Coldheart Canyon: A Hollywood Ghost Story

twice about attacking her. On the other hand, she was seriously weakened. If they were to launch such an assault she would be lost; her energies were all but spent.

She looked down at her bosom. Her blouse was in rags and her skin had been deeply scored by the freak's claws. She touched the wounds. They stung, but the blood would soon start to clot. She wasn't a bleeder, luckily. But she was going to need something to clean the wounds if they weren't to become infected—God knows what kind of shit and dirt the creature had had beneath its claws—which meant finding her way, as quickly as possible, back to the house: to clean running water and fresh dressings.

But there was one other matter to deal with before she moved from this place: a bit of cleaning up that couldn't wait until she had water. She picked up a fistful of grass, and wiped her belly, removing as best she could the remnants of the creature's semen. It took more than one fistful to do the job; but when she had cleaned herself (and then cleaned her hands with a third portion of grass) she left the body where it lay, and went on her way.

She listened, as she went, for the sound of pursuit: the rustle of leaves, the snapping of twigs. But she heard nothing. Either the rest of the freakish clan had decided she was too dangerous to pursue, given that she'd just slaughtered one of their more fearsome members, or else the game of pursuit no longer amused them and they'd gone back to whatever crimes they committed in the stinking darkness.

Tammy didn't much care.

As long as they left her alone, she thought, they could do what the hell they liked.

THREE

'Tell me about all the stuff in the guest-house,' Todd asked Katya as they walked. 'Where does it all come from?'

'The large tapestry in the living room was made for The Sorrows of Frederick, which was a terrible picture, but the designs were magnificent. The castle they made for the banquet scene! You never saw anything so grand in your life. And all the Egyptian stuff was from Nefertiti.'

'You played Nefertiti?'

'No, Theda Bara played Nefertiti, because the front office said she was a bigger star than I was. I played her handmaiden. I didn't mind that much because in my mind it was a better role. Theda just vamped her way through her part. Oh Lord, she was bad! But I got a little chance to act. In the end Nefertiti had my lover killed because he was in love with me, not her, so I threw myself off a boat into the Nile.'

'And drowned?'

'I suppose so. Either that or I was eaten by crocodiles.' She laughed. 'I don't know. Anyway, I got some of my best reviews for Nefertiti. Somebody said I could have stepped right out of history . . .'

The evening was beginning to draw on as they walked, taking the simple and relatively direct path which Todd had failed to find on his way up. It was the first night in a long time that Todd hadn't sat at his bedroom window, drinking, brooding and popping pills.

'What about the bed?' Todd said. 'Where did that come from?'

'That was from The Devil's Bride.'

'A horror movie?'

'No, it was this strange picture directed by Edgar Kopel. Very shocking for its time. The bed was supposed to have been owned by the Devil, you see. Carved to his design. And then the hero, who was played by Ronald Colman, inherits it, and he and his bride use it for the bridal bed. But the Devil comes for the bride, and then all Hell breaks loose.'

'What happened in the end?'

'The Devil gets what he wants.'

'You?'

'Me.'

'I don't think that would work for modern audiences.'

'Oh it didn't work in 1923. They stayed away in droves.'

They walked on for a while in silence. Finally Katya said: 'What's troubling you?'

'I can't make sense of what you're telling me. The pieces don't fit—'

'And it frustrates you.'

'Yes.'

'Maybe it's best you just don't think about it.'

'How can I not think about it?' he said. 'This place. You. The posters. The bed. What am I supposed to make of it all?'

'Make whatever pleases you,' she said. 'Why's it so important that you have an explanation for everything? I told you: things are different here.'

She caught hold of his hand, and they stopped walking. There were insects in the grass all around them, making music; overhead, the stars were coming out, their patterns as familiar as the din of cicadas; and tonight, as strange. His doubts were contagious. The fact that he didn't understand how it was possible this woman could have lived the life she claimed to have lived spread confusion into every other sign the world brought him. What was he doing here, in between the music in the grass and the brightening stars? He suddenly seemed to understand nothing. His face throbbed, and his eyes stung.

'It's all right,' she said softly. 'There's nothing to be afraid of.'

'I'm not afraid,' he said.

It was the truth, in a way. What he felt was not fear, it was something far more distressing. He felt lost, cast off from every certainty.

But then he looked at her face, at her perfect face, and he felt a calm come over him. So what if he was adrift? So were they both. And wasn't it better to be with her, sharing her gentle madness, than to be alone in this unforgiving world?

He leaned toward her, and kissed her on the lips. Nothing overtly sexual; just a tender kiss.

'What was that for?' she asked him, smiling.

'For being here.'

'Even though you think I'm a lunatic?'

'I didn't say that.'

'No, but you think it. Don't you? You think I'm living in a fantasy land.'

'I'm taking your advice,' he replied. 'I'm making whatever I like of it. And I like being here, right now, with you. So the rest can go to Hell.'

'The rest?'

'Out there,' he said, waving his arm in the general direction of the city. 'The people who used to run my life.'

'To Hell with them?'

'To Hell with them!'

Katya laughed. 'I like that,' she said, returning his kiss in the midst of their laughter.

'Where now?' he said.

'Down to the pool?' she replied.

'You know the way?'

'Trust me,' she said, kissing him again. This time he didn't let her escape so lightly, but returned her kiss with some force. His hand slipped up into her hair and made a cradle for her head. She put her arms around his waist, pressing so hard against him it was as though she wanted to climb inside his skin.

When they broke the kiss they gazed at one another for a little time.

'I thought we were going walking,' he said.

'So we were,' she said, taking his hand again. 'The pool, yes?'

'Do you want to go back to the house?'

'Plenty of time for that later,' she said. 'Let's go down to the pool while there's still some light.'