assault?’ The park cop was starting to wonder how much I’d had to drink. His tone grew more judgemental. ‘I’m thinking you don’t want to put this on file at the precinct?’
‘No, I already tried that.’ Standing up, I felt dizzy and disconnected from my surroundings and it was obvious I wasn’t going anywhere under my own steam, so my cop decided to escort me out of the park. He got the address of my hotel and gave it to the cab driver who he flagged down on Columbus Circle. ‘Don’t try this again,’ he warned as I sank on to the back seat. ‘No one’s going to believe your story, OK?’
‘What’s the deal?’ The skinny, wizened cab driver broke the boredom of his night shift by leaning out of his window to engage with the cop.
‘Kid says she had a stalker who turned out to be a ghost or a dark angel or something.’
‘Groovy,’ the cab driver muttered cynically. Judging by his vocabulary and thin grey ponytail, he belonged to the LSD, flower-power generation. ‘A chick who talks to angels.’
‘Don’t encourage her,’ the cop grumbled as the cab pulled out from the kerb.
Down on Hubert Street, away from the Christmas lights, neon signs and giant digital screens advertising vodka, cars and lip gloss, I paid the driver and went into my hotel, not even daring to hope that Orlando would have arrived ahead of me. For a start, I had no idea how long I’d been lying unconscious, and had lost track of the time. Secondly, I hadn’t received any texts asking me where I was, which meant he was still too busy partying with Gwen.
Sure enough, the room was empty when I turned on the light. I sat on the bed and spent hours listening for movement in the corridor, keeping vigil for Orlando until he chose to come back to me.
I wished we’d never come to New York.
At five thirty a.m. he opened the door and relief flooded through me.
‘Hey, you’re awake,’ he said.
‘Where were you?’ As usual, relief turned to accusation in a nanosecond.
‘At the party. Why did you leave without telling me?’
‘I was tired. I wanted to sleep.’ Watching him kick off his boots and jerk his T-shirt over his head, I realized he was back but was still a million miles away.
‘I had a cool time,’ he insisted. ‘Those movie guys know how to party.’ For the first time since he’d come into the room he gave me eye contact.
‘Don’t look at me that way,’ I sighed. The glance contained a challenge then turned into a stare that said he really didn’t want to talk about whatever was on my mind.
‘You shouldn’t have left early. You missed Macy making out with Charlie.’
‘No, I saw that.’ And you making out with Gwen. My silent accusation widened the gap between us.
‘They left the party together.’
‘Cool. I’m happy for her.’ Exhausted, crying inside, I lay back on the bed.
‘Then the park cops came to check up on us, which killed the atmosphere stone dead. They were looking for underage drinkers, said they’d found a girl out in the snow …’
‘That would be me.’
‘Hah. I didn’t know you’d been drinking.’ He sat on the opposite side of the bed, his back turned.
‘I hadn’t. Anyway, how could you possibly know?’
Ignoring my jibe, Orlando swung his legs on to the bed and lay down with me. Still there was that million-mile gap. ‘If you weren’t smashed, what in Christ’s name were you doing out there in the snow?’
I turned away and curled up on my side. Our roles of a few minutes ago were reversed. ‘Leave me alone. I don’t want to discuss it.’
‘No, come on, Tania – be straight with me. It was dead people talking to you again, wasn’t it?’
‘I said, leave me alone. You’re the one who’s had too much to drink.’
‘I’m right. You had another vision.’
‘And what if I did?’ I retaliated, frozen out by Orlando and unable to share the terror I’d felt by the Angel of the Waters, underneath the arches by Bow Bridge.
‘I truly don’t
‘No, I already tried that.’ Standing up, I felt dizzy and disconnected from my surroundings and it was obvious I wasn’t going anywhere under my own steam, so my cop decided to escort me out of the park. He got the address of my hotel and gave it to the cab driver who he flagged down on Columbus Circle. ‘Don’t try this again,’ he warned as I sank on to the back seat. ‘No one’s going to believe your story, OK?’
‘What’s the deal?’ The skinny, wizened cab driver broke the boredom of his night shift by leaning out of his window to engage with the cop.
‘Kid says she had a stalker who turned out to be a ghost or a dark angel or something.’
‘Groovy,’ the cab driver muttered cynically. Judging by his vocabulary and thin grey ponytail, he belonged to the LSD, flower-power generation. ‘A chick who talks to angels.’
‘Don’t encourage her,’ the cop grumbled as the cab pulled out from the kerb.
Down on Hubert Street, away from the Christmas lights, neon signs and giant digital screens advertising vodka, cars and lip gloss, I paid the driver and went into my hotel, not even daring to hope that Orlando would have arrived ahead of me. For a start, I had no idea how long I’d been lying unconscious, and had lost track of the time. Secondly, I hadn’t received any texts asking me where I was, which meant he was still too busy partying with Gwen.
Sure enough, the room was empty when I turned on the light. I sat on the bed and spent hours listening for movement in the corridor, keeping vigil for Orlando until he chose to come back to me.
I wished we’d never come to New York.
At five thirty a.m. he opened the door and relief flooded through me.
‘Hey, you’re awake,’ he said.
‘Where were you?’ As usual, relief turned to accusation in a nanosecond.
‘At the party. Why did you leave without telling me?’
‘I was tired. I wanted to sleep.’ Watching him kick off his boots and jerk his T-shirt over his head, I realized he was back but was still a million miles away.
‘I had a cool time,’ he insisted. ‘Those movie guys know how to party.’ For the first time since he’d come into the room he gave me eye contact.
‘Don’t look at me that way,’ I sighed. The glance contained a challenge then turned into a stare that said he really didn’t want to talk about whatever was on my mind.
‘You shouldn’t have left early. You missed Macy making out with Charlie.’
‘No, I saw that.’ And you making out with Gwen. My silent accusation widened the gap between us.
‘They left the party together.’
‘Cool. I’m happy for her.’ Exhausted, crying inside, I lay back on the bed.
‘Then the park cops came to check up on us, which killed the atmosphere stone dead. They were looking for underage drinkers, said they’d found a girl out in the snow …’
‘That would be me.’
‘Hah. I didn’t know you’d been drinking.’ He sat on the opposite side of the bed, his back turned.
‘I hadn’t. Anyway, how could you possibly know?’
Ignoring my jibe, Orlando swung his legs on to the bed and lay down with me. Still there was that million-mile gap. ‘If you weren’t smashed, what in Christ’s name were you doing out there in the snow?’
I turned away and curled up on my side. Our roles of a few minutes ago were reversed. ‘Leave me alone. I don’t want to discuss it.’
‘No, come on, Tania – be straight with me. It was dead people talking to you again, wasn’t it?’
‘I said, leave me alone. You’re the one who’s had too much to drink.’
‘I’m right. You had another vision.’
‘And what if I did?’ I retaliated, frozen out by Orlando and unable to share the terror I’d felt by the Angel of the Waters, underneath the arches by Bow Bridge.
‘I truly don’t
Similar Books
