Page 26 of A Sky Painted Gold

“You want something more,” Laurie says evenly, as if she is simply stating a fact.

“Yes,” I say, surprised. “Yes, I do.” I haven’t said it aloud before, and it feels almost like a betrayal of Alice to admit it, but Laurie is forcing me to talk about things I have been afraid to look at too closely. “Is there something more?” I ask, a note of desperation creeping into my voice.

Laurie breaks into peals of unexpected laughter. “Oh, honey.”

“It sounds like I found out where the real party is.” A deep voice interrupts Laurie’s merriment, and I look to see Charlie standing in front of us.

I jump up, and Laurie flings out a graceful hand as though she expects Charlie to prostrate himself at her feet. He settles for squeezing her fingers.

“Hallo, sis,” he says. “I came to see if Lou here wants to take another turn around the dance floor?” he asks with a boyish grin. “Caitlin’s been looking for you too,” he adds.

“Yes, go,” Laurie says. “I’ve monopolized you long enough.”

“Won’t you come with us?” I ask.

Laurie shakes her head. “I think I’ll stay here and see if anyone interesting comes along.” She leans back on the sofa and stretches her arms above her head, a wicked look in her eye. “Though, Charlie, be a lamb, will you, and send someone over with a bottle of whisky?”

“Sure,” Charlie agrees easily, and reaches out to take my hand.

I catch Laurie’s eye.

She winks.

We leave then, and Charlie sets off to find the required bottle of whisky, agreeing to meet me back at the dance floor. I trail through the avenue, thinking over my conversation with Laurie as my fingertips brush against the line of tree trunks. I’m walking past one of the curtained alcoves when I hear Caitlin’s voice.

“Why do you ask me that when you know I can’t?” she cries, and her voice is angry.

A low voice answers, though I can’t make out what it says, and I understand, suddenly, that I’m being impossibly slow, and that she’s in there with a man.

“Why can’t things carry on as they are?” I hear Caitlin say with a brightness that sounds almost desperate.

Again, the response is indistinct, a low, insistent hum.

“Darlllling,” she says, stretching out the word, and her voice lingers in the air, soft and persuasive.

I leap back at the intimacy of her tone. Whatever this is, it is definitely private, and I feel like an intruder. I start to walk away, and Caitlin’s untidy laugh drifts behind, chasing after me through the tree-lined avenue.

I am caught by a couple of people who are keen to know who I am and how I know the Cardews, and I can feel their greedy curiosity like fingers running across my skin. I answer vaguely, politely, but this only seems to increase their interest. By the time I reach the dance floor Charlie is already waiting for me, but the music has stopped.

“The band are taking a break,” he explains. “They’ll be back in a minute. Can I get you a drink?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m fine, thank you,” I say.

Caitlin reappears then, all glittering eyes and flushed cheeks. She’s a girl with a secret, and I wonder if one day she’ll tell me what it is. For now, she grins at us. If I didn’t know better I would think nothing of it, but her grin has that same bright, brittle quality that I heard in her voice earlier, and I’m certain that there’s something anxious behind it. “What are we all standing around for?” she demands. “Where’s the music? Let’s dance!”

And then, as if she’s made it happen with sheer force of will, the band starts playing again and I’m able to lose myself in the music.

I dance all night. In fact, I dance well into the morning. The music is pulsing and insistent, making it impossible for me to walk away. It seems to fill my body with a kind of fierce energy that I can’t ignore, tethering me to the dance floor.

For the rest of the night Caitlin and I are rarely more than a few feet from each other. Like magnets irresistibly drawn together, we spend the evening shouting and laughing over the music. I have never had a close female friend besides Alice. I suppose that with her around I never felt the need to find one – I definitely never experienced any sense that I have been missing out on something important. But now with Caitlin I feel something strange … it’s almost like a crush. I want to be near her, I want to make her laugh, I want to hear her thoughts on … well … everything. I hadn’t realized before tonight that this can happen, that you can fall in love with your friends.

Finally, finally, the party begins winding down. People disappear to find a bed to fall into (alone or together) and the roaring sound of departing motorcars cuts across the music. I am almost asleep on my feet when Caitlin takes pity on me. The band has stopped playing, but music is drifting out of a gramophone, and Caitlin is still whirling around like a spinning top, showing no sign of quieting down at all. Her eyes are unnaturally bright.

“Charlie! Will you show Lou up to her room?” Caitlin catches him by the arm and looks up at him beseechingly.

“I’m fine!” I insist. “I can go on for hours yet.” This statement is unfortunately undercut by a yawn so big that it sets me swaying. Caitlin laughs and twirls off, diving into the small group that seems to have no intention of sleeping ever again.

Someone else is calling Charlie’s name and I see him glancing over in their direction.