Broken Wings (15 page)

“I wish I could take you home with me,” Flora said. “You, bed, and a big jar of
wine.”

“Tomorrow, babe. Oh, I might be a bit late. I have to visit the library first.”

Flora looked unhappy.

Rye stroked Flora’s cheek. “I’ll be there if I have to run all the way. I
promise.”

“I know. I’m just being selfish. I’ll take as much, or as little, of you as I
can get. I just wish it was more.”

Rye stuffed her shopping list in her pocket and wandered into the hall. Holly
knelt on the floor in her room sorting through clothes.

“I’m off shopping,” Rye said.

“Okay. I’m going over to Daisy’s after I’ve done the laundry. Dunno when I’ll be
back.”

“Um. Did you want to do something?”

Holly jumped to her feet to stand at the mirror with a T-shirt held against
herself. “Like what? Clean the toilet? No thanks!”

“No. I meant –” Rye shrugged. “I dunno. Me and you. Doing something together. I
could put the shopping off until tomorrow. It’s a nice day. We could go for a
walk to the river or something.”

Holly looked disgusted. “The river?”

“We used to go there all the time on Fifth Days. Or to the park.”

“When I was eight years old!” Holly threw the T-shirt aside and grabbed another
from the end of the bed. “Wake up, Rye.”

“Okay. Maybe that’s not very exciting. But there must be something we could do
together.”

“What brought this on?” Holly turned her back to peel off her top. “Not some
stupid idea you read about in a limping book? Or something that stupid school
put into your head?”

Before Holly pulled on her new top, Rye noticed that her back still looked
smooth. No sign yet of the lumps beneath the skin of developing wings.

“It’s just that we don’t seem to spend any time together,” Rye said. “Not like
we used to.”

Holly turned to stare at Rye with an unpromising expression. “How can we spend
time together if you’re never here?”

“I have to work. You know that. But I’ll soon be giving up Pansy’s.”

“I’m not a little kid any more. I have friends. You don’t seriously expect me to
hang around with you? You’re an embarrassment. I want the earth to eat me whole
whenever any of my friends see you dressed like that. Daisy complains about her
mother’s frocks, but I’d take a few floral prints over that any day of the
year.”

Holly pushed past Rye on her way to the living room. Rye sighed and followed.
Holly grabbed the rubbish sack with Rye’s dirty laundry in it.

“Holls, wait.”

“No way,” Holly said. “This is disgusting enough. I refuse to sort through your
clothes to find dirty ones. If they’re not in here, I’m not putting them into
the machine.”

“I didn’t mean that. Maybe we could go to a movie?”

“Can you afford it?”

Rye sighed. “You really don’t want to do this, do you?”

“I’m not a little kid, Rye. I’m sixteen. I have a life of my own.”

Holly stuffed some of her own clothes into the bag and strode out.

Rye leaned against the wall. “Crap.”

Rye stepped on board the transit carpet and paid her four piece fare. She walked
back to find a seat. Someone stank of stale booze. She saw a seedy looking man
with sprite-like antennae curled up asleep on one of the seats. She could
understand the temptation to swill yourself into oblivion. What she didn’t know
was how people afforded it. He didn’t look like he held down a regular job. She
worked three jobs and didn’t have room in her budget for more than four small
jars of beer a week.

Hollowberry whizzed by the carpet windows in short, dingy bursts between node
stops. Tired, harassed people got in and out. Rye kept glancing at the drunk’s
shoes sticking out into the aisle. Holly must not end up like that.

Rye turned away to frown out at the passing forest as she wrestled the
unpalatable fact that it was her fault that she’d let things slide with Holly to
the point where she was using drugs. She had let Holly down. But she had to find
some way of salvaging the situation before Holly’s experimenting took her too
close to a brush with the police. Maybe if Holly knew more about Fairyland she
might be more careful about risking them getting sent back. Perhaps Holly was
old enough to understand some of that stuff. Rye scowled. She had spent most of
her adult life protecting Holly and trying to make sure that she need never know
about Fairyland. And it wasn’t only Holly she was shielding by never thinking
about her life before she ran away.

Rye left the transit carpet at the Gentian Street node. She strolled past the
trendy shops and fashionably dressed shoppers. Even though she’d come this way
plenty of times now, she was still aware of sharp glances. It felt uncomfortably
like those first anxious, watchful years after she’d escaped from Fairyland,
when she’d expected everyone to shout an alarm about the illegal alien.

Rye turned into Whiterow Gardens. She swiped her key card to open the security
gates. She had to wait for the elevating carpet to come to the ground. The door
opened to reveal a blue-skinned naiad. She levelled the most transparent stare
of disgust at Rye.

“These are private premises,” the naiad said.

“Yeah, I know.” Rye’s wings tightened against her back. She lifted the key card
for the naiad to see. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use that.”

“And who might you be visiting? How am I to know that card has not been stolen?”

“You could check with Ms. Withe,” Rye said. “Penthouse.”

“This really isn’t good enough. Trades people must use the service lift. It’s
around that way.”

Rye glanced in the direction the naiad pointed. The naiad continued to block her
way. Rye could push past, but that would probably get very ugly. The woman
seemed the sort who would scream for the police. Rye sighed and walked around
the tree. When she looked back, the naiad stood on the inside of the security
gate watching her.

Rye’s key card worked with the service elevating carpet. She rode it up to the
penthouse. The key would not open the inside door. She had to push the buzzer
and wait.

A picture panel burst into life to show Flora’s face. “Hello? Rye! What are you
doing in there?”

The door slid open.

“Is the elevating carpet out of order?” Flora said.

“Not exactly.” Rye stepped out into a small service room between the carpet
garage and the laundry room.

Flora put her arms around Rye and kissed her. “What’s wrong?”

Rye shrugged. “Everything. Crappy morning. Sorry.”

“Want a drink?”

Rye remembered the drunk on the transit carpet. “No, thanks.”

Flora ran her hands up Rye’s back. “You’re as tense as I was last night. Is it
Holly? Have you two argued?”

Rye sighed and bent her neck to rest her forehead on Flora’s shoulder. Flora
stroked her hair.

“Talk to me, lover,” Flora said.

“Oh, fey.”

Rye slipped her arms around Flora and hugged her close. Flora felt really good.
She was the only good thing in Rye’s crumbling, crummy life.

“Do you realise that there are people out there who don’t even know us who don’t
think I should be allowed to be with you?” Rye said.

“What has happened? Are you talking about my parents?”

“No. But it applies, doesn’t it?” Rye sighed. “I thought I got away from being
told what I should do, who I should be, and how I should live my life.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” Rye released Flora and straightened. “I don’t know why I’m letting
everything bruise me today. It’s been a long week. I shouldn’t be dumping it on
you.”

“I think I’m just about strong enough to bear the weight of you leaning
emotionally on me this once.”

“You shouldn’t have to. We have little enough time together as it is.”

“Life doesn’t always cooperate with the plans of us mere mortals.” Flora clasped
Rye’s hands. “Which is why we have to give it a helping hand whenever we can. I
did something this morning which I should have done weeks ago. For you. No, for
us. To make our lives easier. So that we can spend more time together. And so
that you don’t have to wear yourself out with all the walking and working that
you’re doing.”

Rye frowned. Flora smoothed Rye’s forehead with gentle fingers.

“Don’t look like that,” Flora said. “I know you can be difficult about letting
people help you, but this is for us. Both of us. You’ll be able to quit that
terrible job at the fast food joint tomorrow. And I’d really like it if you’d
reconsider and go back to night school. I’m hoping this will help you do that.
And it will help me because I’m going to get to see more of you. I won’t just be
squeezed in between three jobs and all your travelling time.”

Rye accepted Flora’s kiss, but retained her frown. “What are you talking about?”

“I need more of you. This isn’t just my hormones. This is me wanting you around
to share my happy times, and me needing you to curl up next to when I’m sad. At
first, snatching time with you was exciting. It added an illicit air to the
affair. But now –” Flora sighed and ran her hands over Rye’s shoulders and arms.
“Now, lover, I want more than anything in the world for us to be normal. I have
to see more of you.”

“Look, I know that –”

“I know it’s not your doing. And I understand how things stand with you. Your
obligations to Holly. Which is why I’ve done the only thing I could think of to
help the situation. For both of us.”

“Babe, now is not a good time for this. I’ve got some stuff going on that I’m
having trouble coping with.”

“Rye! You’ve not been listening to me.” Flora grabbed Rye’s collar and gave it a
gentle tug. “I’m trying to make our lives easier, not harder. Let me show you.
Close your eyes.”

Rye shut her eyes and let Flora lead her out of the room. The last thing she
needed right now was more pressure to reallocate her time, or to feel even more
guilty that it was her fault she and Flora didn’t spend much time together. Much
as she loved Flora, and wanted to be with her, Holly needed Rye more. When Rye
had picked Holly up and run away from Fairyland, she had assumed complete
responsibility for the kid. She worked to feed them and house them and do her
best by Holly. Sometimes, like now, that made her feel like she could barely
cope. But it wasn’t something she could just shove aside. Rye didn’t really
expect Flora to understand. Flora was an only child and never had kids of her
own. She certainly never had any money problems. Why did Flora have to do this
to her now? Rye needed Flora to be her island of support and escape, not another
source of discord. Especially today.

They didn’t go far. They walked off carpet onto hard flooring. The air smelled
sharp as if an engine had been running on magic in an enclosed space. The
garage?

“Open your hand,” Flora said.

Eyes still closed, Rye let Flora take her hand and wrap it around something
smooth, hard, and cold. A soft, tingling warmth ran from her fingertips to her
wrist. Rye frowned. It felt like she’d been scanned.

“I hope I did that right,” Flora said. “You can look now.”

Rye opened her eyes. They were in the garage. She stood with her right hand
curled around the activation plate on the handle of a shiny new broom.

“I was tempted to buy a sporty model,” Flora said. “You’d look very sexy on one.
But then I remembered you. And, on second thought, I probably wouldn’t want you
looking too desirable to other women. Well?”

Rye flicked her frown from Flora to the broom. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s for you. The end of your transport problems. So you don’t have to work
three jobs to save to buy one. And how you can spend more time with me rather
than getting here. It hit me last night, when I was feeling so miserable and
lonely after I dropped you home. I went to the showroom first thing this
morning. This model has extra wide bristles for maximum carrying capacity.
You’ll probably need that when you do your catering jobs.”

Rye scowled at the broom. “Shit. It must’ve cost thousands.”

“Don’t think about that. Think about what it means to us. I’d pay ten times as
much if it meant a few extra hours a week with you. I know that you have
problems with –”

Rye slipped her hand free and backed up a couple of paces. “You… you just went
out and bought this? And expect it to make everything okay?”

“What? No! Didn’t you hear a word I’ve been saying? I want to solve –”

“That will not solve my problems,” Rye said. “Maybe riding that will make me
more acceptable to people like that bitch downstairs. Or your parents. Is that
what you think?”

Flora frowned and shook her head. “Rye?”

“You think throwing money at me will make everything okay?”

“No! Elm. I –”

“Well, it won’t! Look at me. I’m a poor slob from a slum. I wear cheap, crappy
second-hand clothes. That’s all I can afford. But I owe no one nothing. What I
have, I’ve earned. No one buys me. No one dresses me up as something I’m not.”

“Branch.” Flora looked pale and stunned. “You don’t seriously think –”

“No one tells me what I should be. No one owns me. I’ve been there. Never
again.”

“That’s not what –”

“I’m never going to be some successful actress dripping money who goes to glitzy
parties with you.”

Flora shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve done everything I could for that kid.” Rye’s hands clenched tight. She
turned away from the wall before she put a fist into it. “I don’t know what I
did wrong.”

“Holly? Rye, what is going on here? What has that got to do with this broom? I
don’t –”

“I can’t handle this.” Rye stomped to the hall.

“Rye!”

Flora ran after Rye. She grabbed Rye’s arm and tugged her to a halt in the hall
near the kitchen door. “Don’t just run out on me. Don’t you think I deserve some
explanation for –”

“I can’t do this any more. I’m not the sort of person who should have the key to
your apartment. I’m not –”

“Don’t I have some say in that?”

“Your parents won’t think –”

“My parents have nothing to do with this!” Flora made an emphatic, angry gesture
with a fist.

“Open your eyes! You and I live in different worlds. Your parents are hiring the
most exclusive restaurant in the forest for a day! I couldn’t get a job there
washing dishes. You’re a famous artist. You’re in books. Complete strangers want
your autograph. I’m a nobody from a third-rate building site. You can buy the
fucking moon. I can barely afford the transit fare to get here! You live in a
world of flash parties and fine wine. I live in a mouldy slum!”