Page 69 of A Sky Painted Gold

“Happy birthday, honey,” she says, and then she sashays out of the room.

Elodie follows behind her. “Remember, Lou … tonight, you are bold!” she calls over her shoulder. “Tonight is yours!”

There are butterflies in my stomach. I am flooded with anticipation. It feels as though something extraordinary is going to happen tonight, and the fact that this night may be one of my last here gives it a charged, reckless feeling. “You should go and get ready too,” I say to Caitlin.

“Oh, it won’t take me long,” she says, and her hands flutter by her sides.

I give her a look, the look of someone who knows precisely how long it takes her to get ready, thanks to much experience.

“Fine, fine.” She laughs brightly. “But I’ll be straight back, you’ll see … tonight is all about you.”

“I already feel completely, utterly spoilt,” I say honestly.

“Good.” Caitlin lifts her chin, a satisfied look on her face. “Then my plan is working. See you in a minute.” She slips from the room, leaving me alone.

I look at my reflection in the mirror again, and lift my hand to my hair, tugging on one of my curls and watching it fall magically back into place. What will Alice say? I can’t wait to show her. Then, like a kick in the gut, I remember our fight and tears prick my eyes. I look around the room. Alice was right about one thing, I realize – all of this will soon be coming to an end.

I stand and move to the bed where my beautiful dress lies, the green silk flowing across the sheets. Taking my time, I strip off to the pale pink slip and underwear that Madame Carradice insisted on and slide the dress over my head. It fits perfectly, of course. The silk whispers against my skin, and it is so light that it feels almost indecent – as though I am wearing nothing at all. I clip the train to my left shoulder, and it spills down my back, falling almost to the floor.

Taking a deep breath, I stand in front of the mirror. It is the perfect dress for a sea sprite. It is the perfect dress for me. It ripples and shimmers when I move and the colour is amazing – it brings out the tiny bit of red in my hair, and the gold in my skin. Unlike the experience of wearing the beautiful dress in London, this time I don’t feel like I’m pretending to be someone else. It’s ironic, I suppose, when dressing for a masquerade, but I realize that I don’t need to pretend. I am someone. I notice then that there have been no shoes included with my costume, but this time I know that only bare feet will work.

And just then Caitlin bursts back through the door like a whirling dervish, true to her word for once about getting ready with great speed. She wears an incredible short, navy-blue dress embroidered with large silver stars and with silver fringe around the bottom that trembles as she moves. Silver stars are pinned in her hair and silver bangles jangle on both her wrists.

“Oh my God!” she squeals, and she claps her hands together, setting the bangles ringing. “You look amazing!”

“So do you,” I say, as Caitlin continues to run an approving eye over me, but the truth is she looks a little pale, a little drawn. She is certainly too thin now, and her cheeks are hollow, her shoulder blades visible beneath the blue straps on her dress. Was Lucky right? Is she burning away? I turn to face her, but her eyes show nothing but girlish delight over two beautiful dresses. I want to help her, but I don’t know how.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask, my hand on her arm.

Caitlin says nothing, but I notice there are violet shadows under her eyes.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” I say quietly. “It’s a masked party. No one will miss us. We can stay up here and talk.”

Caitlin’s face softens. “You’d miss your own party?” she asks.

“Of course,” I say firmly, although if I’m completely honest I do feel a tingle of disappointment.

“You’re so sweet.” Caitlin takes my hand in hers and squeezes it. “But, honestly, what I need right now is a distraction. I don’t want to be sad. I want to be happy, I want to dance and to forget my troubles. Let’s have a wonderful time … please, Lou?” She looks at me with pleading eyes.

“If that’s really what you want…” I say uncertainly.

“It is.” Caitlin is vehement. “I promise it is.”

“OK,” I say, and I can’t help feeling a little relieved. I know it’s selfish, but if Caitlin wants to dance and be happy rather than dwell too much on the future, then who am I to judge? It’s an instinct that I understand completely.

“If Charlie Miller doesn’t kiss you tonight then the man is an idiot.” Caitlin is gleeful as she gives me another look. “And Robert will be very pleased too, I should think.”

Something in the way she says it makes my insides squirm.

“Now, sit down,” she commands, “and I’ll just quickly do our faces.” She dusts my cheeks with something sparkling, lines my eyes with smoky make-up and paints my mouth the warm red of a ripe apple, before turning her attention to her own face. “Oh, drat,” she says. “I’ve left my lipstick in my room, it’s a darker red than this. Will you be a darling and fetch it? It’s in the gold tube on my dresser.”

“Of course,” I say, leaving her sitting in front of the mirror, blackening her lashes.

Stepping out on to the landing I can hear the sound of the band warming up and the chatter of guests already arriving below, and my stomach flutters with anticipation. I rush down the corridor towards Caitlin’s room just as someone emerges from one of the doors to the right, and I collide with a broad chest in a white shirt.

“Oof,” a voice exclaims in surprise.

I take a hasty step back. It is Robert.