In This Skin (18 page)

    She smiled.

    Two minutes later she locked the door that led from the apartments stairwell to the lobby. There was also a pair of bolts. She slid those home, too. From the other side came Noel's muffled voice. ”I'll be back in two hours, tops. Okay?”

    ”Okay.”

    The door was heavy-duty oak with a fan design of narrow strips of glazing in the top third of the door. It gave a sunrise effect when Noel's flashlight caught it on the other side. The radiating glass strips were so narrow and so heavily frosted, she saw nothing of Noel but a blurred pale patch where his face would be. Then it moved away from the door. She heard footsteps recede. In her mind's eye she saw him heading across the lobby through one of the sets of doors into the dance floor, across to the stage, then along the shadowed artery of a passageway to the rear doors, where he'd climb through the busted panel into sunlight. Then he'd be at the car.

    Returning upstairs, she locked the apartment door behind her before moving into the lounge. Ahead of her she could see over the heads of the Egyptian gods that were cemented to the wall just outside the windows.

    God, yes. They had a Sahara desert all their own. Stretching in front of her under the noon sun was the barren waste of the huge parking lot.

    Beyond that, arid service roads linked vast tracts of waterless industrial land. Wavering in the heat haze stood (or half-stood) abandoned warehouses and factories denuded of roofs. Whereas in the desert you might find cattle skulls, here she could see the skeletons of cars torched by joy riders; rust-brown bones baking in the sun. Out in the lot to her right was an old cashier's safe, abandoned long ago after its door had been hacked off by thieves.

    Faintly, she heard the sound of a car's motor. Seconds later, Noel's car appeared around the corner and ran out across that blacktop desert to the access road. She watched him wave from the window and flash the rear lights. A kind of cheery I-won't-be-long farewell. For a moment the conviction struck her that he wouldn't be coming back… a change of heart… a car crash She watched the car dissolve into a shimmering heat haze before dwindling into the distance to vanish completely. She shivered.

    The moment passed, however, as soon as she turned around to see the brightly colored cartons containing kitchen scales, saucepans, kettles and bowls. They'd also paid more than they'd budgeted for on a set of dinner plates and bowls. But they were painted in a beautiful

    Picasso style that would blend perfectly with the sixties decor of the apartment.

    Humming to herself, she began to unpack their purchases. This felt like home. Not for a moment did Robyn fear being left alone in this remote and solitary building.

    

    

    Robyn started work… No, not work, she thought. This is pleasure. I've got the apartment to myself. I can arrange everything in the kitchen cupboards just how I want it. Noel had been gone an hour. Already she'd lost track of time. First she'd made coffee. Then she snapped open the blister pack of batteries and slotted them into the portable CD/radio she'd brought with her from home. The station she punched in at random played upbeat songs, mainly golden oldies; they suited her happy mood.

    Dancing and singing to the music, she unpacked groceries into the larder, having first moved the carton of ancient videotapes into the spare bedroom. The cans they'd use most often she stacked at eye level.

    Above those went pasta, rice, noodles, sugar and salt. On the larder floor she laid the bag of potatoes. Every so often she touched her stomach and made a comment. ”We're going to wipe down the stove now, Junior,”or, ”hang on tight, I'm going to push the sofa back to the wall… uh… come you… ah… there. See, we've got heaps more space now.” She smiled. ”You'll have lots of room to play with your toys.

    And if I turn the armchair this way, we've got a lovely view of outside.

    You can even see the big buildings downtown… Oh, do you hear this song? I heard this on my first date. It was Robbie Veiner in junior high. He took me for a burger in a diner. I thought he was so cool, walking out without paying. He didn't even run. I worshipped him all week for that.” She pulled a duster from the back pocket of her jeans and went to work on the glass shelves. ”Then I heard that Robbie Veiner's mom owned the diner. The magic went out of the relationship after that. But don't you try to impress your mom… or any girl, come to that… by breaking the law”

    She warmed to chatting to the tiny glob of cells in her stomach that was little more than a fertilized egg, the medical term being the spectacular-sounding ”blastocyst.”However, she still preferred ”Junior.”

    Arms, legs and a heartbeat were still weeks away. Robyn eased scatter cushions out of their plastic wrappers and arranged them on the sofa; then she went to hang the new towels in the bathroom.

    ”I hope Noel takes his time driving the car across to college. This is fun. Phew, but hot, too.”Spring sunshine blasted through the windows.

    She opened one a couple of inches. The air outside bore the scent of sun-warmed trees that fringed the bank of the river. When she'd gone to bed (last night they'd collapsed exhausted onto the bare mattress), she'd let thoughts run through her mind in an unchanneled way, so they wove in and out of her plans for the apartment. Suddenly Emerson and Mom belonged to her past. They were ancient history. Even though it was only yesterday that Emerson had begged her to liquidate the trust fund, then struck her when she refused, it could have happened a decade ago.

    By one o'clock, hunger began to needle her stomach. She broke for ten minutes for orange juice and bread spread with a soft yellow butter that they'd bought at the supermarket. Just-baked warmth still clung to the center of the bread, releasing its delicious aroma when she broke it open. You're eating for two now, she thought happily, as she spread butter in a golden layer through the heart of another roll. She ate a whole tomato as if it were an apple, laughing when juice dribbled down her chin. She'd never tasted tomatoes as sweet. Come to that, everything tasted better. Her senses had never been so receptive. Perhaps it was a symptom of pregnancy? Or the pleasure of moving into a home of her own with Noel? Probably a heady cocktail of the two.

    After she'd eaten, she wiped out the cutlery tray in the drawer by the sink, then carefully laid out the knives, forks and spoons in their own distinct compartments. Using kitchen tissue, she polished each item of cutlery in turn until the stainless steel reflected sunlight with the brilliance of laser beams. She couldn't resist setting the table for the meal on Noel's return. She put out the new plates, each flanked by a knife and fork. Carefully she arranged salt and pepper pots, and tumblers for water.

    By midafternoon she'd finished the first phase of her layout plan. Noel had been gone more than two hours. He'd be back any moment. For a while she stood gazing out over the vast open spaces of the parking lot, waiting for a first glimpse of him walking along the service road, which led from the highway where the bus stop was located. He'd be thirsty after walking in this heat. Maybe soon they could find some way of restoring the electricity; they'd be able to use the refrigerator, and even that antique TV as well.

    The heat climbed in the apartment. Most of the window locks had stuck fast due to lack of use. So far, she'd only been able to open one window. Now the swathe of trees that ran alongside the rear of the Luxor looked inviting. She imagined the pleasure she'd draw from strolling through their shade to the river.

    I could sit there for a while. I could probably even find a spot where I can see into the parking lot and check for Noel… poor Noel! Slogging his way back through this heat. Only I promised him I wouldn't leave the apartment.

    But then, we didn't know how stuffy it would get up here.

    What's more, after a cold and windy Chicago winter, the sunlit afternoon begged her to step outside for a while and enjoy. Then, before she could think of any reason why she shouldn't leave the safety of the apartment, she slipped on her shoes, grabbed the new flashlight from the shelf in the kitchen, and headed for the door.

    

    

    Robyn unbolted the apartment door, turned the key, then slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. The door smoothly opened to reveal the flight of stairs down to the next door that separated the accommodation area from the lobby Flicking the switch on the flashlight, she ran downstairs, still humming to herself. This felt like her property now.

    She should buy Ellery something nice for telling them about the apartment.

    He must be our guardian angel in disguise, she thought with a smile as she tugged at the door bolt. Damn! Pain flashed across her knuckle. She must have caught it when she snapped back the bolt. Directing the light to the back of her hand, she saw a gouge in the skin that spanned two knuckles. Even as she watched, the injured skin beaded with blood. A crimson blob trickled down her finger to drip onto the mat. Damn thing.

    She turned the light on the bolt. It had been damaged at some point in the past and a sharp lug of metal protruded from the end of the bolt case. She must have gashed her hand on the flicking thing.

    Ouch. The wound burned, it oozed blood, it stiffened her whole hand.

    Stupid careless thing to do, she thought angrily But I'm not letting it spoil my walk. Tugging a square of clean tissue from her pocket, she folded it into a wad, then pressed it to the wound. After that she took the dustcloth that dangled from her back pocket and wrapped it around both the pad and her hand in a DIY bandage. There… it would have to do. Bunching her right hand into a fist to hold the dustcloth in place, she gripped the flashlight between her chin and collarbone and unlocked the door with her good hand. After some maneuvering using a foot and elbow, she opened the door. Once through it, she found herself in the lobby.

    ”Wow, groovy, groovy place.”Robyn swept the walls with light. The Egyptian theme extended inside here, too. Molded faces of pharaohs, beautiful princesses and gods bulged from the walls. On a gold pillar was more hieroglyph decoration, while burning down from the ceiling was that distinctive Egyptian eye with the swirling lines curling around it.

    It had been painted onto a huge gold disk that must have been fully fifteen feet in diameter.

    ”Oh, I get it,”she murmured. ”The eye of Ra… the sun god looking down.”

    Now the buzz came. She wanted to explore. After all, this was home now.

    And that was a good feeling-a good, good feeling. Robyn checked out the ticket office. There were brass slots in the desk that would have once dispensed tickets. The wooden cashier's drawer was still there with compartments for dollar bills and all denominations of change. The wood had turned dark and shiny after decades of use.

    Moving quickly she pushed through the heavy twin doors into the dance hall-a vast cave of a place. Here the sound of her footsteps was altered by its dimensions. The pat-pat-pat of her feet on bare wood vanished into the colossal space above her head. Shining the light around, she saw the walls here were bare of decoration. There were no windows. The main features were the stage and the ironwork of the lighting gantry that ran from beneath the ceiling out to the stage in the shape of a T.

    There were more steel rails at either side of the gantry's walkway that would have accommodated stage lights, although the lights themselves were long gone now.

    Robyn panned the instrument as if it were a searchlight. The light rays were tightly focused so they'd carry a long distance, but they only lit a small area. Outside of that, darkness buried everything else. She paused for a moment. All she could hear now was the sound of her breathing. Silence dominated the Luxor as powerfully as the absence of light.

    A casket of silence and shadow, she thought. That's what it amounts to.

    The walls hold all this dark as if it's water in a tank. Just a few feet away, beyond that membrane of brickwork, would be brilliant sunshine.

    The thought prompted her to walk toward the stage. In a few seconds she could pass through the backstage area, down the passageway, then out through the broken door. She quickened her step, but she forgot about her makeshift bandage; it unraveled itself, ditching the wad of tissue on the floor. Damn. The wound still bled. Now that her mind turned back to it she realized how much the ripped skin hurt, too. It felt like someone had lit a fire in the gash. Shoot, we never even bought painkillers this morning.

    Once more she tugged clean tissue from her pocket and tried to fix the duster-turned-bandage so it wrapped around her fist. There in the middle of the dance floor with the flashlight in her other hand, it was awkward. Glancing around, she noticed the old armchair going solo on the dance floor. Of course, it was part of the suite from the apartment. Had Ellery brought it down here for some reason? Not that it mattered now.

    What mattered was that it was a place to sit while she wound the duster around her hand again. She could even rest the flashlight on the chair's arm so it shone on her hands as she worked.

    Robyn sat down on the armchair, sinking deep into its soft cushion.

    Deciding not to risk knocking the flashlight off the chair arm, she rested it across her lap, then leaned to one side with her hands outstretched so they caught the wash of light spraying from the lens.

    Now it was easy to position the pad of tissue over the cut, then wrap the duster around her hand. There. Fm fixed. Even so, the wound throbbed. It hurt when she tried to move her fingers. Maybe if she sat here a little while it would ease. The pain sickened her. That butterfly flutter sprang up in her stomach again. She ran her fingers just below her navel.