Anne. When I wake up I feel very odd. I think it’s because I feel exceptionally good about things. A disturbing sense of health will not remove itself from my person, I’m unsure as to whether I have experienced this before. Somewhere, in the back of my history, perhaps…but it is so excruciatingly hard to recognize now that it must have been long ago. I must have slept particularly well. I suppose the fresh air, as frightening, upon reflection, as that whole episode last night was, could be seen as potentially beneficial for my body. The running, too, that must have been good. That explains it: I feel healthy because I ran last night. I was also in a mad and dangerous situation and in the morning light I can’t give any logical reasons why I actually did that. Of all the stupid things one can possibly do to raise the heart rate just for a moment- I chose helping a criminal on a violent and supremely surreal midnight jaunt about a city with an already-quite-high crime rate. Not sensible, not good. Not good at all.
Now I feel distinctly negative about future prospects. I make the conscious decision to forget that last night ever happened until the police inevitably come for me, in which instance I should absolutely forget it happened even more. My feigned innocence will be far more convincing if I believe it myself.
Consequently, I commence my regular morning rituals of tea, washing and dressing. It feels wonderfully normal. I think today, I’ll go to the library.
Yves. On opening my eyes, I presume it’s been one of those times when I’ve slept about thirty seconds but feel like I’ve slept ten hours. This is because I can see the exact same thing I could when I closed them; Gabriel’s sharp blue irises framed by thick black lines of lashes studying me at a very close range. When I realize that a night has actually passed, I’m infinitely happier to wake up to this non-contextually unusual sight, because it’s nice to wake up next to someone.
-Hello.
His voice is ridiculously matter-of-fact for this time in the morning.
-I waited for you to wake up because I like to watch you. Tea? I have to go to work soon.
I can’t find a voice to answer the questions, his manner is bizarrely endearing. I opt for the abandon of what he must assume is a logical way of thinking and curl as tightly as I can to him. I am once again taken aback by how deceptive the angles of his body are as he softens so easily to be closer. Maybe one day too I’ll stop wondering how I got to be here and just get on with enjoying it. Not that I don’t enjoy it now, of course.
After a very long interval which comprises mainly of my investigation of his unnaturally long neck I release him, albeit reluctantly.
-Tea would be nice. Do you have to go?
-Yes, and so do you, if I’m not mistaken. You’ve had this job less than a week, better not let them get the wrong impression of you so soon.
-I’d say it’s quite an accurate one if that just means my being late because of you.
-Sweet, but no. We have forty-five minutes.
-Forty-five minutes isn’t too short…
-Forty-five minutes until we have to leave, Yves.
I love the badly-repressed smile that tells me he’s very tempted by my proposition, but he’s right. I should go to work.
This has to be the most extraordinary domestic arrangement I’ve ever heard of. We sit in bed drinking tea and I contemplate how I’d never have conceived this situation in the strangest of dreams. I definitely need to start thinking about something else as well, because looking at Gabriel who stares intently at the wall ahead, not blinking and sipping tea as though hypnotized, clearly has his mind on higher things. I would say I’d give anything to be inside his head but I don’t think I’d last a minute with that amount of information he seems to store.
When we’re outside the front door of the flat, just about on time, he takes my mouth and possibly my logic for the rest of the day.
-We don’t have to go out tonight.
-We don’t?
I didn’t realize there was an obligation in the first place, but still,
-No. And I’d quite like to stay at home.
He kisses me again, very quickly and before I can focus he’s halfway down the street, which is when my brain finally extracts the meaning from his words and makes me particularly excited about this evening.
I wander to the bus stop in a daze, hoping I’ll collect myself a little more before the day at work.
Anne. Four weeks pass of routine and further acceptance of the future, that night seems like a fiction of someone else’s conception. Life returns to relative normalcy, the only difference being that it has been as much time since I’ve ingested anything remotely anaesthetizing: I haven’t had the time, not least the inclination.
Yves. Four weeks of falling into a pattern. Accidentally-on-purpose ending up in perfect synchronization with Gabriel, who made those four weeks into something very close to the heaven I’m sure he comes from. Life has a pulse, a sumptuous ostinato, I’ve never been gladder to be being dragged along. We have a brilliant routine that covers every need we could possibly have. I duly attend work, (although it’s far better than that, I enjoy it.)I return to my flat where Gabriel is sometimes waiting, balancing acrobatically on a kitchen chair, or lying languidly across my sofa, or, less frequently, sitting in a very normal manner in the armchair reading something- at most comprehensive an up-to-date newspaper, at least comprehensive and most commonly, a very heavy book of plays or poems in a language I didn’t know existed. On occasion, my favourite occasions, I presume he’s at his own flat until I walk unsuspecting into my bedroom, where he will be elegantly draped over my mattress, staring out of the window absent-mindedly, apparently completely oblivious to my presence until I dash across the room to join him. Other times, he isn't in my flat, so I go up to his and wait if he isn't there. It's possibly a bit of a mad system we have but it seems to work.
This is how my world is now. Tonight, we're going out again.
Anne. I've done little all day, as usual. It's comfortable, though, this habit of a minimalist lifestyle. I'm almost alright with it. I came to the conclusion long ago that I actually quite enjoy sitting at home and feeling depressed about the lack of direction in my existence so these days I just sit at home and feel content at the disappointing lack of direction in my existence. Actually, that's wrong- there's something else these days. I know, I understand that I have the freedom to change my life if I wanted to. I've always tried to only ever blame myself for all the bad things in my head and succeeded, but at the same time, I never accepted the blame for the things that really get to me. Which is aimlessness. Which is what I have. Or don't have, dependant on your perspective. Now I welcome that blame, because with it comes empowerment. I suppose...I'm no longer bitter about the world. This means I can spend most evenings at home, reading about some long ago time- something I definitely have not tired of. I'd rather exist in someone else's fantasy. I'd rather stick with this habit.
It is on one such evening that I hear my front door open. My heartbeat quickens, I stand up and move as quietly as possible. My door was most definitely locked, as no one I know has a key and as most people would knock if they knew I was in, or didn't, for that matter, I must conclude that whoever has let themselves in in this fashion must be negative news.
-Anne?
Oh fuck, oh absolute fuck. I know that voice, that frustrated, bossy voice, and I didn't want to hear it this evening. How horribly predictable that I wouldn't have heard the last of my dear Mr Stone just over a month ago now.
-What are you doing in my flat?
-Lovely to see you too. Are you dressed? I need you.
-And I suppose it didn't occur to you that I might have something to do, or-
-You never have something to do, don't be so facetious.
-Or not want to? Or do you just assume everybody finds your ridiculous demands completely logical and worthy of their time?
-I don't have to assume, I've tested the theory dozens of times and the results are extremely conclusive.
-You concluded that everyone finds you irresistable?
-Yes? Is that such a problem for you?
-I have absolutely nothing to say to you, Christopher.
-Oh come on. What's changed in a month? Have you joined the convent? Have you found a husband? Have you become a vegan? What could possibly make you want to turn this down? Oh christ, you haven't found a purpose to your life, have you?
He says all of this from in my kitchen. I have to hand it to him, he's so preposterous he's amusing. I say this because I have no doubt he's being perfectly serious, I can picture him pacing the floor, no, it's not just a picture because I can hear his heels on the tiles- rolling his eyes and gesticulating in an incredibly over the top manner.
-Anne. Please.
He puts his head round the door, I've sat down and returned to my book. I give him what I hope is a withering glare.
-I promise we won't break into anyone's house. You won't help me steal anything, you won't have to injure anyone, you won't even have to run much. It'll be nice, I promise...I need you, Anne.
This is when he enters the room, walks up to me, crouches down inbetween my legs and the coffee table with his hands over the top of my book, eyes wide and fake pleading.
-Are you going to leave if I continue to say no?
-Absolutely not...I'll tell you though, Anne, if you do refuse you'll be missing out on so much...
He moves his hand, glides a finger along my cheekbone which I slap away in a second.
-As if that's going to persuade me.
-Fine. Whatever. There's money in it. That's the truth, Anne, there's money in it. Money for you, adventure for you, a future for you! I've watched you, your routine is inconceivably dull. Just one night, Anne. I'll leave you alone after this if you want, but I don't think you will.You just have to.
I don't think he's going to leave my house. This is inconvenient, but I'll afford him a little quality in the point-making. I get up. The look on his face is so triumphant I consider jumping out the window just to spite him.
I end up not doing this and, against my better judgement, follow him out the door.
Yves. We're outside a new place. This is in celebration of Hanne's last night in Britain, so everyone will be in attendance. I've only just got to know her so I'm quite sad that she's leaving, but I do know that leaving is what she needs to do. I'm not the only one who's ever wanted to escape.
We stand outside a door that's nothing like the flashy exterior of any of our usual haunts, but Gabriel promises me that's because it's the best place. It's freezing, absolutely the middle of winter but we're waiting for everyone. It's not too bad, feeling like my hands are going to fall off, because we're leaning against the brick wall of the venue with his arm around me, and his careless establishment of the fact that I am his property always makes me feel somewhat content.
Anton, Mick and Tony are the first people to arrive. They look, as always, impeccable and identical. I consider how we'd look to passers-by, but realise that passers-by in this area are not unused to strange looking people. Sally-Ann and Shirley arrive with Hanne, and we go in.
The club is very dark and quite crowded. There are intermittent strobe lights that illuminate people who are extravagantly dressed even for the standards I've grown accustomed to of late. We're standing near a corner of the room, all of us, waiting for Hanne to come back with things to drink. This is when I see a face I'd forgotten all about, the stunning white-clad silhouette I remember as Christie is standing in our crowd, no one having seen him arrive. Everyone's very excited to see him, Mick and Tony greet him enthusiastically as do Sally-Ann and Shirley. He comes over, kisses me on each cheek and does the same with Gabriel, whose fingers are slightly digging into my waist as I feel him tense up beside me. He pulls me a little closer in quite an overly-protective manner, which is when I remember that there's some kind of history here. This however, seems to have no immediate effect as Gabriel soon relaxes and easy conversation ensues between the whole group. Anton, for some reason, looks a little morose, and saunters off telling us he's going to catch up with Hanne.
When Hanne returns, Veronica and Martin have joined us. I've grown to like them a little bit, even if they do look incredibly sinister and speak to others unnaturally rarely. This is when I realise that everyone's here except Cassie, who is always here.
-Hanne, where's Cassie?
-She called me earlier and said she really couldn't come, she didn't say why. I thought it was a little bit strange but I will see her tomorrow.
Interesting. Hanne hands me a drink and I forget about this. Tonight feels amazingly good, the place has a wonderfully intense atmosphere and everyone seems to have a truly fantastic recklessness on Hanne's instruction, we'd intended for it to be a night for her to remember but the way she's going, I'm pretty sure she won't be able to if she tried.
I look around after some amount of time of being there, I'm never sure about the timescales, noticing that Gabriel is no longer next to me, and I feel distinctly dizzy. It's not that bad at all really, and I'll find Gabriel soon. I see a white figure approaching.
-Hello, Yves.
-Christie, hi!
I don't think I've ever heard him speak before. I'm surprised and drunk enough to sound suitably affable and relaxed when words fall out of my mouth. He gives an alligator smile.
-It's a shame Hanne's leaving, don't you think?
-Yeah, she seems so lovely.
-But she's going to enjoy travelling, I expect.
-Definitely, sometimes you just need the escape.
-Sounds like you know all about that...
-I suppose I do.
He passes me a drink that he seems to have produced from mid-air. His interest in whatever nonsense I'm currently spouting is endearing, it seems genuine. I smile at him because I can't remember why I didn't like him in the first place.
-To escape.
He knocks his bottle to mine.
-Absolutely.
I drink too much in one go, not caring to expect the contents. It tastes a little weird and it's probably very strong but tonight's definitely a night for not caring if ever there was one. Escape indeed.
Anne. I follow Christie down the road until he sees a cab and waves it down. We get in and I don't hear what he says to the driver. We end up in a place I find awfully familiar; where Christie lives.
-Come on in.
We take the almost clean lift to the sixth floor and I am lead into his brightly-lit flat. It's bigger when it isn't clothed in darkness. Still very tidy, still very minimalist chic.
-What's the obsession?
-Which one?
-Everything being all clean and white. You only dressing in white. What's with that?
-I like things to be pure and clean. That's not so strange when you think about it. The world's a filthy place, my love. I like to feel like I shine inside of it. Sit. Do you mind staying here tonight?
-Why?
-Convenience. Nothing strange, I promise. There's a spare room. I know my words aren't worth much but I swear you can trust me. Please feel at home. Please feel safe.
-Does the door lock?
-Would you like to take a moment to think about that question?
I roll my eyes in return, I'll presume I pretty much have no choice in this matter. I decide that it will be easier to trust him, I don't feel like he wants to kill me.
-No, I don't want to kill you. I don't even want to hurt you. I want you to help me, and I'll pay you, and it will all be wonderfully civil and friendly.
-Right. And what exactly is it that I have to do?
-All I want you to do is be in the right place at the right time and be as convincing as you possibly can. I know you're an actress, Anne, I've seen you do it. This is easy, and the bonus is that you could think of it as a first step to a professional career. Think about it. Your first paid work!
-And how long will it take and how dangerous is it?
-Just a passing moment on the stairs. No danger whatsoever.
-And who does it involve?
-No one you care about, no one you know. Possibly no one you've ever seen before or will ever see again in your life. How does that sound, will you do it?
-What's going to happen to the person it involves?
-Absolutely nothing.
I give a derisive snort.
-Highly likely. Yes, I'll do it. I don't see why I have to stay here though.
-So I can explain the plan and prepare you for tomorrow. Which is very soon, so I'm going to go now. I'll show you your room.
I follow him into a smaller room that's exactly the same colour as all the other rooms, and has an impeccably neat bed in the middle of it and a small table with a lamp. It looks like a hotel.
-Do you have guests often?
-Extremely often.
-And do they ever sleep in here?
-...less often. Is this acceptable?
-Yes, fine, yes.
My voice is full of a surrendering sigh.
-Wonderful. I'll see you in the morning then. Good night, Anne.
I don't respond because he's out the door before I can find the effort. I'm tired, so I lie down stiffly on the tucked-in sheets. In the distance I hear the door slam. Christie has left the building. This is bizarre.
Yves. I can barely see. My head feels very strange and the flashing lights are creating mad, mad shapes around me. My senses are all dulled except the colour is brighter. I feel like I should be aching but I'm not. Click. Eyes shut. Click. Eyes open. The clicks are deafening, I bet my pupils are the size of the room. I'll go into the bathroom to check.
Inside the ridiculously white glaring room I stare at my reflection for a very long time, I was right, I can see just the tiniest outline for an iris. I push back my hair for a better view and the sweat-drenched curls are like the tendrils of a strange plant. I look like an animal with eyes like this, huge, mammal eyes. I can't decide if they are the eyes of a predator or a victim. It doesn't matter. There's a black patch of damp underneath the farthest sink I can see in my peripheral vision and it appears to be spreading across the floor like a dark disease. It changes colour as it creeps, emerald green now spreading under feet and I'm standing on a forest floor. Around me the white gives in to the will of the vicious trees that are taking it over, strangler plants sucking out the bright lights. I turn my head slowly to keep the room from spinning too much because in the mirror I've just seen a huge bird walk in, bright blue and feathered, she opens one of the wooden jungle doors and disappears inside- literally digested by the strange undergrowth of this land. How frightening. I hope it's not too terrible in there, but I've already heard the roars of tigers tonight and I know she has no chance of survival.
I look back into my eyes, losing myself in them. After a long time of concentrating on the huge black disks as lifeboats so that the roots crawling underneath me don't suck me up, I spot white feathers, an angelic light in this sinister scene. This bird is stranger than all of the others, I feel claws at my waist that are almost familiar. It guides me, pulling me to walk backwards into one of those terrifying boxes. I think about protesting, but maybe this creature wants to show me there's nothing to be scared of, so I close my eyes and allow myself to be guided.
Once inside, the bird whispers in strange bird-speak that I don't understand. Hissing a word over and over that feels like it should be familiar but isn't.
-Eee. Eee.
It's muffled, it opens its wings and traps me inside its brilliant feathers, when I try to turn around it digs in talons insistently, keeping me facing the jungle wall right in front of my unruly pupils. I feel such strange things, it's trying to uncover me, trying to get at me. Soft on my neck, trying to get inside my covering coat, so I realise that the bird can get further until I feel its feathers on my bare back, so gentle and natural that the invasion is not unwelcome. What unusual noises I hear, what call of another species is this creature trying to elicit from my tongue? I do not want to understand the language it speaks because it is not my own, but I stay because I am covered here, I stay because I don't know if I could escape if I tried.
The insistent scratching of the bird claws or the sharp beak drags down my side, down my back until it decides to try and be closer, removing the remainder of my protective coat, smooth and cool against places that would not usually offer themselves to such an animal. It's a feeling that is not completely unfamiliar, this closeness...this attack...I get more aware, I sense the creature trying to get further, further invading, uncovering, realising more of me, me realising more of this, this is not good, this is not right...
-Yves.
A bang. In a flash the jungle melts away, a second is all it takes and the trees disappear, melt back and back and back until they get absorbed by the shrinking black patch in the corner of the room I saw earlier and this happens and the room gets clearer and my eyes focus, I turn my head to the source of the sound and it's two huge eyes above a bright red circle of a mouth and then it's gone. A flash of blonde before the door slammed back again, trapping me in here with...I pull violently out of the grip of whoever's holding me here, whoever's...I see my shirt on the floor, my jeans undone...I turn around and I see Christie.
No comments:
Post a Comment