Dev
returned to
America
in two
weeks' time, she would be in
Australia
,
starting a new life.
The
following days were awful, but Jaime managed to smooth the rough edges for her.
He had insisted that Amy Worden accompany Cle to get her passport and her
shots. He swore it was because he didn't want her to shame him that he had
given her such a fine collection of clothes for her very own.
Cle
tried to protest, but she was so cocooned in misery her words seemed to have no
impact. Amy's sympathy was overt and would have embarrassed Cle had she the
strength to feel such an emotion.
It
seemed to her that an automaton, not her own self, packed her luggage and
directed Mrs. Hubbard to send the other things to storage. When the woman asked
her about her whereabouts, Cle directed her to send all mail and queries to
Toner. She could tell the older woman was displeased by the lack of
information, but Cle was determined to cut herself off from all ties to
New York
until she did,
in Jaime's words, "get over Dev." She didn't probe too deeply into
the despair that rolled over her at such a thought. She gritted her teeth,
willing her thoughts, ahead of her body, to
Sydney
,
Australia
,
land of sunshine, beauty, and forgetfulness.
She
had no memory of getting on the plane after her watery farewells with Amy.
Jaime had a grim faced look when he kissed her good bye, surprising Cle by
kissing her on the lips.
All
her life she had wanted to go to
Hawaii
.
She and Dev had talked of taking a trip to the enchanted islands one day. It
was an effort to smile when a young man draped a lei about her neck. She felt a
stirring of interest when she looked at
Diamond Head
against the skyline but she wasn't unhappy that she only had an hour layover.
She took little interest after that, deciding to force herself to work so that
she would be ready with some new sketches to show Max Brainerd.
They
landed at
Sydney
in the early evening. Cle was unprepared for the daylight, expecting darkness
and coolness. She had forgotten that in
Sydney
it would be like late spring back home, that the approaching Christmas season
signaled days on the beach to Australians not days on the ski slopes as it
would to a New Yorker.
Max
Brainerd met her himself, surprising her. She studied the medium build, sandy
haired man in front of her and thought how much like Jaime he looked. She felt
the first real smile on her face for days.
Max
cocked his head, his bushy eyebrows cafe au lait colored and mobile. "I
know. People used to think we were brothers when we studied together in
Paris
. Of course I'm
much more talented than Jaime, but he's quite good."
Cle
laughed.
"Come,
my dear, I have a lovely flat for you not too far from the salon. It's the top
floor of an old warehouse on a street of lovely little shops. The second floor is
the storage area. The third floor is your flat. There is a private elevator
that leads from the street and it's quite spacious. A friend of mine owns the
building and renovated the top floor for his own use but now his work takes him
to
London
for... whatever is wrong, my dear. You've gone white on me. Are you ill? Jet
lag?"
"Nothing
really. Maybe a bit of jet lag." Cle smiled weakly, wondering if the word
London
would ever stop
lacerating her.
Cle
was glad for the spectacular view as they drove into the city. "Are all
sundowns so splendid?" she whispered to Max, afraid to break the
kaleidoscope spell cast by the lowering sun.
"Just
for tourists, my dear." Max chuckled.
Cle
was so busy rubbernecking that she didn't even notice the direction they took.
For her the trip was all too fast. The wonderful city bathed in orchid twilight
seemed to have the look of the enchanted
land
of
Oz. Cle
had a sudden curl of hope inside.
She
was delighted with the apartment. It was spacious and had a rough hewn elegance
that was both masculine and tasteful. It was nothing like the sophisticated
decor of Dev's apartment. Much of the wall space was covered by honey
returned to
America
in two
weeks' time, she would be in
Australia
,
starting a new life.
The
following days were awful, but Jaime managed to smooth the rough edges for her.
He had insisted that Amy Worden accompany Cle to get her passport and her
shots. He swore it was because he didn't want her to shame him that he had
given her such a fine collection of clothes for her very own.
Cle
tried to protest, but she was so cocooned in misery her words seemed to have no
impact. Amy's sympathy was overt and would have embarrassed Cle had she the
strength to feel such an emotion.
It
seemed to her that an automaton, not her own self, packed her luggage and
directed Mrs. Hubbard to send the other things to storage. When the woman asked
her about her whereabouts, Cle directed her to send all mail and queries to
Toner. She could tell the older woman was displeased by the lack of
information, but Cle was determined to cut herself off from all ties to
New York
until she did,
in Jaime's words, "get over Dev." She didn't probe too deeply into
the despair that rolled over her at such a thought. She gritted her teeth,
willing her thoughts, ahead of her body, to
Sydney
,
Australia
,
land of sunshine, beauty, and forgetfulness.
She
had no memory of getting on the plane after her watery farewells with Amy.
Jaime had a grim faced look when he kissed her good bye, surprising Cle by
kissing her on the lips.
All
her life she had wanted to go to
Hawaii
.
She and Dev had talked of taking a trip to the enchanted islands one day. It
was an effort to smile when a young man draped a lei about her neck. She felt a
stirring of interest when she looked at
Diamond Head
against the skyline but she wasn't unhappy that she only had an hour layover.
She took little interest after that, deciding to force herself to work so that
she would be ready with some new sketches to show Max Brainerd.
They
landed at
Sydney
in the early evening. Cle was unprepared for the daylight, expecting darkness
and coolness. She had forgotten that in
Sydney
it would be like late spring back home, that the approaching Christmas season
signaled days on the beach to Australians not days on the ski slopes as it
would to a New Yorker.
Max
Brainerd met her himself, surprising her. She studied the medium build, sandy
haired man in front of her and thought how much like Jaime he looked. She felt
the first real smile on her face for days.
Max
cocked his head, his bushy eyebrows cafe au lait colored and mobile. "I
know. People used to think we were brothers when we studied together in
Paris
. Of course I'm
much more talented than Jaime, but he's quite good."
Cle
laughed.
"Come,
my dear, I have a lovely flat for you not too far from the salon. It's the top
floor of an old warehouse on a street of lovely little shops. The second floor is
the storage area. The third floor is your flat. There is a private elevator
that leads from the street and it's quite spacious. A friend of mine owns the
building and renovated the top floor for his own use but now his work takes him
to
London
for... whatever is wrong, my dear. You've gone white on me. Are you ill? Jet
lag?"
"Nothing
really. Maybe a bit of jet lag." Cle smiled weakly, wondering if the word
London
would ever stop
lacerating her.
Cle
was glad for the spectacular view as they drove into the city. "Are all
sundowns so splendid?" she whispered to Max, afraid to break the
kaleidoscope spell cast by the lowering sun.
"Just
for tourists, my dear." Max chuckled.
Cle
was so busy rubbernecking that she didn't even notice the direction they took.
For her the trip was all too fast. The wonderful city bathed in orchid twilight
seemed to have the look of the enchanted
land
of
Oz. Cle
had a sudden curl of hope inside.
She
was delighted with the apartment. It was spacious and had a rough hewn elegance
that was both masculine and tasteful. It was nothing like the sophisticated
decor of Dev's apartment. Much of the wall space was covered by honey
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