Océane stood outside the door to Carla’s flat wondering how on earth she was going to explain not only her absence but also the two men standing behind her. Carla may be sick but it hadn’t affected her brain and she was going to want answers. She turned to Laen and Corin, who were looking at her quizzically, wondering what she was waiting for.
“I don’t know what to say to her,” she admitted, clutching her arms around her body. She had never felt so cold in all her life.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” Corin said with a reassuring smile. “Just use the excuse we gave Pierre and we will back you up, won’t we?” He turned to Laen who nodded but said nothing and Océane wondered if he was counting the moments until he could get out of this filthy place. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since he had seen her flat and she figured he had worked out the fact that she was so far beneath him she may as well be an amoeba. She wondered what his family would say if he brought someone like her home. They’d probably chop off his head for sullying the bloodline. He probably felt that way himself anyway. He certainly had when she’d first arrived.
“OK.” She turned back to the door and took a deep breath before knocking. She didn’t like lying to her friend but if she told her the truth she’d have her carted off to the funny farm.
She heard the keening wail of a police car a few streets away as she shuffled about on the door step while the dazzling lights of Paris turned the night sky a pale purple. It was as though the jet sky had faded from misuse, and the sickly violet was what they were left with in place of the deep star-studded black she had seen in the other world. She shoved the longing for it away and instead focused on the soft footfalls she heard approaching the door. There was the noise of various bolts and locks being turned and slid back and Océane’s heart froze when the door was finally opened not by Carla but by a nurse.
“Oh, my God. Is she OK, what’s happened?”
“I’m guessing you’re Océane?” the nurse queried and Océane nodded, frantic to know what was going on. The nurse extended her hand and Océane took it. “I’m Charlène. I’ve been looking after her. Please come in.” She let them in the flat, which was almost identical to Océane’s even down to the smell of damp that clung to the walls and the hideous wallpaper that both she and Carla despised. She gestured for them to take a seat and then carefully closed the door to the bedroom. Océane watched her, hardly daring to breathe as she turned back around and instinctively knew she was going to be hearing bad news. She felt a lump appear in her throat and suddenly felt sorry for the nurse having to be the one who broke it to her. She was a young black woman, tall and slender and she had the most beautiful hair. It was very long and tied back into hundreds of tiny, delicate plaits. Perhaps it was a strange thing to notice when she knew what was coming. Carla would have admired it and commented on it by now for sure, she thought, and swallowed hard as the nurse sat herself down, her eyes soft and full of sympathy.
“Is she OK?” Océane asked, hoping anyway for an answer she knew she wouldn't hear.
The nurse reached forward and touched her hand. “I’m so very sorry but it appears that the cancer was far more advanced than anyone had realised.”
Océane felt her eyes fill and shook her head. “No, no, no. Oh, no ...” She put her head in her hands and after a moment felt the armchair she sat in creak as someone sat beside her and placed a comforting arm on her back. “Why isn’t she in hospital?” she said, her voice thick as she tried to hold back her tears.
“She was. She was taken straight in after the results came back but there was nothing they could do so she discharged herself.” Charlène smiled and it was a warm and genuine smile. “I have never, in all my days, known a more stubborn woman than the one in that bed.” She shook her head, the admiration for Carla clear in her eyes. “She wanted to come home and so home she came. Gave those doctors what for, I can tell you.”
Océane nodded and tried to smile. That certainly described the girl she knew. She looked up to see Laen standing in the corner of the room. His shoulders were hunched over, his arms folded and he was staring at the floor, not meeting her eyes. Océane swallowed as she turned to find Corin sitting beside her and reached up and found his hand. He squeezed it gently, giving her courage. “Can I see her?” she asked the nurse.
“You better had, she’s talked of nothing but you since I’ve been here,” Charlène said, getting up and smoothing down her uniform, which was rumpled no doubt from trying to catnap in the uncomfortable chair. “She’s had the police around you know.”
“Oh no.” She put her hand to her mouth and stifled a sob as the guilt welled up and threatened to overwhelm her. They had always been there for each other. They had met in the orphanage when they were eight years old and they had been each other’s family ever since. There was nothing they hadn’t seen each other through, no secret they hadn’t shared, and now as Carla was dying ... She sobbed silently, drawing in great heaving breaths that filled her lungs but didn’t seem to give her any oxygen. In her misery she thought she heard Corin speak to Laen sharply but Laen didn’t come. It was Corin who crouched at her feet and pulled her into an embrace, his hand stroking her hair and murmuring soft words she could not take in but were nonetheless comforting.
She heard the nurse speaking to him, her voice hushed. “How about I take a walk for ten minutes and give you some privacy?”
“You are very kind, thank you,” Corin replied, and there was a blast of cold air as she opened and shut the front door and left the three of them alone. “What do you want to do, Océane? Are you ready to see her now?”
She nodded, too numb to speak and Corin helped her to her feet. “Would you like us to stay or should we leave you alone?”
She shook her head vigorously as panic rose in her chest and she clasped his hand tight. He returned the pressure with a sad smile. “Whatever you need, darling.” She didn’t look at Laen. He had obviously made his choice, and whatever it was it clearly didn’t include her. He didn’t care for her, that was obvious enough or it would be him holding her hand, trying to comfort her. She had Carla to worry about now, nothing else mattered. Her own heartache would have to wait.
“We’ll give you a few moments before we come in, shall we?” Corin asked. “We don’t want to frighten her,” he said with a wry smile and gestured at Laen. She nodded and walked to the bedroom door, and took a breath of air that seemed thick with the redolent smell of sickness before walking in as quietly as she could. Carla was lying down, propped up on pillows with her eyes shut, and Océane gasped at the change she saw. She had always been skinny and the chemo had been taking its toll but now her face seemed to have sunk in on itself. The last time they had spoken about her illness Carla had indicated that the treatment had been successful. Now as she looked at the frail girl in front of her, she wondered just how truthful she had been. Had she known all this time and kept it to herself?
The wig that she had taken to wearing to hide the affects of the chemo was gone and her head was bare. It made her seem vulnerable, as delicate as the finest bone china that would shatter if handled too roughly. Her pretty blonde hair had been her pride and joy and Océane had held her on the only occasion that she had given in and wept for the loss of it. It had been the one and only time, and then Carla had accepted it with resolution and made much of the variety of wigs and scarves that she had found. She had laughed with Océane as she had tried on the more outrageous styles and joked that she had always wanted to be a redhead ... No hair, just a red head.
Océane swallowed down her own grief as she remembered. Carla was the bravest person she had ever known and she owed it to her to be brave too. She swallowed a sob and knelt beside the bed, taking her hand and feeling the shock of how bony and frail it was. The skin was dry and fragile as old newspaper. She took a breath as her friend’s eyelids flickered and she came to.
“Océane?” Carla’s bright blue eyes seemed to have lost their colour somehow, but the sharpness remained nonetheless.
“Hi.”
“Where have you been?” Her voice was weak and raspy but the despair came through loud and clear. “I’ve been so frightened. I thought ... I thought you’d been abducted, murdered!” The delicate hand Océane was holding suddenly grasped hers so tightly it hurt. “Where were you?” she demanded. The anger and fear in her voice was more than Océane could bear and she dissolved into floods of tears that ran down her face unchecked, preventing any kind of explanation as she could barely breathe much less speak.
“I’m so ... so sorry,” she mumbled through the storm of her tears and then there was a soft knock on the door, which opened a crack.
“Océane?”
Carla frowned at the soft male voice behind her bedroom door. “Who’s that?”
Océane sniffed and wiped her eyes and wondered how she would ever be able to explain. How would Carla ever forgive her for this? “Oh, well ...” she stuttered as the tears continued to fall. “Actually they’re ... friends of mine.” The door opened some more and Carla’s eyes widened when she saw Laen and Corin.
“Since when?”
Océane wiped her face on her sleeve. “Ummm ...” she began.
“Get in here!” Carla demanded of the two men who obediently stepped a little way into the cramped bedroom. Carla reached out a skinny arm and turned on the bedside lamp with a snap. If it had been in any other circumstance Océane would have laughed at the expression on Carla’s face as the dim light caught Corin’s gold eyes and shone on the white blond of Laen’s hair. Her eyes travelled over the men at the foot of her bed and for a just a moment she was utterly speechless. It didn’t last. “Holy mother of God,” she said in wonder. “Where did you find them ... Hunks R Us?”
Océane sniffed as her lip trembled. “It’s a long story.”
Carla snorted. “You’d better hurry it up then.”
Océane looked at her friend and felt hot tears sliding down her face. “Oh, Carla.” She buried her head in her hands, quite unable to look her in the face. She sobbed quietly as Carla sat in silence and it wasn’t until she heard male voices that she looked up.
“Laen, no, don’t,” Corin said, his hand grasping Laen’s arm but Laen turned his head, his black eyes wide as they fell on Carla. He turned hurriedly away.
“I ... I cannot.” He wrenched his arm from Corin’s grasp and pushed his way past him and they heard the sound of the front door slamming shut.
Océane gasped, looking at the door he had rushed through in horror. How could he? Even if he didn’t care for her at all ... how could he leave like that? She’d seen the expression of disgust on his face when he’d looked at Carla and fury welled up inside her. So much for giving him a chance. He truly must be disgusted by the human race if he could find no pity or compassion for her friend, her dearest friend who had been dying alone - because of him!
She pulled herself together. She had no time to waste on him now. There would be time enough for her own grief. She took a deep breath, gritting her teeth, and looked up to see Carla watching her.
“So that’s it,” she said, her faded blue eyes shining with hurt and reproach. “You found yourself a man and decided you didn’t have time for me?”
“No!” Océane clutched at her hand. “No, Carla, I swear to you that wasn’t it.”
Carla struggled to sit up in bed, her movements jerky and full of anger. “How was it then?” she demanded before dissolving into a fit of coughing, clutching at her frail chest and gasping for air. She gestured with desperation for the oxygen that was set up beside the bed and Océane went to grab for it, her fingers clumsy with panic as Corin came forward and put his hands on Océane’s shoulders. With a calm smile he manoeuvred her out of the way and sat on the bed beside Carla and took her hand.
Suddenly the coughing stopped as quickly as it had begun and Carla began to breathe easily, her chest rising and falling as she fell back against the pillows. Her friend’s gaze focused once again and moved gradually from the strong hand that was holding onto her so very gently and up to stare at Corin’s golden eyes with awe. Océane took a breath of wonder as she looked on and Carla’s face relaxed, her eyes brightening visibly.
Carla sighed and brought her other hand closer to him, resting it over the one holding hers as a breath of laughter escaped her lips. “What are you?” she whispered. “What is that light? Are ... Are you an angel?”
Corin laughed softly. “No, my dear, very far from it, I’m afraid.”
She sat up, inching forwards like she was moving towards the heat of a fire. “But ... But there’s a light around you, like you’re lit up from the inside. I can see it.”
“It’s magic, Carla. I’m no angel I promise you. I am Fae, not an angel and not human. Not of your world.”
She blinked at him but seemed to accept his words without difficulty. “Do your people all shine like this?”
Corin seemed to hesitate for a moment and his eyes drifted to Océane before he shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, they have magic but ... they do not shine with it.”
Carla smiled, as though she had known the answer all along. “No. You’re special aren’t you?”
Corin didn’t answer, his face passive and this time Carla squeezed his hand. “Sucks huh? Being special?”
He snorted with amusement and nodded. “Yes, in truth it really does suck.”
She sighed and lay back on the pillows, looking at him with a contented smile and keeping a tight hold on his hand. “Can everyone see that?” She gestured vaguely to the light that she seemed to be able to see around him and Corin shook his head.
“No. Usually I ... Well, I hide it from my kind. It would cause problems. Too many questions. I have freed it to ease your pain.”
Carla nodded as though she understood completely and then tilted her head, her expression curious. “Is that why can I see it?” she asked.
“No. Humans cannot usually see it unless they have the gift of sight which is very rare.”
She smiled, intrigued. “You mean they can see your kind, your magic?”
He nodded and a small frown furrowed her forehead. “I can’t though ... I don’t have the sight so ... why?”
Corin lifted her hand very gently and kissed her fingers. “You know why,” he replied and a forlorn smile flickered over her mouth as she nodded.
“Because I’m dying.”
Océane covered her mouth with her hand and tried hard not to break down as Corin covered Carla’s hand between both of his. The smile he returned was sad and lovely. Carla seemed peaceful now though and lifted her arm, touching his face with reverent fingers. “So beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he said and Océane could see tears glittering in his eyes too.
“Am I going to die now?” she asked, just as calmly as though she was asking if it was time for dinner.
He shook his head. “No, not yet. You will see Océane once more, I promise.” He moved forward a little, getting closer to her. “There is no need to be afraid, Carla.” Reaching out he stroked her cheek with his hand and she closed her eyes, leaning into it like a cat moving towards a caress.
“No,” she agreed. “I’m not afraid ... Not now.”
“And now you must get some rest. Océane will come back in the morning and you will feel strong enough to talk to her. Then she will explain everything to you.”
“Will you come too?” she demanded, clutching at his hand. “Please?”
“Yes. Yes, of course I’ll come too. Sweet dreams now, my dear.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek and Océane watched with tears streaming silently down her face as Carla closed her eyes and drifted into sleep with a smile on her lips.
Océane stood sobbing uncontrollably and Corin got up, pulling her against him.
“Don’t worry, my love, now she has seen the truth of us, she will believe you when you tell her what really happened. She will understand that it wasn’t your fault.”
Océane nodded, so grateful to him that she couldn’t find the words, would never be able to find words enough for the kindness he had shown. “Thank you,” was all she could manage through her tears as she clung to him, though it seemed a paltry response for what he had done.
They heard the nurse letting herself back into the flat and Corin took her by the hand and led her out of the bedroom. The nurse went in to check on Carla and exclaimed as she came out. “My goodness, your visit must have done her good. I’ve never seen her sleep so peacefully.”
Océane didn’t reply. She was too numb. She simply stood clutching at Corin’s hand. She felt adrift, like if she let go she would simply disappear, fade away into the dull, grey reality and exist as nothing more than a shadow. Carla was dying. Her best friend, her only friend, would soon be gone and Corin and Laen would return to their world and leave her here and she would be utterly alone. Sorrow and fear and anger wrapped her in their smothering embrace until she could hardly draw breath. The future suddenly looked cold and dark, a bleak reality she didn’t know if she was brave enough to face. It just wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair.