"WOULD it kill you two to share anything with me? Keeping your secrets between the pair of you, because foolish little Lydia might lose her pretty head!"
I was super pissed off.
The plot thickened by the day, and I was sick of being the last one to know everything. Violet had seen Daddy there? To be honest, I wasn't too shocked by the proclamation - he'd fit in the atmosphere perfectly, with all the white-collar men with a knack for bad habits.
"What makes you so entitled to this information?" Violet shot back, not taking kindly to a scolding. Rudy hung back with reluctance.
"Why? Maybe because he's my father too!"
"Oh, poor you," Violet's nasty side had been provoked. "I try my hardest to protect you from all the bad shit in the world, letting you believe everything's just a story. But the reality is, Lydia, people are horrid! At least you have the luxury of not remembering how rough our childhood used to be! Mom and Dad used to fight and fight - and Arabella wasn't the only one, oh no - until she slept with her editor as revenge. So don't act so offended... you're not even old enough to remember."
I was brought up short. It was a fact I had never even considered - my memories of the divorce were foggy, fragmented - but Violet was two years older.
She would have witnessed the worst of it.
The journey to Red's considered a waste, we formed immediate plans to go the Club ourselves. Even Rudy was on board, concocting his famous dose calculated to knock out one loathing stepmother and her straight-laced brother.
So with Father Edgar and Arabella tucked up in their beds after a late-night cup of tea, we got ready.
Violet helped me doll me up. With a cigarette dangling from her mouth, she applied various cosmetics to my face, half of which I couldn't name. The occasional puff of smoke caused my eyes to stream, which earned an irritated sigh from Violet.
My skin itched. A knot of nervousness had formed in my gut.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you the other day," my sister said.
"It's fine," I replied. "I didn't think."
"Wear this," she thrust one of her dresses into my arms. It was a soft magnolia color, shoulder-showing, soft fabric. "You'll look wonderful."
"It doesn't matter what I look like. We're not exactly going to have fun, are we?"
"Well, why not? Kill two birds with one stone."
I wish I could say that I was used to it. Deception, a family of liars and sneaks - but my tired reflection just stared blankly back at me from the mirror. I had accumulated a kind of ageing fatigue to my youthful features over time. I hadn't bothered question Rudy about the wallet. Half of me didn't care.
I was exhausted by everyone's complicated ways.
"The car's here," Violet pulled me down the stairs. She wore a shapely white dress that seemed unfamiliar. "God, it's a blessing your dumb friends agreed to come."
She looked like a stranger to me, then. Turning her head to check my expression, her curls bounced; and for one microsecond, there was melancholy behind her eyes. Then, in one flicker, it was gone. How could someone possess such a knack of making one feel so special, then ruin it with one single glance?
She was a hollow person, Violet - a mixture of caring and cruelty. And I didn't know her at all, really.
"Hi!" Betsy cried across the lawn, winding down the car window. I could see Lorna in the front seat - I'd forgotten she had her license. Nick was crammed in the back, and slid over obligingly as Violet opened the door.
"Where's Sam?" I asked, aware that everyone was staring me up and down.
"Oh, he's sworn off late nights," Nick said. "He had a horrific hangover last time. Ended up hurling over the kitchen floor of his house. Let's just say he had a lot of mopping to do."
"That's disgusting," Betsy cringed.
She and Lorna had never looked so glamorous. I'd never imagined them dressed up to the max before, but they looked truly stunning in shimmering dresses, their hair flowing like luscious curtains.
"I literally fell out my window sneaking out," Lorna said. "Ripped my dress on a nail, but luckily there was a safety pin in the glovebox. I mean, dude, how could I miss out? Even if we get chucked out in the first ten minutes! Hey, are we okay to go?"
Violet leaned forward.
"Wait a minute."
The manner that Rudy emerged from the house - god, he looked like he had been born out of the shadows. Head to toe in black, his sharp chin was illuminated by the night sky. He looked formal and casual at the same time, and we were rendered speechless.
Nick found his voice first. "Looking sharp, mate!"
Squashing across, we created space. Rudy sat gracefully beside me. No one bothered with seat belts.
I barely spoke during the drive. Every now and again I'd laugh along to Nick and Violet's jokes, but the prison of my thoughts was inescapable.
What if we actually saw him tonight? It was a desperate and probably useless mission, but then that was most of the things we tried.
"Heck, look at the security," Nick whistled. We all craned out necks as the car cruised by. Outside of the art-decor style building, a few big men stood with folded arms. Even thought the place was strictly classified as a nightclub, I had a feeling they wouldn't tolerate those who didn't fit the description.
"This is such a mistake," I said.
"Don't worry, I can get us in." Violet didn't even hesitate.
"I know you consider yourself quite the expert, but there's no way that those guys are going to look at me and not see a schoolgirl! I swear to god, if any middle-aged men make eyes at me, I'll leave faster than fu-"
Rudy opened the door, and a blast of chilly air came with it. My ankles wobbled in my wedge-heels. The worst outcome was playing over and over, and I was preparing mentally to turn back to the safety of the car.
But Violet was actually true to her word. As the gang of us approached closer and closer, the doorman didn't seem particularly interested.
"Evening," Violet trilled, steadying my elbow so I didn't stumble.
And then it was over.
Within one blink, we were in.
"That was easy," Lorna breathed, turning to flash a smile at me. With a stab of affection, I was glad none of them knew the real reason we came. Meanwhile, Rudy's eyes were already darting around at the many faces under the circular lights.
A permanent haze hung over the bar, hiding the faces of the smokers high on their stools. Men dressed in expensive suits seemed to lounge in every corner, or chortling in groups, while women gleaming with jewellery drank from tall glasses.
Jazz music played from another room. We could see bodies dancing - but not the raving, jumping around sort of antics we were used to, but more a more intimate, classic rhythm.
Every soul seemed beautiful and important here. But I knew this place harbored the corrupted, the blackened, the sinful.
With a sense of déjà vu, my sister strode up to the bar. I hung back with the others.
My hands felt unusually sticky. I was starting to feel self-conscious, so every time I had eye contact with somebody I tried a trembly smile. Violet returned holding a pink drink. A man I didn't recognize nodded at her as he passed; "How's it going, Delilah?"
"Delilah?" I raised my brows when he was out of earshot.
"You know. You don't remember her in the Bible? I didn't fancy using my real name around this place." Violet seemed a little rattled. "We should dance."
My friends dissolved into the dim lighting, as Violet hardly waited for my response. The boys shuffled over to the bar. Before I could comprehend, we were right in the belly of the beast.
I'd never partied with her before, but it was like no experience I'd had with my friends. Sure, Danny and I had mucked around, and Betsy and Nick had a few signature moves they pulled out. Our dancing was just silly kid's stuff. Violet knew what she was doing. The way she made such slight movements of her body, without drawing too much attention but at the same time, catching the eye of every passing fellow.
I kept my head down, focusing all my attention towards my sister.
"I can't see him!" I tried to tell her, but the music was so loud I couldn't even catch my own words.
Eventually, most of the group caught up with us. Betsy and Lorna had glasses of wine, and Nick had what was possibly ale. I could hardly be bothered to ask, because I'd just had to repeat myself over the sound of the saxophones anyway.
The night ended up being one of the longest I can recall. My body tensed every time a stranger brushed by, ready to slap hands away. The group split and unfamiliar people closed in. My ears started to pound. After a period of tolerance, I broke off to have a nose by the pool table.
Granted, it was a massive place.
If God really hated me, Daisy would have been here. After all, she did have a reason to go after me again.
The brightly-colored balls knocked on the sides of the wooden table, and one of the guys pretended to break the stick in half. The music never stopped. I leaned against the wall wearily, wondering if I could ask to be taken home.
Violet and Rudy were at the bar. I hated to admit it, but they looked very alluring together. You would have thought them a handsome couple if you didn't know them.
Better not break up the secret club, I thought with a scrap of viciousness.
A group of women trotted past. Their soft laughter was like music.
Suddenly I felt like seeing Betsy and Lorna very badly.
Time dragged on another fifteen minutes until I did. Swinging open the doors of the Ladies' toilets, they sat together up on the sink, legs dangling side by side. They were halfway through giggling when I interrupted, then came to a halt.
"What's up, doll?'
"Nothing much."
"There's room if you want to come sit with us," Lorna offered. There was glitter on her cheeks. "Oh, you missed it, it was so funny - I tricked some guy at the bar into thinking I could read tarot cards-"
"Can I have your keys? I left some money in the car." The lie didn't feel wrong. The idea of comfy seats in the dark quietness was so appealing.
Perhaps I would've had fun if I had stayed. Perhaps we would've enjoyed the night, scamming more middle-aged men with claims of magic and mystique. Suddenly I was suffocated by the whole place. Eyes seemed to be at every angle. When the night air kissed my skin, I could breathe again.
My ribcage felt kind of caught. My shoes clicked along the pavement as the music faded away, the cold creeping in now. I was very glad to get outside. The car was blissfully silent.
With only the sounds of my own breaths for company, a wave of emotions overcame me.
Part of me was glad we hadn't bumped into my father. There was so much I wanted to say, to yell, to scream. That would kill the night, but the night felt dead anyway.
I kind of hoped Violet would come searching for me. Knowing her, she'd get the fidgets if she had to sit still in the backseat for five minutes. No, she was probably having fun with some guys who all gazed at her like she was the goddess of beauty... or something.
From the corner of my vision, I saw a boy with tousled hair exit the club. Nick didn't look drunk, but there was a bewildered look about him, like he couldn't remember why he was even there. Spinning on his heel, his footsteps started to come closer and closer towards Lorna's car.
Cursing to myself, I arranged a carefree smile.
Nick crashed down on the seat beside me. His clumsy presence was enough the break the holy solitude. However, I didn't really mind him being there, somehow.
"Great party, huh?" he said lightly.
"Fantastic."
Silence fell. My nervous habits had kicked in. Repeatedly, I scuffed the bottom of my shoe against the seat. Scrape. Scrape.
"Who am I kidding, it sucks."
"So boring!"
We both laughed in relief. Thank God that I wasn't the only killjoy who found the environment a bore. My facial muscles stretched into the first real, genuine smile that day.
Besides, I loved the way Nick looked when he laughed - dimples, eyes crinkled. Like the joke you shared was the best in the world.
"I hope you mom doesn't hate me now," I said with a laugh. He hadn't really brought up my drunken mishap in front of Betsy and the other guys. I felt great gratitude for that.
"Don't worry about it, she's seen worse."
"At least we won't have a repeat tonight. If anything, I'll be dragging Violet home."
His face turned serious. "Can I ask you a completely, judgement-free question?"
"Uh. Okay. Shoot."
"Please don't think I'm a total weirdo for thinking this," he started, rapping his knuckles against his knees. He looked a bit uncertain. Maybe he'd ambushed me in private not to seem such a fool. "But Violet... she doesn't have... like, a thing with Rudy, does she?"
I was dumbfounded.
"Well, she has a thing with everyone." My words were carefully chosen. "But, I guess you could say there was something that draw them together. Don't ask me. It's like they have their own secret world."
"I'm not crazy then?"
"Nope. Don't go mentioning it to people, though. My stepmother would..." My tone dwindled, rumination catching up. What would she do?
The car smelt faintly of stale cigarette and chewing gum. It had an odor of childhood about it. For some reason, that made me feel sad. I hated analyzing things too hard, particularly in the presence of other people.
"I feel sorry for her. Violet acts so in control... but she doesn't even consider that people might take advantage of her nature. And I really couldn't tell you what goes on in Rudy's head."
I didn't mention the other thing.
Sometimes I think they're made for each other. Both kids from tragic households, starving for affection.
"I've never asked you about your real mom. You must have had one," Nick said quietly.
The question was one I wasn't prepared for. Subconsciously, I started to pick around the skin of my fingernails. A disgusting habit, but sadly one I couldn't seem to shake. Well, my friends were bound to ask one day, right?
"My real mother died in a pile of her own vomit."
The way I phrased it, it came out sounding almost like a joke. The corner of Nick's mouth twitched. I was afraid he'd laugh, but then he looked sad, too. Brooding didn't suit him.
"I'm sorry," he said awkwardly. "You didn't need to tell me. You know. If you didn't want to."
"I suppose I'll tell you it all one day."
The silence returned again, but this time the air felt lighter. The topic had made me loosen up, strangely. I hadn't noticed how tight my shoulders had been. Now, they felt ready to pop out of the sockets.
And I was very aware how very still everything was. No streetlights flickered. Not one vehicle drove past. Even the doormen had disappeared, no doubt gone to sort some trouble. Nick ran his his fingers through his locks, and our eyes met temporarily. With some kind of a sigh, he just watched me for a while.
Finally, I was forced to stare back. "What?"
His wrist was draped across the backseat. His speech caught, as if he was stuck.
"What?"
"I -" With some hesitance, he moved forward. He'd curled his other hand into a fist, but it didn't prevent the trembling. "I - is it okay if I kiss you?"
"Yeah," I said quietly.
"Like - like on the cheek? Or-"
"No. It's okay."
It's odd, but I could hardly remember anything, except the way his lips felt on mine.
I couldn't describe where my hands were - but we must have been touching, for all of sudden he was so close. In my vision was the corner of his nose; followed by the sensation of softness being pressed against my mouth. It took me a second to respond. Not knowing how to reciprocate, I just let it play out.
The moment was so swift, so warm, so unexpected.
To be honest, I didn't breathe at all. I swear I stopped.