Nightmares of Caitlin Lockyer

Part 85

85

"Remember, we set conditions," I told Caitlin in a low voice as we drove to the TV station, two days later. "This isn't live, they'll tape it and cut it, so there's no audience. I won't answer many questions, but I'll be there for you – for photos, too, if you like." I had misgivings about any photos or filming, but it was part of the deal. "If they ask anything that upsets you, you don't have to answer. You can end the interview when you're ready. If it gets too much, we can end it."

"If I've had enough, end it," she murmured to herself as she clutched my arm. Together, we walked into the studio buildings. I was nervous as hell and I couldn't imagine how much bigger the butterflies were in Caitlin's tummy. She'd promised to tell the story she hadn't even told me.

The receptionist's eyes widened when Caitlin gave her name, murmuring about makeup as she hurried off, waving frantically for us to follow her.

Caitlin's expression tightened. I could feel her fear through her fingers, pressed firmly into my forearm, but she didn't falter as she followed. At least she didn't draw blood this time.

A round little woman dressed all in black directed proceedings in the dressing room. "You – makeup," she barked at me, pointing at a chair in front of a mirror framed with lights. It might have looked like a starlet's dressing room in a movie, if three of the light globes hadn't blown. I sat down cautiously, resolving to raise merry hell if they turned me into a drag queen or a baby-faced teen idol.

Another black-clad girl started swiping a sponge across my cheeks, as if she was trying to sand the stubble back into my skin. I'd shaved this morning, so it wasn't like it was too bad today.

"Right, get her undressed. We'll try the blue first…" I looked at the room reflected in front of me. The round woman stood with her hands on her hips as three other girls circled Caitlin like a flock of magpies – a combination of sweet song and sharp beaks.

Hands plucked at her shirt. Caitlin shrank away, her arms curled across her body. "No, please…" Her eyes were wide with terror and turned to me. "Please…"

I stood up and shooed the magpie girls away as I strode through them. "Let me help you, angel," I said softly. I took her shaking hands in mine and touched my lips to hers.

"Need to get changed," twittered one of the girls. I didn't turn to see which one.

My eyes never leaving Caitlin's, I shifted my fingers to her shirt. I smoothly undid the buttons and slid the shirt off her shoulders. There were gasps as the girls saw the scars on Caitlin's back, but I ignored them for my eyes were busy holding hers. I eased it down, baring her arms and her bra, and I heard a muffled sob from one of the nameless girls. "Angel, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. You don't have to tell this story to anyone. I can take you home if you want." I took her hands again and kissed her fingers.

Caitlin's eyes were dark, dry wells. Her tone was equally deep. "No. I can do this." She pulled her hands from mine and gritted her teeth as she undid her pants, letting them slide to the floor. Her pink underwear matched her scars perfectly

In the mirror behind her, I saw the shaken round woman say, "Not…not the blue. Too much skin. The mulberry, I think…" Even her voice shook.

One of the girls nodded, wiping her eyes, as she hung the blue dress up and reached for something in purple. The room was so silent I heard her every footstep on the vinyl until she passed the purple dress to me.

I helped Caitlin slip the dress over her head, the skirt falling to just below her knees.

"May I?" asked a quiet voice beside me.