Chrysalis Days & Butterfly Nights [Wattys 2023 Shortlist]

17

17

With the car parked, Luke scurried to keep up with Helen's long strides as they navigated the Saturday crowds of the city. She caught a lot of attention. Towering above everyone, head held high, heels clicking upon the ground, she drew admiring glances, second glances. More than once, the occasional passer-by became struck by the vision of Helen that they stopped dead in the street, almost causing chaos and Helen took it all without a sideward glance. She knew exactly how good she looked and didn't care.

Beside her, Luke felt invisible. Tagging along like a puppy, only the leash attached them together was one of fascination and awe. Then, without warning, Helen turned to the side, marching down an alleyway, where industrial bins lined the walls and nondescript doors led to the rear of huge shops filled with customers of all kinds. The alley led to another street, which led to another alley and then to a smaller, far less populated street where the sounds of a bustling city fell away, giving an almost parochial feel to the surroundings.

They appeared to have arrived at a far less commercial area of the city, where old warehouses sat bereft of their previous wares. Most were empty, broken estate agent signage promising new opportunities in square feet and blazing, perfect teeth, smiles as wide as the buildings themselves. All a little rough and dishevelled. Promises broken. Smiles losing lustre. Another alley beckoned, beside a warehouse that looked marginally better maintained than the others, and Helen came to a stop in front of a side door, where her fingers began to tap numbers into a keypad that looked far more modern than felt right for their surroundings.

The door clicked and, with a wink, Helen swung it open, sweeping an inviting hand toward the darkness beyond. Of course Luke hesitated. He looked up and down the alley, hoping that he hadn't fallen into some strange trap, never to see daylight again. Events were moving at an incredible pace and he found it difficult to keep up.

"Trust me." She held out her hand, long fingers curled, palm upward. His hand folded into hers. "Nothing is what it seems. Isn't that a cliché!"

With a laugh, she tugged his hand, forcing him to stumble in through the door and blinked as it closed behind them, leaving them in an almost-darkness. The black held at bay by the soft, green light emanating from the exit sign above the door. Helen appeared to know where she was going, her hand holding Luke's tight. So soft and smooth. Luke doubted she had ever performed any physical labour in her life.

She led him along a corridor filled with racks of some kind, before releasing his hand. Light streamed in through a crack as Helen opened another door, popping her head inside, curls becoming a halo. Then, she opened the door wider, cocking her head to the side and holding a silencing finger to lips tinted a far more subtle colour than the night before. Another quick glance outside and she slipped through the door.

Luke would never have expected to find such a place behind the industrial façade of the warehouse. High, plastered walls, painted a brilliant white, had spotlights throwing rings of varying colours against them. Chiffon curtains drooped from golden rails against the surface of the wall where no windows gave views of the outside world. Works of art hung from wires, dangling in the air, too high to see without turning heads to the rafters, even for Helen.

The place stood empty. A vast space populated by nothing but air and cold, brutal elegance. Within the open area, Helen's heel clicks echoed and rebounded from the walls, sounding like the ticks of a great clock. She headed toward a set of metal stairs at the far end of the space, leading up to a mezzanine floor, all glass and chrome and yet more stark, white walls.

"Mimi! I mean, Helen!" A man leaned elbows against the rail, hands clasped together as he watched Helen begin to take the stairs one at a time. A far cry from how she had rushed up the stairs in Luke's home. "You, my dear, are late. If she sees you here ..."