to
my chagrin when I’d arrived, not even a mulled wine to deaden
the pain) this had to have been brought in from outside. In which
case, by whom?
I looked at the marks on the back of the child’s dress and saw
they were shaped like a fan. Cursing my shortsightedness, I knelt
down to take a closer look. No, not a fan, I decided, fingers. Small,
spread fingers. And that scent… orange chocolate.
I sank back on my heels. Gabriel had indeed been pushed down the steps.
What’s more, the culprit was a child. But who? As the snow began
to soak through the knees of my slacks a shiver ran through me. Time
to get the heavenly horror inside. Shouldering my camera, I slid my
hands under her inert form. My back responded with a zing of pain
as I clumsily regained my feet and I staggered slightly, snagging
my heel in the hem of the thin satin costume. The Velcro fastenings
parted, revealing a pearl-grey tracksuit beneath. The poor, slain
angel fluttered to the ground, a ghostly outline in the pure, white
crispness that surrounded it. |
Mounting
the steps, I bumped open the fire door and re-entered the hall.
After the darkness outside, the blaze of lights was blinding and
for a moment I stood squinting in the glare. I was aware of those
closest to me turning, the semi-circle of faces all registering
the same few expressions; shock, surprise, concern. But in amongst
the snapshot of emotions were some less expected reactions. Amusement.
Satisfaction. Glee. My mind scarcely had time to register whose
they were before they were lost in the crowd of surging adults.
Questions rained down on me.
‘What happened?’
‘Where did you find her?’
‘Should we call an ambulance?’
I shook my head and laid her as reverently as my loathing would
allow on a stack of gym mats.
‘I don’t know,’ I answered, easing myself upright.
‘I went outside for a smoke and found her lying on the path.
But the steps are treacherous. My guess is she slipped.’
It was a lie but I needed time to think. |
