Chrysalis Days & Butterfly Nights [Wattys 2023 Shortlist]

39

39

This was the last time. The last time that Lucinda would ever see this door. A door she had viewed with more than a little trepidation as Helen had hammered upon it. A door that opened into a world she had barely registered existed, but a world that had welcomed her. She looked up to the sign, its peeling paint never to be revived. The butterfly upon it never to brighten the alley as it once had, long ago.

The door slammed open as Krystal dragged a suitcase almost the same size as her through it. At least, she attempted to drag it through the door. One side had caught on the frame and, when she shook the suitcase and shuffled it, the other side caught on the door frame. Then Helen came to the rescue, as she always did, kicking the suitcase until it, and Krystal, tumbled out into the alley to land near Lucinda's feet.

Helen, several dress bags encasing any number of clothes hanging from a finger over her shoulder, stepped out into the unseasonal sunlight, sunglasses already adorning her face. With careful steps, she carried the dress bags, pulled another suitcase behind her, on its wheels, and stopped beside Krystal. With a dramatic flourish, she released the suitcase handle, swept her arm out and waited for Krystal to take hold of it, hauling the little woman to her feet.

"Everything's a performance for you." Lucinda flung back the jacket she wore, resting her hand upon her hip as she shook her head at her friends. "The world is your stage and we merely your adoring audience."

"Too fucking right, darling!" She removed the sunglasses, raised her arms out to the side and posed, chin held high, dress bags dangling from her hand. "Worship me, bitches!"

"Oh, if her Holy Mistress can come down from her pedestal fora second, perhaps she can help me get this suitcase into the car?" Krystal grabbed the handle of the suitcase and dragged it around. Then, she stood, looking both ways up the alley and frowning. "Where's the car? There was supposed to be a car, right? I wasn't imagining that? Again."

"Fucking Carlo! What's the point of taking advantage of one's Maman if her assistant can't get the car here on time?" In a huff, Helen laid the dress bags across the top of the large suitcase and dug into her handbag, searching for her phone. "I was supposed to make a grand exit, slipping into the car as my adoring fans took photos and groped me. Well, my adoring fan. You do adore me, don't you, darling?"

"Of course. With all my cold, black heart." Lucinda's heels clicked upon the surface of the alley as she came to stand beside her friends. "And the car was here for an hour, waiting, apparently, because you were late. As usual. He had to drive around the one-way system because of a traffic warden. He'll be back soon."

That deflated Helen a little bit. Not a lot, because she had an endless supply of insufferable effervescence, but enough to prick her ego. She ground the heel of her shoe into the pocked tarmac and looked both ways several times, as though that would make the car magically appear. It didn't and that infuriated Helen even more. Krystal sat upon the smaller suitcase, chin in her hands.

It took another few minutes before the car did arrive and it did so with some difficulty. Of course Helen had ordered a stretch limo to take her and Krystal north to Manchester. A pink stretch limo. It couldn't be anything less. Lucinda didn't doubt that if Helen could have landed a helicopter outside Butterfly, she would have. Anything to draw attention to herself.

As the car came to a halt, the driver skipped out, rushing to the other side where he began to take Helen and Krystal's luggage in both hands. Helen's mouth opened in exaggerated lust as she saw the man, muscles bulging against a uniform that threatened to explode from the man's body. She wafted a hand to her face, winking at Lucinda. Then, once the driver had packed their luggage and opened the rear passenger door, he stood waiting for Helen and Krystal.