Dark Angel (8 page)

I opened the door to Jude, freshly shaved and showered, dressed in pale-blue T-shirt and jeans. ‘Hey, you must be feeling better,’ I began.

He nodded awkwardly. ‘Hey, Tania. How was the party? I came to see Grace.’

‘The party was – well, it was interesting.’

‘I heard it was pretty wild.’ Jude almost had to stoop to get through the door he was so tall. He hovered beside the antique casement clock, unsure. ‘To tell you the truth, I was kind of worried.’

‘About Grace?’

‘She didn’t call me like she promised.’

I shrugged. ‘We just got here ourselves. She’s not feeling too good.’ Better not mention the memory loss, our Rohypnol theory or Ezra. ‘Otherwise, I’m sure she would have called.’

‘Maybe I should come back later?’

‘No.’ I grabbed him by the arm and led him towards the kitchen. ‘You two should talk.’

You follow your instinct and it’s not always right. Maybe, on reflection, I should have let Jude go away, given Grace time to get her head together and take a shower.

‘For Christ’s sake, Jude!’ she groaned when she saw him. ‘I was about to text you, tell you not to come.’

She might as well have slapped his face. He winced and stepped back out of the room.

‘No, sorry. Forget I said that,’ Grace mumbled. Tears welled up and trickled down her pale face; her bottom lip trembled. In fact her entire body was shaking, I noticed.

‘I can leave if you want,’ Jude murmured. The poor guy was shocked and confused by Grace’s personality transplant.

‘Stay!’ she pleaded. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry!’ Sobs rose, her bare shoulders heaved up and down.

‘We’ll go,’ I told Holly, picking up my keys and giving her a long stare, which she ignored.

‘What did the hospital say, Jude? Do you have to go back for a check-up?’ she asked instead.

‘They gave me a new inhaler – increased strength. They say I’ll be OK.’

‘Now that the smoke is clearing.’ How long would it take Superglue Holly to get the hint? I was giving her the look and she was still managing to blank me.

‘Where did you get the bruises?’ she asked Grace, crouching for a closer look. ‘That’ll swell up; you need an ice pack. You should get it looked at by a physio.’

‘Let’s go!’ I jangled the keys, hovered in the hallway.

Grace held back the sobs. Jude went to her. He stood over her, let her wrap her arms around his waist and lean her head against his chest. Then he stroked her sticky, messed-up hair.

‘Catch you guys later,’ Holly said.

Finally! We were out of there, heading for the front door. The last I saw of Grace and Jude was over my shoulder – a parting glance. He was holding her tight; she was clinging to him.

‘Maybe it’ll be OK,’ I said to Holly as we drove away.

It’s the weirdest thing – suspecting something bad but not knowing how to prove it.

‘Will you tell Aaron?’ I asked Holly as we drove away from Grace’s house.

‘Tell him what exactly? “You want to know something, boyfriend? Grace, Tania and me – we all got to meet the great Zoran one on one. Charming guy in spite of what you may have read in the press; really knows how to throw a party. Oh, and by the way, it’s possible we were drugged and raped.” ’

‘Not easy,’ I admitted. And now that my brain cells seemed to be regenerating a little, I was pulling away from the whole Rohypnol theory anyway. ‘So we let it drop?’

‘Aaron
will
ask me stuff.’ Holly sounded tired as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. ‘He’ll want to know how come we were so out of it when he came to fetch us.’

I thought about this as I drove. ‘It’s been intense,’ I pointed out. ‘Making the costumes, getting to meet Zoran Brancusi, the whole build up.’

‘Then Orlando pulling out, Jude getting sick.’

‘You and Aaron having a fight every time one of you opens your mouth. Maybe it was the stress …’

‘The heat …’

‘The unbelievable underground house, meeting the great rock legend, watching the video of the fire …’ Holly and I were singing from the same hymn sheet, applying logic to the whole experience. And we were starting to feel better.

‘So don’t say anything to Aaron, OK?’

I nodded as we turned up Becker Hill. By the time we reached home, we’d made up our minds.

‘There are some things in life that boyfriends don’t need to know,’ Holly sighed, sliding out of the car and heading up to her room to text Aaron and invite him over.

Whatever! I was almost twenty-four hours down the line, alone and retreating against my will from Holly’s and my recently achieved logical position so that I ran and reran events of the night before until the topic wearied me. Were we drugged? Were we drunk? Exactly what did happen there?

Eventually Dad must have read the last page about JFK and came to find me in the studio. ‘So, baby, did you talk with legend?’

‘A little.’ The discipline of silkscreen printing had proved too much so I was back sketching new ideas for my portfolio – the one I would eventually take around the colleges to show my work.

‘Zoran Brancusi – you like him?’

‘Yeah, he’s cool.’ Best to be non-commital, I thought.

‘His family – the Brancusis – many enemies in regime back home.’

‘Yeah, he told me.’ One enemy had been serious enough to assassinate his dad.

‘Famous Romanian sculptor, Brancusi – way back, distant cousin, part of same family.’

‘Hey, I didn’t know that.’ I did like Brancusi’s work though – smooth, elongated stone heads, polished and stylized, now in a special museum in Paris and each one worth millions of dollars.

‘Zoran Brancusi’s father – he died in Prague, in Wenceslas Square.’

I stopped sketching and closed the pad. ‘Yeah, how come?’

‘Shot through head. Maybe political, maybe gang-related crime. Zoran, father, mother were on run. Afterwards, mother took son all through Europe.’

‘I know – Zoran told me that too. He spoke a lot about his past, actually.’

Dad folded his arms and studied me through narrowed eyes. ‘So don’t let it make your head big,’ he warned.

‘What?’

‘Rock legend talks about Romanian family. Seems nice guy. But maybe not.’

‘Dad, will you stop talking in riddles. If you know stuff that you haven’t told me, will you please let me in on the secret?’

‘Maybe Zoran got money to live like king from black market in Romania.’

‘He was only five when he left, for Christ’s sake!’

‘Through mother. She travelled to Mexico – I seen picture of house there. Palace by lake, Aztec temple in garden.’

So now I knew where he developed the taste for Mexican artefacts. ‘Still not Zoran’s fault,’ I pointed out. ‘What else do you know?’

‘Plenty rumours.’ Dad drew a deep breath, picked up my sketch book and leafed through. ‘The usual stories – girls, drugs.’

‘That’s rock stars for you.’ I managed to pass it off casually, but inside I was churning with a mixture of curiosity and cold fear. ‘Do you want to give me specifics?’

He enjoyed charging on down the Zoran route. ‘He likes fast cars, bikes, owns two Ferraris. One story about accident in Porsche, before he quit music scene, became hermit.’

This was news to me. I guess I hadn’t been interested enough to take in every last fact about Zoran at the height of his fame. ‘Did someone get hurt?’ I asked.

Dad shrugged. ‘Rumour went around on Internet – Zoran dead, whole world ready to go in mourning. Lasts maybe three days then he comes out of hiding – video of him alive, no bones broken.’

‘Crazy, huh?’ I considered the macabre story and lined it up alongside other similar rumours. ‘Don’t some people believe Elvis is still alive?’ Instead of dead in a bathroom with clogged-up arteries and a whole pharmacy of uppers and downers running through his veins.

‘Marilyn too. That wasn’t real body they found on bed, only look like her.’

‘Really? I never knew that. Anyhow, a thousand people at last night’s party can’t be wrong – Zoran Brancusi is totally alive.’

‘And maybe you still can’t trust him,’ Dad said again. ‘Rich guys, they think money buys everything, and I guess in America it’s true.’

‘Cynic.’ Right here was where I could have shared my date-rape suspicions, but this was my dad I was talking to and I wasn’t ready, so instead I chose to tell him how intelligent and sophisticated Zoran was, and generous. ‘He plans to make a donation to the Forest Service, in memory of Tony West.’

‘Ah yes, dead firefighter.’ Dad closed my book, went to the window and looked up at the smoke still hanging over Black Rock, then sighed. ‘Life moves on; we forget too quick.’

If I admit it was the loss of control during the party that scared the crap out of me, what exactly does that say about me?

It’s not that I’m a control freak in my day-to-day life – in fact, the opposite. I tend to drift and dream, let things slide like making sure my car has gas, knowing where I left my phone – stuff like that. It drives my mom crazy. Tania, you’ll be late for school! Tania, did you put your dirty laundry in the basket?

But having a black hole in my memory, knowing there are whole hours when I probably had zero control over my own actions, is really scary.

I stayed all of Saturday evening holed up in my room, trying and failing to remember, picturing synapses missing their targets, imagining them as day-glo orange and green squiggles fizzling out on a monitor.

Hey, Tania, less than 24 hrs 2 go!
Orlando texted, plus smiley face.

Yeah. C u at airport xox,
I texted back. Oops, I forgot the smile.

When it grew dark I turned on my bedside lamp and tried to focus on tomorrow. Orlando would step off the plane from Dallas, I would be at the Delta arrivals gate next to cab drivers holding up notices for incoming travellers. Orlando would grab his bag from the overhead locker and rush through the gate ahead of his mom and dad…

My phone buzzed. I picked it up to read the new message:
Tania – Daniel here. Meet me 4 coffee?

‘How the hell did Daniel get my number?’ I demanded on Holly’s front porch. I’d waited until I knew she’d be up and having breakfast, slipped next door without bothering to text first.

Holly was back to normal, looking like she’d stepped right out of an exercise video, toned and glossy. ‘Don’t stress,’ she told me. ‘The guy sends you a text and invites you for coffee. End of.’

‘You don’t think it’s weird?’

‘No. I think he likes you enough to do a little detective work and track down your number. He’s a hunk – you should be flattered.’

Confused, I took a step back out of the porch. ‘So what changed?’

‘What do you mean, what changed? Ah – are you saying, how come I got over my hangover and moved on?’

‘Hangover?’ I repeated. Last time I saw Holly, hadn’t we been considering something a little more serious?

‘Duh – yes! Listen, Tania, I’m out of here in five. Aaron and I have hired a tennis court at the country club.’

‘Sorry. Only, I thought—’

‘That’s your problem, girl – you always
think
! Bad habit – try a little action for a change.’

‘Yeah, remind me to take up beach volleyball,’ I muttered, turned and started walking down the drive.

‘Hey!’ she called. She softened her tone and came after me, spoke in a low voice with a couple of backward glances at the house. ‘I
was
stressed, I admit it. So yesterday, after I dropped by Aaron’s place, I did something about it. I went to the hospital for a urine test.’

My jaw dropped and I stared. ‘And?’

‘I explained to the nurse in the ER that I wanted to be tested for Rohypnol. You have to do it within twenty-four hours, so she went ahead without asking too many questions. If it turns out positive, they offer you counselling and everything.’

‘
And?
’

‘Negative!’ she announced. ‘No trace of that particular drug or any other in my body. That’s it – we imagined the whole thing. Nothing bad went on out at Black Eagle Lodge after all.’

So we were back to normal and smash volleys from Holly but not Grace, who called me as I was about to set off for the airport.

‘You’re never going to believe this,’ she began in a wobbly voice.

‘Ezra asked you out on a date,’ I interrupted.

‘Hey, how did you—?’

‘I got a text from Daniel. Same garbage. So what are you going to do – ignore it?’

‘No way!’ Grace gushed. ‘Anyhow, it’s not a date – it’s coffee.’

‘It’s a date. What does Jude say?’

‘That’s the reason I’m calling. Jude’s here. We’re having a fight. I want you to talk with him, tell him it’s only coffee, but if you plan to take his side, forget it.’

‘Are you at home?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘Wait right there. I’m on my way.’

I made my way to Grace’s house with a time slot of about fifteen minutes before I had to drive to meet Orlando. This felt important enough to make the diversion through town. By the time I arrived, Jude had reached boiling point and was on his way out of there. He looked shaken and angry – not words I normally associate with loved-up, lovely Jude.

‘Stop!’ I told him, blocking the drive with my car. I got out and ran into the house to fetch Grace. ‘OK, everyone take it easy. Jude, I can understand why you’re not comfortable with this. Grace, we need to talk!’

‘What’s to talk about?’ Jude protested after I’d dragged him back on to the porch. ‘I’ve already heard everything I want to hear.’

‘Jude is being dumb,’ Grace argued. ‘How can he even think that I’m interested in Ezra? How come he doesn’t trust me?’

‘OK, let’s go in the house,’ I said, leading them inside. There was a carved wooden bench in the hallway and I sat them both down. ‘You first,’ I told Grace.

‘He’s acting dumb,’ she insisted. ‘I told him – Ezra is an OK guy, he’s new in town and this is his way of getting to know people.’

‘By inviting my girlfriend on a date,’ Jude cut in. ‘A really OK guy!’

‘He’s way too old for me,’ Grace protested. ‘Tell him, Tania. He has to be, what – twenty-one, twenty-two?’

Jude wasn’t listening. ‘He thinks because you went to the party alone, you’re a free agent.’

‘I told him I had a boyfriend. He knows about you.’