Authors: Carys Jones
Pausing by the window of an overused laundrette Amanda fished in her pocket for her mobile phone and re-checked the address she was trying to locate. She sighed wearily to herself as her breath misted before her. It was early December and it was already unbearably cold. Each morning when she ventured out of her luxurious apartment complex there was a sparkling white sheen upon the pavement which meant walking around in her stiletto Louboutin’s was almost impossible. But she persevered. A broken ankle was a small price to pay for style.
But now she was in a part of London she loathed. She’d stayed on the tube far longer than normal, watching her familiar stops pass by her in a blur as she waited. She waited long enough that the train was dredged out of the ground like some mystical creature and finally allowed to experience fresh, open air. Amanda looked out in astonishment at the grey sky and equally grey houses. She was so accustomed to travelling like a mole beneath the ground that sometimes she forgot that people did still actually travel at street level.
The navigation system on her phone told her that she was close to her location. Amanda braced herself, this time not against the cold but against whatever awaited for her at the destination which had been set to her mobile phone. Marie’s fiancé had offered a vague warning at the end of their phone call earlier that week, citing how Marie wasn’t herself.
At the time Amanda thought nothing of the comment. Of course Marie wasn’t herself, the young woman had been almost churned up by a lorry. But there was something about the way he said it which unnerved Amanda and left her shivering with unease.
The card which everyone had signed at A and G Advertising resided in her Birkin bag like a lead weight. She was reluctant to keep moving but she pressed on knowing she owed it to all the people back at the office who were concerned about Marie’s wellbeing. She owed it to Marie to carry on and face whatever changes had taken place in the young woman.
Yet Amanda lingered a second longer, fearing that perhaps the changes Sebastian spoke of were physical. Was Marie now deformed? The thought sent goose bumps racing along Amanda’s own immaculate flesh. She was willing to put on a brave smile and be polite but if Marie had become some sort of gargoyle she doubted she could maintain a pretence of civility.
With reluctant determination she continued on her journey, her heels chiming along the pavement alerting everyone around her to her presence. She just hoped that the following hour would be painless.
*
“Amanda is here,” Sebastian came over to the sofa after accepting an incoming call via the intercom which was connected to the hallway of the building.
Marie’s eyebrows pinched together and pointed downwards.
“You used to work together,” Sebastian explained. “I thought it would be nice for you to see a familiar face. Besides, everyone at A and G has been worried about you.”
“A and G?”
“The advertising firm where you work, or used to,” Sebastian explained.
“Advertising firm?” Marie was deep in thought for a moment before shaking her head.
“Sounds boring,” she concluded.
“Yeah,” Sebastian smiled, “you weren’t that enthralled by it.”
“Then why did I stay-”
Marie’s question was cut short by a sharp knock at the door. Not a succession of knocks, just the one. Blunt and precise. Sebastian opened the door and from her position on the sofa Marie could see a tall blonde woman in the doorway wearing a long beige coat. As she entered the apartment Marie had the opportunity to take in her full visage.
The visitor, Amanda, was utterly flawless. She had long blonde hair which ran down her back, each strand perfectly straight and not a single one out of place. The clothes no longer hidden beneath the coat which she handed to Sebastian looked sumptuous and expensive. She was wearing a white woollen jumper matched with a tight black pencil skirt. She looked like a goddess. For one brief bewildering moment Marie wondered if this visitor was actually from Azriel? She certainly had the statuesque figure to fit in with everyone there.
“Can I get you a drink?” Sebastian kindly offered.
“Coffee, black, no sugar.” Amanda didn’t even look at him as she replied, her attention was fixed on Marie. She was studying her intently, like a child looking over a new creature they’d just discovered, taking in all its features.
“Marie you look…” Amanda paused for a moment, squinting at the younger woman. “Well,” she finally declared in surprise. “You look well.”
“Thanks,” Marie replied uncertainly as Amanda rummaged in her bag before triumphantly retrieving a bent white envelope.
“This is for you,” she grandly presented the envelope to Marie as though within it were the secrets to the universe.
“Thanks,” Marie accepted the envelope and placed it beside her on the sofa, having no interest in opening it.
“Everyone at A and G sends you their best,” Amanda smiled, revealing two rows of perfect teeth.
Marie squirmed slightly on the sofa which instantly sent a sharp stabbing pain surging up from her legs and in to her back. Her eyes sealed shut as the colour drained from her face.
“Are you alright?” Amanda asked, alarmed.
“She’s just still in a lot of pain,” Sebastian explained, handing Amanda a fresh cup of coffee.
“Aren’t you on meds?” Amanda delivered the question to Marie who slowly opened her eyes and wearily nodded.
“She’s on some,” Sebastian stepped in again with a response. “But they make her too drowsy so she’s trying to go without them as much as she can.”
“Oh, honey, take the pills,” Amanda insisted. “That’s what they are for. You don’t want to be in pain, it washes you out.”
Marie didn’t like to admit that the real reason she was trying to wean herself off her pain medication was that each time she fell in to a drug induced doze she dreamt of Azriel. And whilst she loved to dream of its golden buildings and scented air she hated waking up in her tiny apartment. The pain of existing in the real world was far greater than any she experienced as a result of her wounds.
“I’m fine,” Marie announced stiffly.
“Well I’m just glad you are alright, from what I heard you were in a truly terrible accident.”
Marie was silent. People often prompted her to relieve the accident. Perhaps they were hoping that she’d recall seeing some white light which would allay their own fears about their mortality.
“So how long until you are fit and well? Will you be coming back to the office?” Amanda enquired. She’d never been one for small talk.
“Marie needs a few more months of recovery time yet,” Sebastian hastily explained, loitering close by in the kitchenette with his own mug of coffee in hand.
“But then she’ll be looking to return to A and G, won’t she?”
“No,” Marie answered sharply. She had absolutely no desire to return to any aspects of her former life. Why should she? There was a whole world out there over which she ruled as a princess. Nothing else could possibly compare.
“Sweetheart,” Sebastian crossed the small distance between the kitchenette and the sofa and placed a hand upon Marie’s knee, careful not to apply too much pressure.
“I know it’s a long way off and daunting to think about but eventually you are going to want to get back to normal.”
Normal. People threw the word around as though they knew what it meant when in reality, no one did.
“I’d be happy to have you come back to A and G but I can’t keep the position open forever,” Amanda shrugged nonchalantly. Sebastian turned his head away from the visitor and scowled. He’d hoped that inviting a former colleague would brighten Marie’s mood but it looked as if the encounter would only serve to darken it.
“Then give the job to someone who wants it,” Marie told her former boss. “Because I won’t, ever.”
Amanda’s eyes, framed by thick false lashes, shot open with surprise.
“I think I should go,” she said tersely, stretching out the neon pink cup she was holding which was now half full of oaky coffee.
Sebastian took the cup from her and went to open the front door.
“Marie isn’t herself,” he said, dropping his voice as Amanda wriggled in to her coat. Anger made her cheeks flush. She couldn’t believe she’d braved this part of London only to be treated so rudely.
“Perhaps you had some epiphany when you had your accident and now you think you are destined for great things,” Amanda turned her vitriol on to Marie.
“But let me tell you, Marie you’re not. None of us are. And the sooner you realise that the better. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this time. You’ve been through an awful lot, I get that. But the next time I see you, in several months, if you still insist on not returning to A and G then I will give the position to someone else and believe me, there are dozens of young people just lining up for such an opportunity! You’d do well to remember that!”
Amanda turned and left in a cloud of anguish and vanilla. Even after Sebastian had closed the door Marie could still hear the sharp shrill of her heels clicking down the stairwell.
“You didn’t have to be so rude,” Sebastian told her wearing a weary expression.
“Didn’t I?”
Sebastian nodded slightly.
“She was a little…abrupt.”
“A little,” Marie scoffed. “I should have told her to stick her job up her-”
“I’m just trying to make your life feel more normal,” Sebastian came and sat beside her on the sofa. Now that her wounds were less deep Marie could tolerate the shift in weight upon the fabric more easily.
“I don’t think I’d have ever liked that woman,” Marie looked at the doorway where moments earlier Amanda had been.
“She’s an acquired taste,” Sebastian agreed. “But you can’t fault me for trying,” he lifted Marie’s hands in to his own. They always seemed so small and fragile when he held them, as though Marie were a precious china doll.
“Just tell me what to do to make you happy,” he looked at her pleadingly.
Marie saw the sadness behind his eyes, the way his smile always fell flat. He was a man with a broken spirit and he didn’t deserve it to be that way. He was trying tirelessly to hold on to the memory of what had once been between them. The least Marie could do was try and help him a little.
“You must be going stir crazy sitting in this apartment day after day,” he added, glancing around the minute space.
He was right. Marie had counted the cracks on the ceiling, seven, the stains on the carpet, four, and the smudges upon the main window, seventeen, numerous times. The apartment was starting to feel more like a holding cage than a home.
“Okay, let’s go out,” Marie nodded. She could walk relatively unaided now, so long as she had her crutches with her. Orion hadn’t returned to her dreams for weeks. It was time she accepted that Azriel might forever exist just beyond her reach. It was a horrific realisation but one Marie had sensed was coming for quite some time.
“Great, we’ll go wherever you want, just name it,” Sebastian was smiling, his eyes creasing at the corners slightly as he did so.
“The cinema,” Marie announced. “I’d like to go and see a film at the cinema.”
Films offered a window in to another world, escapism. And right now Marie needed to escape the minutia of her own life more than ever.
*
Marie found the dense darkness of the cinema comforting. When the lights went down before the endless parade of trailers commenced she felt a flutter of excitement dance within her stomach. Growing up she’d always loved the cinema. It was a portal to deep space, to endless love and to epic battles.