From Another Place Ch. 04

I felt a jolt of triumph, and Marie raised her eyebrows. "OK -- you're the boss. Take a look at what I do with Amy, and see if any of the colours or techniques grab you."

She turned back to me. "So, I'll start with the nail polish."

She picked up a bottle, its tint dark, almost burnt. Sally watched as Marie knelt before me, cupping the sole of each foot in her hand as she applied the polish.

Marie straightened, and took my hand. "I don't even need to do anything to your nails before I start," she said, "they're perfect."

She started to coat my nails, and I relaxed, enjoying the sensation of the slick dark fluid, almost like crude oil. First one hand, then the other, and she stepped back. "Just a minute for that to dry."

She put the top back on the bottle. "So, is this for a special occasion?"

Sally glanced at me. "Dad didn't say, but maybe he'll let us go out tonight."

I grinned. "I like the sound of that. I bet I could find us somewhere..."

Marie glanced from Sally to me. "Well, I'll do my best to make you two stand out, wherever you end up."

She picked up a bottle, and started to apply the foundation to my skin, the liquid gliding on smoothly.

I saw Sally watching, fascinated, as Marie continued to transform me, moving from colour to mascara to eye shadow. She stepped back, and nodded. "One last thing."

She ran her finger along the tubes of lip gloss. "Can't improve on a classic."

She picked up the tube she'd chosen, and carefully coated my lips with the deep crimson. "There."

She moved aside to let me look in the mirror, and I made a satisfied noise deep in my throat.

Marie turned to Sally. "Now you're sure you want to look so different?"

Sally nodded.

"OK," said Marie. "It will need to be a little more conventional, given your colouring, but trust me, you'll still turn heads."

She looked at the selection of nail polish. "Something that'll contrast with Amy's."

She picked up a bottle and held it against Sally's skin. "Yes, this one."

She knelt again, painting Sally's toenails with the pale blue tint.

"I like it," said Sally. Marie took her hands, and said, "Just a little work on the cuticles and a touch with the file, these'll be fine."

She worked on Sally's nails, then wiped them with a faintly scented lotion.

Sally watched as Marie brushed the polish on smoothly, then she leaned back, closing her eyes, to let the glistening liquid dry.

Marie started with a lighter foundation on Sally's skin, then added colour, moving on to blue tones in the eye shadow, a hint of sparkle. Mascara emphasised Sally's lashes, and a dark pencil sharpened her brows.

"Now for your lips," she mused. She stepped back, and nodded.

She picked up a tube of gloss. "Not quite so dramatic as Amy's, but trust me, in contrast to the shades I've used elsewhere, this dark red will have quite an effect."

She coated Sally's lips, and moved aside.

"Wow," breathed Sally. "I look really different, don't I."

I grinned. "Now we just have to find out if you get the effect you wanted."

I thought for a moment. "If Tim does let us go out, we'll need to decide what to wear."

Sally smiled. "I have a red dress Dad bought me for the autumn ball at college -- it'll go perfectly with your makeup. I went shopping a couple of weeks ago, and found a blue silk dress in the sales. I think it'll suit what Marie's done with me."

I nodded. "Sounds great."

We thanked Marie, and walked out to the reception area. Tim and his golfing companion were just coming through the door, and I relished the expression on their faces as they caught sight of us approaching.

"That's... quite stunning," said Tim, looking at his daughter with a thoughtful expression.

She smiled. "I'm glad you're impressed. How did the golf go this afternoon?" I waited, expecting Tim to look embarrassed, but instead Bob Marshall spoke. "It was a close thing -- your father beat me by one stroke on the last hole. I hooked my first shot in to the rough on the tenth, and I was a couple of shots behind for most of the round from then on."

He turned to Tim with a grin. "Proves you're not one of these bootlickers who lets the client win every time -- I like that."

I suppressed my frustration, conceding another loss, and waited for Sally to float her idea about the evening.

I didn't have to wait long. "Dad," said Sally sweetly, "seeing as Amy and I have put so much effort into looking amazing, would you... could we go out this evening, just the two of us?"

Tim's face betrayed his reservations, but Bob clapped him on the shoulder and boomed, "Of course they should go, Tim. Everyone needs to let their hair down once in a while."

"We'll be careful, Dad," Sally said earnestly. "You can drop us in town, and we'll phone a taxi from one of the big firms to bring us back."

"OK," said Tim. "I guess the two of you should be able to look after each other."

"Yay!" said Sally, kissing him on the cheek and throwing me a delighted look. "Come on, then, Dad, we need to get back and change."

"Bye then, Bob," said Tim. "I'll call you on Monday to talk about those details."

We walked back to the car, and again Sally and I sat in the back seat while Tim drove us home. We dashed upstairs and changed, Sally grinning broadly when she looked in the mirror.

"See, Amy, my dress goes perfectly with these shades."

She looked at me. "You look amazing -- kind of sexy-scary, if you know what I mean."

I grinned. "That's the plan."

We went downstairs, and again I watched Tim's reaction.

"Fantastic," he said. "Just remember, stick together."

"Yes, Dad," Sally said dutifully.

We got in the car, and Tim set off in the direction of the city centre. "This is just like when you were at home, Sally," he teased. "Dad's taxi."

He pulled up outside a smart club in a brightly-lit street. "I think this place has a reputation for being safe."

Sally glanced up. "Might be a bit expensive?"

Tim reached into his jacket pocket. "Here -- don't want you having to accept drinks from strangers."

Sally grinned, and carefully folded the notes, putting them in her purse. She leaned over to kiss Tim on the cheek. "Thanks, Dad."

We stepped out of the car. "Have a good time," said Tim, then he was gone.

Sally glanced at me, hesitation mixed with an unmistakeable hint of rebellion in her expression. "Here? Or somewhere a bit more interesting?" I grinned, and reached out my awareness to a group of provocatively-dressed young women walking by, lifting their destination from their minds. "I know a place."

We walked away from the brightly-lit club, turning down a side street, and I smiled to myself as I recognised the seedy locality where I'd first arrived in the city.

"Here," I said, turning in through battered double doors. The atmosphere inside was smoky, and the music had a trance-like, hypnotic quality.

I glanced at Sally, seeing a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty on her face. "Come on -- I'll get us some drinks."

She reached in her purse, but I said, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

I walked up to the bar, catching the barman's attention. "Bloody Mary for me, heavy on the Worcester sauce, and for my friend here, a Blue Hawaii."

The barman grinned. "Nice to see someone who knows their drinks."

He poured my Bloody Mary, then Sally watched with delight as he mixed her cocktail in a shaker, pouring the blue liquid over ice and finishing it with a flower at the edge of the glass.

I reached into his mind, giving just the slightest of nudges, and his eyes lost focus for a moment. "Thanks, ladies -- enjoy your drinks."

He turned to serve another customer, and Sally glanced at me, puzzled.

I grinned. "First one's free for the girls -- encourages us to stay."

"But..." She shook her head, dismissing the thought, and took a sip of her drink. "Mmm, this is nice. Pineapple, coconut?"

I nodded. "And a blue liqueur for the colour." I didn't draw her attention to the liberal dash of rum.

I sipped at my Bloody Mary, enjoying the heat of the peppery sauce, and looked around. "There's a table."

We sat down, and I could see Sally relaxing. "This is OK."

I opened my senses to the mental chatter in the dimly-lit space, enjoying the undercurrents -- desire, guilt, disillusion.

I glanced across at Sally, and she returned my look. "Can we dance?" she asked.

"Definitely," I said. We got to our feet, and I concentrated for a moment, ensuring that anyone tempted to occupy our table would feel a vague but irresistible sense of unease.

We walked to the dance floor, and I watched slightly surprised as Sally gave herself over to the music, closing her eyes and swaying with the rhythm, moving her arms sinuously.

After a few minutes, the track changed, and Sally said, "That was great -- I really got into it -- but I think I need to cool down for a minute or two, get some fresh air."

Before I could answer, she started to make her way purposefully in the direction of the exit. I went back to our table to pick up my wrap, then walked towards the door, but before I reached it, I felt a stab of utter terror from Sally's mind.

I forced my way through the people in my path, ignoring their irritated looks, and stepped out into the street. I followed the unmistakeable trace of Sally's mind, turning into a narrow alley beside the club.

At the far end of the alley, Sally stood with her back to the fence, confronted by two men. "Don't be scared, darling," sneered one, "stick with us and we'll make sure you have a real nice time tonight."

I could see the fear on Sally's face, but she managed to speak, defiance in her voice. "Don't you dare touch me."

I moved round the corner, and positioned myself between Sally and the two men. "Trust me, this isn't your lucky day," I told them.

The one who'd spoken glanced at his companion. "Say, Jed, this one looks real interesting -- more spirit to her than the other one. Guess now we don't have to share..."

I turned my back to Sally, and for a brief moment let them see me in my true form, the awful reality of which my makeup was only the merest suggestion.

Seconds later they were running as if the hounds of hell were behind them. I went to Sally, taking her hands in mine. "Are you OK?"

She nodded shakily. "Amy, I was so frightened."

She hesitated. "They ran away?"

I thought rapidly, and put an edge of fear into my own voice. "I... Sally, I pulled a gun on them. I have it for work, I'm not supposed to carry it when I'm off duty."

I looked around. "I don't think they'll be back, but we'd better get out of here." Sally nodded, forcing a smile. "I didn't get to finish my drink," she said.

I took her arm, and we walked back to the main street, hailing a taxi. I gave Tim's address, and the driver moved off.

I felt Sally relax, and I had time again for my own thoughts. A huge sense of disbelief began to overwhelm me. Without any real effort, I'd brought Sally into a situation where any one of a dozen things could have happened -- violence, a plausible but predatory stranger slipping a date-rape drug into her drink, or just a meaningless encounter leaving her feeling tainted. She'd even walked away from me by her own choice, into a situation that had only one possible outcome.

And I'd thrown it away. My easy chance to destroy Tim's contentment at a stroke, to give him something -- on top of the grief he already bore -- to resent, wrap his bitterness around, torture himself with.

I shook my head. No time for regrets, only results. I'd have to salvage the situation, try to keep what I could, and hope for another chance.

I turned to Sally. "I'm really sorry," I began. "I should never have taken us to that place, I was stupid. I just wanted to show off, prove how into everything I was."

I hesitated. "Please don't tell Tim. I promise I'll never do anything like that again."

Sally put her hand on mine. "It's OK," she said. "It's partly my fault -- I wanted to see what it was like, to do something I knew Dad would really be freaked out by."

She looked at me anxiously. "You don't think you'll get into trouble? You know, threatening them with --" she glanced at the cab driver -- "that?"

I shook my head. "I can't imagine them telling anyone, and anyway, how would they recognise us, even if they knew where to look."

Sally squeezed my hand. "OK."

The taxi pulled up at the bottom of Tim's drive, and Sally fumbled in her purse for the fare. "Keep the change," she said.

The driver smiled, looking at the notes in his hand. "Thank you, miss. You take care now."

Sally took my arm as we walked up the drive. She pulled out her key and turned it in the lock. As we walked into the hall, Tim appeared from the living room.

"You're back early," he said. "Is everything OK?"

"Fine," smiled Sally. "We just had one drink and danced a little."

She turned to me. "That cocktail was really nice, Amy -- perhaps we could get Dad to make it for us."

"What was it?" asked Tim.

"A Blue Hawaii. With a flower and everything," grinned Sally.

Tim nodded. "Makes sense -- you liking pineapple and all. I'll pick up a bottle of blue curacao next time I go shopping."

Sally suppressed a yawn, and I knew the shock was catching up on her.

"Come on," I grinned. "Can't go to sleep till we've got our makeup off." We went upstairs, and helped each other unzip our dresses and hang them carefully back in Sally's wardrobe.

"I've got some cream that's supposed to be really good for getting makeup off," said Sally. She went through into the en suite, returning with a tub and a stack of cotton wool pads.

"I'll do you first," I said, taking a pad and liberally covering it with the cream. Sally's makeup came off easily, and I made sure I got every trace, using a final pad to cleanse her neck and throat where Marie had carried the foundation down.

Sally looked in the mirror, and smiled wistfully. "I still have the nail polish for a day or so, anyway."

She turned to me. "OK, your turn."

She began to wipe off my makeup, and as her hands moved gently, almost tenderly, I realised I was fighting not to be touched by the affection and friendship I could sense filling her mind.

I made a mental gesture as though to push away something irrelevant. Sally finished her task, and smiled at me. "Back to your usual self."

Was I? I wondered. I found myself trying to remember what it had been like before -- before the falling, the darkness, then the almost unbearable heat. The force I'd felt taking hold of me, transforming me, somehow turning my lightness into what I was now, needing the heat, craving the flavour of everything dark, bitter...

"Amy?" I heard Sally's voice. "Are you OK?"

I wrenched myself back to the present. "Sure. I'm just a little tired."

Sally smiled. "Well, you can take first turn in the bathroom. I don't mind if you're asleep when I come out."

I went through to the bathroom, grateful for a moment by myself. I quickly shifted into the long t-shirt Sally expected me to wear for sleeping, and remembered to flush the toilet, rinsing the last traces of the cream from my fingers.

I went back out, and Sally slipped past me, smiling. I lay down in the bed, and closed my eyes.

A few minutes later I heard Sally return, and felt her slip in beside me.

"Amy?" she whispered.

"Mmm?" I feigned a sleepy response.

I felt her hesitate. "Thanks for today. The fun parts were fun, and... thanks for what you did in the other parts."

I nodded. "Thanks, Sally. Sleep tight."

I felt her hand touch my shoulder, then she settled into the pillow, closing her eyes.