Gabeâ just dictates his latest address and hangs up. And that makes her afraid all over againâthat sheâll find out the address doesnât exist. Or that it does, but Gabe isnât there. Or that he is there, but wonât fuck her, even when she begs. Or that heâll have another woman with him. Or another man. Or that heâll want to do more and more things that hurt. And that sheâll let him. Because itâs time she got what was coming to her.
If you know whatâs good for you ⦠.
Gabe has disappeared around a corner. Cathy starts down the stone steps, hurrying to catch up.
Â
You are not merely curious, Julia tells herself firmly. There is something not quite right about this situation. That young woman looked distinctly troubled. Frightened, even. And if that is the case, then it is your duty to be of assistance. Offer your home as a temporary refuge. The use of your telephone. A cup of tea.
Still, she hesitates at the top of the stone steps. They lead down to a park which is the first in a chain of parks, stretching for miles, each one less well-groomed, more deserted, more wild. Even the terraced rose garden close to the street has dark corners and walls of sculpted hedge. Beyond that is an unlit stretch of grass. And beyond that, trees. Not a safe place once the sun sets, as it is finally beginning to do.
She moves carefully from step to step, trying for quiet. Be not afraid. Strange. Those words havenât gone through her mind forâwell, not since she was a girl.
She stands still for a moment on the stone landing where the steps veer to the side. If she continues, if she turns the corner, she will be able to see down into the park. And very likely, she will see nothing. A stretch of dark grass, just now abandoned by a perfectly ordinary couple who were having a perfectly ordinary quarrel about something that does not concern her.
Be not afraid. She remembers lying in bed, imagining herself the Virgin Mary. Imagining the eyes of the angel on her. And his next words, the ones that would change her life forever, giving her cause to sing the Magnificat. My soul doth magnify the Lord â¦
She is afraid. In a queer, thirsting way. She slips out of her shoes. Picks them up and carries them. The stone through her stockings is cool to her blistered feet. She takes the next step down. Turns the corner.
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Turn your head to the side.
Owen is here. Owen has found her. That is his voice, telling her what to do to save herself.
If someoneâs forearm is pressing on your windpipe, turn your head so you are facing into the crook of his elbow. That will give you a bit of space to breathe in.
Cathy turns her head. Gabeâs arm immediately tightens, pressing now into the side of her neck. With every thrust from behind, he shoves her up against his arm. She can feel her pulse beating feebly against his muscle.
Gimme your clothes, he said . Then, when she was naked, Turn around.
The grass is chafing her knees. Her fingers dig into the dirt. Her head feels empty and light, as if there is no blood in it.
But she is surrounded by angels. Gabe. And Owen. And now this lady who is watching her. Has she always been there? She is in a blue robe and a kind of white headdress, like a nunâs. Her feet are bare. She is wearing shoes on her hands.
As Cathy watches, trying to breathe, fighting the darkness that is moving in from the edges of her vision, the woman opens her mouth and starts to sing to her. Wonderful words. So wonderful she canât hear them.
Yes, Lady. Give me your song. I will do this. For you. And you will give me your song.
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Julia is crouching, clutching at herself. Slowly, she straightens. Her whole body aches. All she can think about are her clothes.
Are they stillâ
Is she stillâ
Yes. There is the hem of her skirt, decently level with her knees. The zipper still closed, the fastener fastened. Her blouse still tucked in, each
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