The Third Angel Page 3

  You'd better show up. You owe me that at least. You owe me more, as a matter of fact.

  That night, Maddy fell into a fitful sleep. She dreamed she was in the backyard in Connecticut. There was the sycamore tree with a thousand bones tied to its branches. Red flowers grew instead of leaves. Maddy went to pick a flower, but she sliced open her hand. The flowers were made of glass. She remembered what it felt like to cut herself. She remembered that she thought it was the only way to feel anything. Inside her dream Maddy heard a man shouting. She opened her eyes and he was still shouting. The clock on her bedside table read ten-thirty p.m. All of a sudden she was completely awake. She had never heard such impassioned shouting. An Englishman, and for an instant she thought Paul, but it wasn't Paul's voice. The ruckus was in the hall, in the doorway of the room directly across from hers: 707. Maddy got up and went to peek out, but there was no keyhole, no way of seeing what was happening outside. She thought for a moment of opening her door, but the unseen man was shouting so terribly that Maddy felt she might stumble into a confrontation that was none of her business. Instead, she put her ear against the door. She couldn't make out very much, only stray words. “Every time,” she heard him say. “Unbelievable.”

  Maddy slipped back under the covers and put her hands over her ears. She stayed there, shivering, until she stopped thinking, until all she could remember was the sycamore tree. She remembered sharing a bed with her sister and how afraid she'd been of the dark.

  HE HAD RETURNED to the flat the morning following the curry dinner, after Allie had gone off to a meeting with the director of the film adaptation of The Heron's Wife. They were tweaking the final edits of the screenplay. Georgia was to be the set designer and she came by and picked up Allie. They'd be at it all day. Maddy was supposed to amuse herself, then join Allie at the dress shop. It was the final fitting for the wedding suit and the maid of honor's dress, which was being taken in at the waist. When tailored, it would fit Maddy perfectly. “You'll look like a flower,” Allie had said. “An iris. Don't forget to meet me at five.”

  Allie left breakfast on the table, the way she had when they were girls. There were croissants and cereal and jam, but all Maddy wanted was black coffee. Instead of bothering with breakfast, she fixed herself some strong coffee and had a cigarette even though she knew Allie didn't like anyone to smoke in her flat. One more rule to be broken. She sat by the window and waved the plume of smoke out into the air. Allie would never know. She'd never been the suspicious type. Really, for someone so smart and so sure of herself, she'd always been quite easy to fool.

  Allie had been at her meeting for nearly an hour when the buzzer sounded. Right away, Maddy had the strangest feeling that it was Paul. She had been thinking about him all night. She was despicable for being attracted to her sister's fiancé, but it was all in her mind, after all, and she wasn't responsible for what went on inside her head. It wasn't as though she planned to act on any of it. Yes, she had always stolen things from Allie, but a man wasn't a velvet skirt or a pair of boots. Even Maddy knew that. Love wasn't something you could borrow and then return.

  Maddy went to the intercom. “Heller Residence.” She was wearing a T-shirt and underpants and one of Allie's robes. Her hair smelled like smoke and she knew she'd have to shampoo it before she met up with Allie.

  “I know where I am,” Paul said through the intercom.

  So that was it. The moment before the disaster. Maddy could push the button and let him up, or she could step away and go back to bed. She could pretend she hadn't heard him; perhaps a deliveryman had rung up and she'd decided to ignore his arrival.

  “Why should I let you in?” was what she said. She thought she knew the answer, but she wasn't sure.

  “Because you want to,” Paul told her.

  When Maddy pressed the buzzer to unlock the door to the downstairs vestibule, she could feel the vibration through the bones of her hand, up along her arm, into her shoulder. She had a breathless, giddy feeling, as though she were about to dive off the high board into a pool. She thought about the way he'd looked at her at the dinner table. Imagining him, she felt flushed again, overwhelmed with desire. She didn't think of herself as a liar or a cheat, but sometimes the truth was mutable, wasn't it?

  Maddy could have changed her mind while Paul took the lift up, but she didn't. He knocked on the door and she told herself nothing bad was about to happen. He is coming for a scarf he forgot, or to leave a gift for Allie, or to grab a bottle of wine in the fridge. I am opening the door to him for that reason, because he needs something he accidentally left behind.

  She was lying to herself. She was good at that. She hadn't bothered to tie the sash of her robe.

  “So what's the decision? Are you letting me in?” Paul stood just outside the door. He was the sort of man who usually got his way. But now he seemed to hesitate.

  “You sound like the big bad wolf,” Maddy said.

  “Oh, no,” Paul said. “Slam the door in my face and I swear I won't howl. I'll slink away. You, my girl, will never have to see me again.”

  It was so easy. She opened the door for him and the rest was like disappearing into the dark night to a place where no one could find you. No footsteps, no fingerprints, no evidence of any kind.

  SHE WAS TWENTY minutes late to the dress shop.

  “I got so lost,” Maddy said as she rushed into the fitting rooms where Allie was trying on her suit. “I thought I'd never find this place.”

  Allie laughed. “You look a mess.”

  Maddy's hair was pinned up and she hadn't bothered with any makeup. She was wearing jeans, a sweater, and boots. She still felt him all over her. She had showered but she felt rank, as though she'd just crawled up from the sewer. She couldn't believe what she had done. Such things weren't quite as real if you didn't think about them, and that was what Maddy planned to do.

  She tore off her clothes and slipped on her maid of honor dress. The tailor lowered his eyes. Maddy thought she might be giving off the odor of sour milk. She thought of the time she'd ruined her sister's bed. What on earth had made her do such a vile thing?

  “You're supposed to go behind the curtain to undress!” Allie said. “You exhibitionist!”

  “Oh, who cares!”

  Maybe she deserved to be punished, set out on the street with no clothes for people to jeer at. When she let him into her sister's flat she hadn't been thinking. Maybe Paul hadn't either. He seemed angry afterward, even though he was the one to begin it. Fuck it all, he'd said. That's what my future's worth. Might as well live even if you ruin everything before you drop out of this world, right? Maddy had a fleeting thought: Maybe he hadn't so much been desperate for her; maybe he was simply desperate. The truth was, she didn't know him at all.

  “It fits like a dream,” Allie said of the blue dress.

  “It does,” Maddy agreed.

  Allie turned to stare at herself in the mirror. She did not look pleased. She looked like a woman who wanted to run. “Am I doing the wrong thing?”

  “Wearing a suit when you could have chosen a gorgeous gown?”

  Maddy felt sick. She hadn't had breakfast or lunch. She hadn't had time. She was too busy ruining things, right there in her sister's flat. She made up the bed after he'd left. She couldn't help but think, He didn't even help me clean up. He'd been right about himself. He was selfish and thoughtless and yet she wanted to see him again. She liked the idea of leaving no evidence, of having a secret no one would ever guess. She wondered if she had a monster inside her, one that had outgrown its bounds.

  “You know what I mean, Maddy. Should I call off the wedding?”

  Maddy stared at her sister, stunned. Allie stared back at her in the mirror. Was it possible her sister knew she had been betrayed by the look on her face? Could she pick up the scent of duplicity? Maddy wished they could both walk through the mirror to the other side, to the day before this one, when there was so much less to hide. But she had to have what she wanted, didn't she?

  “Are you serious?” Hopefully her voice gave nothing away. “Are you considering calling it off?”

  “I'm the one who's always expected to keep my promises.” Allie took off her suit jacket; all she wore underneath was a white slip. It was prettier than her wedding outfit. “Isn't that right? Isn't that what you all want from me?”

  MADDY CALLED PAUL the next day, but his mobile had been turned off and no one answered his home phone. While Allie went out to run errands, Maddy snooped around on the Internet. She found that Paul had been the film editor on several TV programs for the BBC. Although he hadn't seemed to have worked very much in the past year, Maddy did manage to find out a huge amount of information—his school records, his football team scores, facts about his parents in Reading, where his father was a professor of chemistry and his mother, who'd been a nurse, was the head of the garden club. She quickly became an expert on the details of Paul's life. He came over that night for a drink, and while Allie was getting the ice he said to Maddy, “Let's forget it ever happened.” As if she had been the one who had come after him. He was standing very close and he'd taken her arm. She thought he was even more of a liar than she could have first guessed. She wanted to get him back some way. She had the nerve to kiss him then, right in her sister's living room. He backed away and said, “Good-bye, little sister,” as though it was over between them.

  She didn't have much time. She'd be in New York in a matter of hours. Allie was working the next day, and Maddy assured her she'd manage to entertain herself. She'd go see Buckingham Palace. She insisted that she'd be perfectly happy to wander around like a tourist. Instead, she looked up Paul's address and went out to hail a taxi. When she pulled up in front of his flat, she didn't know what to do next. Most likely he wouldn't ans
wer the door if he realized it was Maddy.

  “Did you want to get out?” the driver asked.

  “If I did I would. I'm waiting for someone.”

  They sat in the parked cab without speaking. At noon, Paul came out and signaled for a taxi of his own.

  “Follow him and don't let yourself be seen,” Maddy told her driver.

  Paul's taxi deposited him outside one of the old grand houses in Kensington. It reminded Maddy of a wedding cake. There was a little park across from it where children were playing under the trees. Maddy should have guessed she wasn't the only one Paul was cheating with. She sank back into the cab. Cheaters cheat and liars lie. That was what was in their DNA.

  “Are you getting out now, miss?” the driver said.

  She watched Paul go up the steps and ring the bell. The door opened and he went inside. Maddy paid the driver and got out; her face was hot and flushed. Paul was surely betraying Allie, yet Maddy was the one who felt violated. She waited a while, then went up to the town house. A maid came to answer the bell.

  “I'm expected,” Maddy announced.

  “They're having lunch outside,” the maid replied. “I wasn't told there was a third.”

  “Well, there is,” Maddy said.

  She sounded sure of herself, so the maid let her in. The house was enormous and cool and elegant. After the sunlight it was somewhat difficult for Maddy to focus in the shadowed interior. There was a great deal of woodwork and a huge staircase. The entryway floor was patterned in black-and-white marble.

  “I'll find my way,” Maddy assured the maid. “I'm fine on my own.”

  “If you say so.”

  Maddy could hear voices, and all she needed was to follow the sound. She went through the front hall, into the parlor. The walls were painted red and gold and the floor was ebony. Maddy continued on through a French door that led to a conservatory. Beyond that was the garden. Paul wore linen slacks and a pale blue shirt. A tree was in bloom and there were dozens of rosebushes along a high stone wall. The garden was deep, dark green, almost black in the shadows. The paths were made of slate and brick and stone. There were birds in the trees. Paul had taken his jacket off. He'd been pruning the roses, but now he came to sit at the table, across from his lunch partner, a woman Maddy could only see from the back, and who wore a large straw summer hat. Paul was laughing at something his companion was saying. “If you want to hire me to be your gardener, I'll take the job in a minute,” he said happily. “Of course you can't pay me a cent. And with my handiwork, I'll probably kill everything.”

  Maddy moved closer; the tall hedge beside the path trembled as the birds in it took flight. Paul looked up. When he saw Maddy he froze.

  “Are you all right, Paul?” his companion asked.

  “Probably not,” he answered.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Maddy called from the stone path. “This is why you couldn't take my phone calls?”

  Paul excused himself from the table. “I'll be right back,” he said to his lunch date. He walked toward Maddy, furious. “Are you insane? Did you follow me?”

  “Does she pay you for services other than gardening?”

  “Mrs. Ridge is a family friend. She's been like a grandmother to me. So keep your voice down.”

  The woman had turned to look and Maddy saw that she was an elderly woman, a very beautiful English lady, hardly a rival.

  Mrs. Ridge began to rise from her chair, concerned. Paul grinned and waved. “This will just take a minute,” he assured her.

  He took Maddy's arm and led her back through the conservatory. There were yellow and brown orchids in a row and majolica pots filled with ferns.

  “Mrs. Ridge has been responsible for a great deal in my life, including my education. She's part of our family. She has no children of her own and she dotes on me. I'm crazy about her as well. I don't expect to be followed to my visit with her.”

  “I didn't know,” Maddy said.

  “You know very little,” Paul said dismissively.

  Maddy turned and ran. What had she done? He wasn't even worth caring about. He was selfish and horrid, just as he'd warned. She ran out of the house, twisting her ankle on her way down the steps. She walked all the way to the park, limping, and paused by the side of the road. When Paul came by in a taxi she was in tears.

  “Get in,” he called through the window. They stared at each other. “Get in and don't make a fucking scene.”

  Maddy climbed into the taxi and closed the door.

  “I told Mrs. Ridge you were a lunatic business associate,” Paul said. “She suggested I fire you.”

  “Great. Lovely.”

  “We did something desperate, my girl. Agreed?”

  Paul seemed exhausted. Maddy noticed he had a terrible cough; he'd probably been sick when they were together. She would surely come down with whatever he had. She deserved it.

  Paul leaned in close. He smelled like soap. “We made a stupid mistake. I know why I came over that morning, but I never thought you'd open the door for me. I was a little surprised how ready you were to betray her.”

  “To hell with you. You were a party to it.”

  “I felt sure you'd turn me down and then go running to Allie and tell her I'd propositioned you.”

  “You wanted me to say no?” Maddy was mortified. She didn't understand.

  Paul's shirt was wrinkled now; the fabric was linen, the color of the sky, pale and fresh and new. He'd left his suit jacket behind. “Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have involved you. I truly apologize.”

  They'd reached their destination and had pulled over to the curb. Maddy didn't notice they had arrived until there was a tap on the taxi window. She nearly jumped out of her skin. Paul rolled down the window. It was Georgia, just leaving after dropping Allie at her flat.

  “What do you know,” Georgia said thoughtfully.

  “I saw her on the street and thought I'd give the poor girl a ride.” Paul opened the door. “Go on,” he said to Maddy. “Your chariot has brought you back. Good to see you, Georgia.” He shut the door and the taxi pulled away and that was it. He was finished with her. She had served her purpose, whatever it was.

  “I detest him,” Georgia said.

  “Really?” Maddy turned to go inside. For once they agreed. “So do I.”

  AFTER SHE GOT back to New York she said nothing about what had happened. When she spoke to Allie on the phone, she questioned her about Paul. She hated him in some strange, greedy way. She couldn't stop thinking about their single encounter. Maybe she would stand up at the wedding and announce what had happened. Why shouldn't she? She'd be doing both Allie and herself a favor. It would be best to reveal him to one and all, even if that meant she'd have to reveal herself as well.

  Maddy grew depressed. Her work suffered and one of the partners asked if she'd had a death in the family. Usually she was busy all weekend; now she slept till noon and avoided going out. When her parents came into the city and stopped at her apartment one Sunday, their knock at her door woke her even though it was two in the afternoon.

  Lucy pulled her aside. “What's wrong?”

  “There's nothing wrong! Why do you always think the worst of me?”

  “I know when something's wrong,” Lucy Heller told her daughter.

  “Really? Then you should have known it throughout my childhood. You didn't seem to care back then. You didn't seem to even notice me.”

  Her mother was taken aback.

  “How can you say that? Of course I noticed you,” Lucy said. “I noticed how much alike we were. Haven't you?”

  MADDY THOUGHT ABOUT the time she had run away from home after her parents split up. She'd worn a raincoat and her winter boots; it was spring and everything was damp. It was so easy to run away. She opened the door and walked into the dark. She knew exactly where she was going. She went through the yard, past the sycamore tree. Allie had told her that the blue heron would come for the one he truly loved. The grass was wet and spongy and Maddy sank into it. The mud covered her boots. There were no stars and the moon sat behind the clouds, but it was enough to light her way.