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.An hour later she was taking a seat in the forward coach, the windows gleaming and clear, the smell of lemon cleanser filling the compartment as the train lurched once, twice, and pulled slowly out of the station.Her eyes closed as the rails clicked in increasing cadence, opened a short time later when she felt almost physically the weight lifting from her shoulders.She frowned and leaned close to the window, twisting until her cheek was pressed against the pane.There was nothing but embankment and woodland as the train took the hill's slope, and a grey glare that masked all sight of the valley.She knew she should have felt relieved, and gratified that her decision had been the correct one.Paradoxically, however, the dread returned for a second fleeting as a spinning shadow.While she certainly did not appreciate what was happening to her in Oxrun, neither was she comfortable with the sudden release.It was almost as if whatever had been stalking her was bound by the village, by the hills; and if that were so, then it would be waiting for her when she returned.And if it was, she realized with a start that made her gasp into her palm, then none of it was in her mind at all.It was real.And if it was real, then her father had been right all along."You'll suffocate there, Patrice," he'd said after hearing her decision."I've been there once or twice, and it's no place for a city girl.No place at all.And think of Lauren, for heaven's sake.""Lauren's with her father," she'd said flatly."Don't forget, I'm the one who has summers and holidays now."He lifted his eyes to the ceiling for guidance.So much like her he could have been her reflection."Patrice, you're not thinking.Oxrun Station is a closed community.You'll not fit in.You are definitely not the small-town type.”She'd gone anyway, and she had fit in for the most part, but he would not listen to her when he heard her reasons for fleeing as abruptly as she had.And she couldn't lie to him.Any story she might devise would be as transparent to him as all her stories had been, all her life.He would say, "I told you so," and they would argue and she would return.And when she returned.She sat back, stripping off the gloves and caressing the smooth leather seat beside her.My god, she thought.And didn't bother to stop the tear that wriggled out to her cheek.10IT was after two in the morning when the train pulled away from the station, slipping dark engine and darker cars into the black as it crept across the valley toward the tunnel on the far side that would break it away from Oxrun and into the flatland beyond.The platform was deserted.The stationmaster had long since returned home, and the only light came from a single bulb burning behind the locked doors to the waiting room.Slowly, Pat walked toward the stairs, her heels loud on the wood flooring, her breath unseen but felt as it drifted back into her face ahead of a light breeze.The overcast was gone; reluctantly, the clouds had broken into tatters and tails and had left behind stars as cold as the snow.The parking lot behind the station was empty, and she moved around the corner to escape the wind, holding her case close to her waist.She had called from New York to have a cab waiting, but she wasn't surprised it hadn't arrived.Oxrun Cab and Limousine was a small operation leisurely in its response, perfectly suited to the beat of the village.And she did not mind.She didn't mind at all.From the moment she stepped off the train and entered the cavern that was Grand Central Station she felt as if a field of mild electricity had cloaked her gently.Her vision had sharpened, her fingertips tingled, and even her parents' home had seemed less like a sterile museum.She'd wandered around the penthouse without touching a thing, had a drink and stood on the windswept terrace to look down at Central Park.There'd been children playing, a policeman on horseback, the traffic streaming down Fifth Avenue toward the Plaza Hotel.Vibrancy, she'd thought, knowing the thought was a cliche, and she'd hurried back inside to make a quick meal in the white-and-gold kitchen.She didn't much mind that her parents weren't there; she hadn't come to see them, was relieved there would be no inquisition to ruin her day.And for the rest of the day she walked.Window-shopped.Ducked out of the cold and into a gallery now and then to warm her cheeks and check the competition.She stayed away from the Spartan.Curtis wouldn't like seeing her, feeling as if she were putting pressure on him to accept her students' pieces for the show in June.As it was, she was already beginning to doubt it would happen.The man, though a friend who'd helped her when she'd started, had a reputation as well, and she knew she could push him only so far [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]