Gravitate

by Jo Duchemin

  “It’ll give Ben a chance to get his little camera angles worked out.” Donna acknowledged Ben, who was setting up a tripod in the far corner of the theatre. I glanced over to him and, behind Donna’s back, he made a mime of strangling her. I managed the briefest of smiles for him. He really was a nice guy. Maybe I wasn’t an angel of destiny, but I reckoned I could manage a little matchmaking of my own. I had just the girl for him in mind.

  “Could I have the backing track for ‘His Shining Star’ please, Donna?” I acted the sweetest smile I could manage.

  “I’d rather hear you do ‘Starlet’ as it is your weakest number.”

  “That’s fine, thank you, Donna.” I didn’t care what I sang, as long as it filled up some time. The familiar track started and I performed, pretending that my broken heart was only a part of the act. I had tears streaming down my face by the end of the song. I could almost feel Marty’s gaze. I was sure he’d been watching at that moment.

  “That was a bit melodramatic. Rein it in. Let’s try another song.” Donna put on the backing track to ‘In The Spotlight’, which I was relieved she picked – it was the lightest song my character sang and, even without the chorus girls to support me, I could attempt to disguise my own unhappiness. The song was a mask to protect me.

  “It lacked energy. Ben, that number has a lot of other dancers in it, so feel free to focus on any of the other girls to avoid highlighting Claudia’s inept attempts to dance.”

  “There’s a girl called Sofia who is a fabulous dancer,” I suggested. “She’s very sexy! I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you featuring close ups of her.” My matchmaking operation was up and running.

  “He doesn’t need your help, Claudia. Save your voice, it sounds strained already,” Donna sounded dismissive, but I was sure Ben would take notice of my suggestion.

  A few other students had turned up now and Donna asked one of them to rehearse a different song. I sat with Ben while he jotted down notes and diagrams on sheets of paper. My eyes darted up to the ceiling, glancing at the stage lights with a shudder, remembering how it felt to float through the roof with Marty. The memory made me sad again, but looking up at the ceiling also helped me avoid crying – I’d read somewhere that looking up stopped tears from leaving your eyes. At the rate I was going, I’d be spending most of my life looking at the sky. Perhaps I’d see Marty in the clouds staring back at me one day.

  Sofia arrived, her cheeks flushed from the cold outside, wearing earmuffs and a matching scarf. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled up into a bun. I waved and she headed over to where I was sitting. I nudged Ben with my elbow, pointing out Sofia as she made her way to the seat I had saved for her, managing to look elegant while taking off her earmuffs and scarf. Her timing was impeccable, arriving just as the song being performed on stage finished, allowing us to talk freely.

  She smiled brightly. “Good morning, ready for another fun packed rehearsal?”

  “Always,” I replied, trying to create a happy façade to assist my matchmaking plan, knowing that telling her about my romantic woes would not help make either Sofia or Ben feel motivated to flirt. “Sofia, this is Ben, he’s going to be filming the show. I told him what a fabulous dancer you are.”

  “Really? Thanks, honey. Hi, how are you doing?” She held out her hand to Ben and he shook it firmly, returning her sunny smile with a dazzling beam of his own. My heart gave the slightest flutter of joy. Marty had been right, it felt great to bring people together.

  “I’m doing as well as can be expected for someone who has to work with your director!” Ben joked. Sofia gave a tinkling laugh, throwing her head back slightly.

  “Claudia, we need you on the stage for ‘This Precious Secret’, as soon as you can tear yourself away from your friends,” Donna’s voice interrupted operation matchmaker and I rolled my eyes at Sofia.

  “Keep my seat warm, Sofia.” I felt smug in forcing them to sit together. She immediately sat in the seat, crossing her legs towards Ben and I saw his body shift to echo her movements.

  I acted through the scene as though in a dream, trying desperately not to remember the way Marty had sung the song to me in the kitchen, trying to ignore the way my skin tingled involuntarily. I felt like I needed to hold my breath until the song was finished, that if I let the music into my lungs, I might never be able to fight off my memories. My attempt to stop recalling the intimate scene in the kitchen was useless. Every note swept in a tiny detail – the beautiful, whispering voice Marty sang in, the soft caress of his lips on my neck as he sang in my ear, the warmth of our bodies pressed together in close contact. To my immense relief, the song ended, and without commenting on the performance, Donna moved on to a different number which didn’t feature me. I left the auditorium, needing some cool air – needing to escape my emotions.

  A strong wind was stirring up the snowflakes lying on the paving, giving a misty edge to the ground. I found a little wall, wiped the snow off the top of it with my bare hands and sat down, pressing my cold, wet hands to my face to try to remove the crimson blushing that I knew would be there. I regretted not bringing my coat out with me – it was freezing, but I wasn’t yet ready to return to the theatre.

  “Claudia?”

  I removed my hands from my face and saw my coat being held in front of me, Sofia dangling it. I gratefully took it and wrapped it around myself. She motioned to the wall next to me and I nodded. She brushed the snow off and sat down. She held out a tissue to me and I realised I’d been crying again. If I carried on like this I was going to end up drowning everyone around me.

  “Thanks,” I choked out. “Are we needed inside?”

  “Not yet, she’s called a break. You’re safe for a few minutes.” Her eyes tried to make contact with mine, but I just stared up at the clouds.

  “Cool.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Ben told me about the guy, Marty. You told me you were just friends. Why?” She didn’t sound upset, just curious. I faced her.

  “We were worried about what people would think.” It was the truth, I just didn’t mention that the people we were worried about were angels.

  “Because of the age difference? He was only a few years older than you.”

  “He was living with me. We didn’t want people to think he was taking advantage of me.” I hoped she would leave it at that.

  “And now he’s gone.”

  “Yes. He had to. I think it makes it worse that I know he wanted to stay with me, but he really had no choice. It would be easier if I could hate him.”

  “But you still love him.” It was a statement, an observation, not a question.

  “With all my heart.”

  “Was it worth it?” She sounded genuinely concerned for me and I was even more determined to try to play Cupid. She was a nice girl and she deserved a nice guy.

  “Love is always worth it. Anyway, enough of my teenage angst. What do you think of Ben?” I acted a smile and, even though I knew she could see through my mask, she kindly accompanied me on my change of subject.

  “He’s gorgeous! Such a sweet man, he’s worried about you. He sent me out to bring you your jacket.” Her eyes sparkled as she talked about him.

  “I think he fancies you. You’d make a great couple.” I didn’t have the energy for subtlety.

  “You do?” Sofia sounded pleased.

  “Definitely. Should we head back inside? Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

  “Babe, you’ve looked like you’ve been crying all morning. Everyone just thinks you’re either still in shock from the stage light, or you’ve really got in character today. They either feel sorry for you or insanely jealous of your method acting.” She had such a lovely way of speaking the truth without making me feel bad. I tried my hardest to manage a smile for her.

  “I think I’m taking suffering for my art a little bit too seriously, then.”

&n
bsp; I was needed on stage for the rest of the rehearsal, which at least kept me busy. Every few minutes, I would glance up at Ben and Sofia, and get a feeling of accomplishment. It was a good match.

  Donna called an early finish to the rehearsal, as the snow was starting to fall again. It was getting dark and she felt everyone should head for home while they would still be able to get there.

  “Listen, people. It’s beginning to snow and the last thing I want is to be stuck here with you lot.” Donna’s statement was met with agreement from the rest of us – we didn’t want to be stuck with her, either. “The weather forecast predicts further snow overnight, so I will cancel tomorrow’s rehearsal now.” My heart sank – no rehearsal meant I would be in the house on my own, with no distraction from my loneliness.

  “Claudia, Ben and I were thinking of going to the pub for a quick drink, did you want to join us?” Sofia, always so friendly, was asking. I shook my head.

  “You guys go, and have fun. I’ve got a headache, I’m just going to go home and get some rest. Text me later, though.” I gave them both a hug and trudged home, alone, in the snow.

  The house was silent and cold. I turned on every light, put the central heating on and lit the fire. I couldn’t get warm. Without bothering to eat, I laid on the sofa in the living room. Whilst staring at the fire, I wished with all my being to speak to Marty and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 18

  I could hear him. His voice sounded as beautiful as ever, but it sounded shocked, surprised.

  “Claudia? Is that you?”

  I tried to speak back to him, but I couldn’t find my voice. My eyes glanced around, sure he was in the room with me. Nothing. Just a dream.

  I ached for him. Even just to talk to him would bring me so much comfort. I longed to find out how he was coping. I allowed myself the merest hint of a smile, as I imagined telling him about my matchmaking activities.

  I had an overwhelming urge to try to contact him. When he’d told me that angels could contact each other by forcing themselves to faint, I doubt he ever thought I would actually try to see him in that way. I wanted to try. I knew it was a long shot. Even if I managed to get to the clouds, I might not even find him. The possibility of seeing George no longer scared me. Not trying scared me more. What was the worst they could do? Send me back here again? Then I’d lost nothing.

  I knew Marty was depending on me to try to move on, but I just couldn’t resist trying to see him. I knew he’d forgive me anything. I knew if the situation were reversed, he’d move heaven and earth to be able to spend time with me.

  I recalled all the things Marty had done to try to avoid me fainting – making sure I ate regularly seemed to be key. I hadn’t eaten a morsel for hours, so that part of the plan was already in place. I remembered seeing a programme on the telly, years ago, where some girl was in hospital being fitted for a back brace and they had to train her to be able to stand for half an hour without fainting – the first time they’d tried it she passed out after standing still for ten minutes. I formulated a plan in my head. I threw another newspaper on the fire to make it blaze. I pulled the seat cushions off of the sofas and the chairs in the room, placing them in a circle on the floor, then placed the rest of the cushions around those, so that most of the floor was covered with cushions. I’d rather not hurt myself, if I could avoid it, but I was willing to risk anything to see Marty. It was like a mission, now. I stood in the middle of the cushions, completely still, and waited.

  It took all my energy not to transfer my weight from foot to foot. It was getting hotter in the room and I could feel my cheeks burning. I was thirsty and I felt sick in my stomach from not eating. My muscles started to ache and the desire to sit down was strong, but my wish to see Marty was stronger.

  The crackle of the fire started to sound muffled, and white circles of brightness clouded my vision. I resisted the urge to celebrate, knowing that if I moved in the slightest, I could stop myself from passing out. The white circles in my vision gave way to a red glow and then, finally, darkness. The first part of my plan had worked.

  I held my breath, involuntarily, and felt myself lifting up. I didn’t know how I’d managed to leave my body, but I was overjoyed. I remembered how Marty and I had rocketed skywards, going through the ceiling, and looked up. I saw the light fitting in the centre of the ceiling and ignored the natural concerns I had about hurting myself by crashing into it. I wouldn’t feel a thing – I didn’t last time. I melted into the ceiling and continued through the floor of the room above – my dad’s study. I passed the rows of books on shelves and continued through the next ceiling, into my bedroom and then out through the roof.

  I kept looking up, watching the clouds in the dark skies above me. I couldn’t feel the cold, but I could see the snow falling, almost like a blizzard, all around me. I couldn’t see any stars because the cloud cover was too all-encompassing. I fixed my eyes on the clouds, sure that, somewhere up there, Marty was waiting for me.

  I arrived in the clouds. I remembered what Marty had said about walking up here feeling the same as being on Earth. I put my feet down and looked around. At first, I didn’t see anyone. Through the mist of the drifting cloud, I saw a figure walking towards me. I could tell, instantly, that it wasn’t Marty. My heart raced, thundering in my chest.

  The figure came nearer and I could tell it was a male angel. I hadn’t met him before. He had a slender, muscular figure, dark hair and looked like he was in his late teens, like me. He gave me a warm smile as he approached me.

  “Hello. Are you lost?” he asked me, sounding friendly enough. I figured I had nothing to fear from him and he might even try to help me – he wasn’t one of the Dominion, after all, so perhaps he didn’t know who I was.

  “I’m trying to find Marty.” I sounded flustered.

  “Claudia.” He said it simply, like my name was a fact, a response to a question neither of us had asked.

  “You know my name?”

  “I know everything. I’m Alfie.” The name came back to me – he was the angel that Marty had confided in when he first had a problem. Marty trusted him, so I felt I could trust him, too.

  “Can you take me to Marty?” I pleaded with him. I felt a pain in my forehead and touched my hand to the point of the ache.

  “I don’t think we have time – I think you’re about to fall back down.” He said it kindly, but I felt like my stomach had been ripped out. My time up here was running out.

  “Is he OK?” It was all I really cared about, at this moment.

  “No. He’s trying to be. He misses you, too.”

  I bit my lip, trying not to cry, not knowing if it was even possibly to cry up here.

  “Tell him I miss him. Tell him I love him.”

  Alfie smiled. “He knows. Goodbye, Claudia. It was nice to finally meet you.”

  I felt myself slipping, falling. It wasn’t a smooth descent, like the time I left the clouds with Marty. This felt like I was tumbling, out of control, picking up speed as I fell. The Earth was approaching at a rapid, frightening rate. I could see the roof of my house, which appeared to be rising up to hit me, I smacked through it, amazed to feel no pain, slamming through the two internal ceilings, and arriving back in my body.

  I opened my eyes, feeling a throbbing ache in my forehead. I could see a familiar pattern in front of me – the cushion of the sofa. I blinked a couple of times, trying to work out what had happened. I touched my forehead, and felt a sticky, hot liquid. I looked at my fingers, seeing blood on them. I glanced around to see what I had hurt myself on and realised I’d hit my head on the corner of the hearth as I fell. I lay on my back for a few minutes, half on the cushions, half on the floor, and thought about what had just happened. The feeling was bittersweet. I was amazed that my plan had worked and so pleased to have been able to talk about Marty. I was also distraught, to have gone through all that and not have been
able to speak to him myself. My heart ached to know he wasn’t OK, but it was a relief to know I wasn’t the only one feeling the pain.

  I carefully sat up and waited for the room to stop spinning. I stood up and walked to the kitchen, using the wall to support myself. Going straight to the fridge, I found myself a square of chocolate and drank some milk straight from the bottle, trying to make myself feel a bit better, before I attempted to sort out the injury on my head. I wasn’t keen on the sight of blood and I didn’t relish having to examine the cause of the pain I could feel.

  My mum had always kept a first aid kit in the downstairs cloakroom and, as I went to get it, I saw my reflection in the mirror. I gasped. I had blood trickling down my face and a huge, purple bruise sticking out of my forehead. I also had tearstained cheeks and my face was the palest I’d ever seen it.

  I tried to wipe away the blood without hurting myself, but it still stung a lot. I wished Marty was here to look after me, but then again, if he’d been here I wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. Unable to look at the blood on my head any longer, I stuck the biggest plaster I could find over the injury and went to bed. I had nothing worth staying awake for.

  Chapter 19

  The next morning came too soon, the lonely day stretching out on in front of me. My head ached terribly; a streak of blood on my pillow told me that I hadn’t patched myself up as well as I’d hoped the night before. I lay in bed, debating what I could do to avoid the emptiness of a day spent snowed in the house, alone.

  I checked my mobile phone, seeing that it was still quite early in the morning. I was exhausted, yet I couldn’t force myself to go back to sleep. I allowed myself a snort of laughter – now I had nothing to get up for, I was waking up early and feeling unable to sleep: yet before my parents had died I’d always been late for school in the mornings and would have quite happily been fused to my duvet on cold, winter mornings, like this one. I tried not to think about wanting to stay in bed with Marty on cold, winter mornings. It ached more than my head.