Читать книгу A Visible Heaven - Kirsten Blyton - Страница 4

Laura strolled down the street with her head down. She found herself feeling grateful in someone not knowing who she was. It was a reprieve. The whole encounter made her feel grounded in a way that was years past for her – like a normal person, despite the humiliation of the whole meeting. Laura quickened her step. Lunch was becoming dinner by the time she finally reached the café. Laura found her friend, Deb, at their usual booth at the back of the café. Deb flicked down her magazine. She never mentioned if Laura was late; for Deb, whenever she arrived was on time for Laura.It was one of the many virtues she loved about her. Deb gave her a peck on the cheek.

‘Doing some light shopping?’ Deb motioned to the small paper bag Laura had forgotten she was holding.

‘It’s just a card.’ Laura leaned in close. ‘Did you know, there’s this lovely record store at the end of the street?’

‘You know me,’ Deb lifted her glossy magazine. ‘This is the heaviest amount of culture I do.’

Laura wanted to tell Deb about Eve and the fool she had made of herself. She took a pause, then realised Deb knew exactly what that pause meant.

‘Come on, out with it,’ Deb grinned. ‘I know that look.’

Laura bit her bottom lip. ‘What do you think of tattoos?’

Deb raised her half-empty wine glass to Laura with a wink.

After the rush of the morning, Eve finally got to take her belated lunch break. She tapped on her sister’s contact, forgetting about the time difference in Australia.

Anna picked up on the fifth ring, her voice groggy and annoyed. ‘What the hell, Eve?’

‘Sorry, I keep forgetting.’ Eve took a pause. ‘You’ll never guess who was just in here. Well, I mean, I think she’s famous, but you know me—’

Anna cut her off. ‘Yeah, yeah, you’re hopeless with celebrities. For your sake, I hope it was Beyoncé or something, because I’m willing to travel across continents to slap you for waking me up this early.’

Eve’s excitement plummeted considerably from her sister’s mood.

‘Well, are you going to tell me or keep me guessing?’

‘Laura Dalton.’

‘Shit, really?’

‘So she’s a big deal, then?’

‘She’s been in every kind of movie. Jesus, kid, how do you notknow movie stars?’

‘I work in a record shop, remember? I don’t have time for TV.’

‘Such the intellect.’

Eve could feel her grinning through the phone. ‘Wait, how do youeven have time for TV? I mean, being a doctor basically means you have no life.’ Eve quipped.

‘Actually, she’s in a show I watch. It’s called Faith Matthews. She’s plays a detective who solves cases with the help of her dead child.’

‘That’s some twisted shit.’

‘Yeah … but she’s really great. Hey, next time ask for an autograph, kid.’

‘I’ll let her know you’re the one who bought those clippings of her hair. You’ll be on Datelinebefore we know it.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Well, I gotta go. Check the hours next time. Jesus.’

Eve ended the call and placed the phone facing down on the lunch table. She dragged a cheap plastic chair, which she had found abandoned on a sidewalk, over to the sole window in the room. She watched a couple walking hand-in-hand down the street. A gust of wind blew a cluster of leaves against a yellow cab, a few stuck to the hood as it disappeared around a corner, a huge ladybug with misshapen spots. A young girl, no taller than a picket fence, was being swung up in the air by her parents. She kicked out with her small feet, trying to reach for the sun. Eve shook the image from her mind like a faded polaroid. She returned to her desk and ate her lunch in a bitter silence. The rest of the day passed in a blur of credit cards, cash and forgettable faces. A sensation kept nagging at Eve, a pulling from her stomach. A mist of confusion had covered Eve’s usually snappy one-liners towards the customers, which placed her in a bad mood for the rest of the day. No matter what she did, she couldn’t shake the woman from the morning.

Eve’s Nike gym bag hit against her thigh; her music blared louder than she needed. She scanned her membership card through the steel turnstile. The pole arm clicked.

Eve rolled her shoulders. Her feet were light as she sized up the punching bag. Eve got into position, blocking out everyone else in the gym, refusing the attention of her own reflection in the mirror than ran the length of the back wall. She landed punch after solid punch until her face became soaked with sweat and her arms ached. Only when she dealt a high striking kick, which hit the bag with blunt force, did the pull in her stomach loosen and curl away. She gave into the fire that ran the length of her body, down to her fingertips, as her movements became faster and more fluid.