Almost the first thing that Francesca asks me, when I tell her and Holly about my plans for David, is, “Why are you asking us about a polo match? You know someone much better.”
She is absolutely right, and I could have smacked myself in the forehead if it wouldn't have messed up my makeup. I reach for my phone. Getting hold of my godfather is usually a bit hit or miss. He's a very busy man with a lot of responsibilities. Rather than call him, I send a text: Call me when you're free, after 10pm or before 2pm.
The three of us discuss things over our sandwiches anyway, but can't come up with anything except 'ride better than he does,' which rather depends on being able to ride
Frost's misery is a cloud hanging over me when we realise that the scent is an old one. Our Mate can't be a new student, if she’d been at the exhibition today the smell would be stronger. Now? Even if it was safe to shift to the wolf, it's probably impossible to track the scent outside the building. There's been too many people passing by. Dejectedly I traipse down to the accommodation charity next door. They have a sign-up list for students looking for room mates. I wince at the reminded of fresh disappointment, and add my name and contact details without much hope. “I guess there isn't anywhere I can be on my own?” The two ladies in the charity office glance at each other. “It depends how much money you have and how bad an area you want to risk living in,” one answers. “Uh...
The telephone call with Rupert reminds me that I haven't spoken with my family for some time. We usually call about once a week. Toby is in Bolivia, and Oliver is usually filming on location for at least six months of the year, but everyone else is based at Blackmarsh- Tony and Katie, Timothy (who is two years younger than Oliver and I), Dhriti and Jasmit, Nicholas and Nathaniel. Toby and I, Dhriti and Jasmit are all adopted. Dhriti and Jasmit were best friends already, before Tony and Katie came into their lives. Both are fourteen now, and both want to be dancers. Or gymnasts. Or Cirque du Soliel performers. I think they might do well in musicals, the sort with a lot of dancing, they are both very good singers. Nick and Nat are twins, both eleven and both currently claiming they will be soccer players when they grow up. I suspect they will end up doing something with horses instead. Lik
The studio apartment is tiny, with barely enough room to turn around. It's not filthy, but it's not been painted in several years from the looks of it. The bed is a futon that doubles as a lounger in the daytime. There's an under-the-counter refrigerator with a microwave and electric kettle on top, a two-ring gas hob on top of a small oven that doubles as a grill, and a tiny sink over a cupboard. There's a coffee table, but it's wedged against the wall at the end of the futon. The corner of the room has been boxed off, with a door. When I open the door I find a toilet, a shower and a narrow floor-to-ceiling cupboard. That's already more cupboard space than I have stuff to fill it with. The ceiling slopes, and the single window is set into it. Through the clouded, algae-edged glass I can see a pale sky crisscrossed with aircraft con trails. Mr Shouty, who is indeed the Mr Patel I was hopi
The second date, as promised, is to the pub up the road which had paintings for sale. It comes a little too soon for my tastes, but when you work the hours we do you learn to grab opportunities when they come. Holly has really made an effort, with a peacock blue trouser suit that makes his rear view look amazing. Apparently he doesn't do casual. He's managed to find nail varnish that matches exactly. The man must spend half his life shopping for nail polish!I feel a little underdressed beside him, although I know my dark green shawl top complements my skin. I've gone for matching wedge hightops instead of more formal shoes. I've left my hair loose as well and it is bouncing in a glossy, crinkly cloud around my head. Holly stares. Maybe he's never seen me without my hair up.He gallantly holds the door open for me, which could start t
I realise within moments that I have taken on too much. This is no fledgling. He's brutal, merciless and well trained. We're both moving faster than a human eye could follow as we trade attacks. In only a few seconds he's knocked me flat among the garbage littering the alley, leaping forwards after me, lunging for my neck with his fangs. As his weight knocks the breath from me, he recoils.There really was a lot of garlic in those kebabs.It gives me a fraction of a chance to get away and in desperation I roll away from him. My scrabbling hands find a broken wooden chair. My first swing misses, and more attacks from my foe have me reeling until I finally connect. The chair smashes. I know exactly what to do with the broken leg that I am left clutching in my claws, and the vamp
I'm home, the rest of the journey having passed in a blur. The flat looks perfectly normal, although I switch on all the lights to help dispel my mental shadows. There's no Bellmouth, which comes as a comfort because it means the danger really is over.The phone calls begin as soon as I remember to switch my mobile back on, because everyone in the family hears Bellmouth when he bays a warning. Rupert too, and even a few of his bodyguard, the ones who have been there since Blackmarsh decided that Rupert was One Of Us and have seen and accepted all the associated weirdness.
Paul and I take only a few steps before Mark stops us and sends one of his companions to get a car. I am embarrassed at how pathetically grateful I am not to having to walk. It's only a short trip, no more than a couple of minutes. Goldhawk territory looks no different to the streets we have been driving through. That has to be intentional. It's sensible to blend in. Mark points out the pack tags spray-painted onto walls along with other random graffiti, marking the territory boundaries, which is helpful. Rather than being shown straight to the Alpha, I'm given the chance to shower and patch up my injuries. Mark has someone find me a change of clothes. Goldhawk hospitality is getting a five star rati
It is both reassuring and disconcerting to return to the normality of rehearsal and performance. I even find David's casual