Tomorrow,’ I agreed.

Should I have left her in the dark about what Charlie had done? Should I have stolen the drugs? I didn’t have time to consider my answers as I ran back to the party.

F
ind Orlando, get rid of Gwen. I’d never needed my mantra more as, clutching the diazepam, I plunged into the crowd of dancers.

Breathe. Believe.

I took a moment to inhale. On screen I saw a beautiful image – the dimly lit interior of an Italian church with round arches and decorated marble columns, a vaulted roof that soared towards heaven. There was a carved wooden screen leading through to an altar covered with a cloth of gold. On the walls and ceiling were faded frescos of angels and cherubs and in one cool, quiet corner there was a life-sized marble statue.

I am there in the church – a pilgrim kneeling on the cold black-and-white mosaic floor. I look up at the smooth face of the Virgin Mary carved in sparkling white marble. The face is serene and compassionate like Maia’s; the folds of her long cloak and dress fall softly to the ground. She cradles an infant in her arms. The stone seems to give off a mysterious silvery light
.

I am drawn into that light. I hear high, pure voices singing. A grey dove flutters from the rafters and alights on my shoulder.

Breathe again. Have faith. My good angels are with me
.

The screen faded on a close-up of the pietà – on Mary’s loving face and the gentle, sleeping Christ child. The focus softened then the screen was blank.

‘Hey, everyone!’ Ryan had waited for the musicians to come to the end of a slow, romantic number played on Spanish guitar before he stood on a chair in the centre of the crowded room and called for silence. ‘I want to take time out to tell you guys what a great job you’ve done here in Mayfield. I recognize that we’ve had some setbacks, but I also know that
Siege 2
will be huge when it hits the screen in spring next year – bigger than anything in the whole thirty-year history of Starlite!’

Ryan let the applause run just long enough for Charlie to join him. People enjoy congratulating themselves, after all. I saw the two men exchange a few words before Ryan nodded then spoke again.

‘As we all know, movie-making is all about team work every inch of the way. Each one of you here has played a vital part in making
Siege 2
the great movie that it’s going to be. And I’m not bullshitting here – at Starlite we totally place the same value on every member of the team, from runners through technical crew members, extras and stand-ins to our major stars. We love you all!’ This time he raised his hand to halt another outbreak of smug clapping and whooping. ‘So enough from me. Enjoy the rest of the party, but before we really let our hair down, Charlie Speke wants to say a few words.’

My stomach lurched as Ryan stepped down and Charlie took his place. I’d lost sight of Grace and Holly but had a clear view of Gwen and Orlando standing arm in arm by the bar.

Glasses shake and rattle on the shelves – a small earth tremor, a warning. Bottles crash to the floor, the mirror cracks
.

Charlie stood on the chair and took off his mask. For a split second I saw him as I’d seen him that first time in Central Park – the angular jawline, the cheekbones: overwhelmingly handsome. Then his face and figure morphed. They melted and reformed as Weller, my stalker in the park then as wolf man Jarrold and finally Daniel, god of the underworld – all in less time than it took me to take a sharp breath. I reeled, closed my eyes then forced them open again. Charlie was back to his human self, smiling across at Gwen and Orlando, beckoning them forward.

‘OK, guys, I hope you won’t mind me holding up the party for a couple more minutes,’ he began, as if embarrassed but quickly gaining confidence. ‘I have an announcement. You all know my little sister Gwen through her great work in the make-up department. What you may not realize is that one of those really neat, story-book things has happened during the shoot.’

‘Yeah!’ Someone gave a shout of approval and a couple of people clapped.

‘So Orlando Nolan is a newcomer to our team – he’s a design student in Dallas. But during a visit to Manhattan he came on set as an intern. That’s where he met Gwen. What can I say? It was love at first sight.’

There were more whoops and cheers as the crowd eased aside to let Gwen and Orlando through. Some people patted them on the back, others took off their masks to say hi and congratulate them. The walk across the room went on for ever. My face ran with cold sweat. I struggled for air so badly that I had to rip off my mask and hat and throw them to the floor.

‘It’s a romantic story of true love in a tough, hard world,’ Charlie continued, smiling broadly and enjoying every moment of his dark angel victory. ‘So, to cut a long story short, I persuaded my little sister that this party was the perfect opportunity to set the seal on their romance and announce their engagement.’

Yeah! All around me guests were clapping and cheering. Party time.

I try to deny it. It can’t be true. Then suddenly I’m under attack. Masked creatures crowd in on me. They are misshapen and cruel. Their bird beaks peck at me. They thrust flaming torches into my face.

They morph from human into beast, fall on all fours and prowl out of the light into darkness. They are lean hounds herding me into a forest, they are wolves stalking me between ancient trees, driving me into more danger
.

I fought them off and returned to the moment when Gwen and Orlando reached the centre of the room and took off their masks. Her pretty, porcelain face shone with triumph. His was void of emotion.

One step more and he’ll be gone, I realized. He was at hell’s gate.

Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! A demand went up – one or two voices, then more until there was a general shout for action. They wanted the Kodak moment, the Romeo and Juliet balcony kiss when the loved-up couple seals the deal.

Gwen turned to Orlando and drew him to her. She put her arms around his neck, pursed her lips and tilted her head.

No way! I wouldn’t let this happen. With the ghost of an idea taking shape inside my head, I pushed people aside, waiting for the dogs and wolves to pounce.

I didn’t notice Jack at first – not until after Charlie had spotted him from his vantage point on the chair and signalled for Daniel and Jarrold to move in and stop him entering the room. Startled, Gwen let her arms drop to her sides.

Jack came in and it was like the waves of the sea had parted – people gasped and fell away to either side as he advanced unsteadily towards Charlie, one arm heavily strapped, hair dishevelled, his face whiter than the masks worn by Ryan’s guests.

Charlie himself was skewered and wriggling under the point of his own dagger.

‘Hey, man.’ Jarrold minus his mask, was the first to step across Jack’s path. ‘Whatever it is you’re planning to do, wait until the party’s over – OK?’

Jack paused, muttered under his breath then with his free hand he shoved Jarrold sideways against the bar.

The wolf man roars. His jaws open and snap shut. He is ready to pounce
.

‘This won’t wait,’ Jack told the whole room. Unsteady but dead set on achieving his goal, he walked on towards Charlie. ‘It’s between me and you, buddy. We have unfinished business.’