And All the Stars Read Online Free

Street, trailing her along the spiked metal fence of
the Botanic Gardens, and fading completely as she neared the eastern border of
the parkland known as The Domain and found the stairs leading off the promontory
down to Woolloomooloo. The dust cloud
was starting to thin and she could see a good portion of the seaside suburb
below. Bracketed by two peninsulas – one
park and one naval base – the bay was narrow and entirely dominated by Finger
Wharf, with its long stretch of teal and white apartments, and row of
impressive boats moored alongside. The
water was as pale as the choking sky, a sluggish swell only occasionally
breaking the surface layer of dust apart. It made Madeleine wonder how far west Sydney's dams were.
    A row of compact, expensive restaurants sat at the street end
of the Wharf, their outdoor seating areas an icing-dusted display of half-eaten
meals and overturned chairs. Every
shutter was closed, every door sealed, and through the glass she could see more
collections of the trapped, crowded together, sitting on the floor, huddled in
despairing clumps. Staring back at her.
    Even when the cloud
settled, the dust would still be everywhere. How would anyone get home without kicking it up? How could they get rid of it all?
    There was at least no difficulty getting into Tyler's
apartment. The electronic key to the
residents' section of the central walkway gave her no trouble, and then she was
unlocking his door, dropping her backpack, suddenly in a hurry to turn on the
shower, to stand fully clothed in a blast of steaming water and watch her
violet dress return to its original white and blue. A trembling weakness followed, because
shedding that powder coat left her like the others: trapped and fearful. All she had now was the wait for the dying to
start.
    Shaking, staring down at the tinted water draining away,
Madeleine's attention was caught by her feet, narrow in strappy sandals. There was a crescent of carmine beneath the
nail of her right big toe and for a moment she could only stare at it blankly,
but then she was curling down, hitting her shoulder on the tap in her haste,
scrabbling for soap, a nail brush, needing to erase a thing far more immediate
than suspicious powder.
    By the time no hint of blood remained, her toe was scoured
red and her breath came in short, sharp pants. And then she coughed and spat glittering flecks, and laughed, and
sobbed. Lucky! She was so lucky! She was not lying broken, was not a wet,
shapeless bundle, a leaking horror to be crawled across and left behind in the
dark. She had received a gift of life, a
mayfly fortune, precious however temporary.
    She would not waste it.

Chapter Three
    On non-dusty days
Tyler's three-bedroom corner apartment commanded a spectacular view of water,
park and city skyline, though the headland blocked any glimpse of the Opera
House or Harbour Bridge. The previous
weekend, when Madeleine's father had driven her in to drop off her supplies,
she hadn't dared do more than tuck easel, canvas stretchers and paints against
the near wall of the sunny main room. She'd only met Tyler a handful of times since he'd returned to Australia
and found massive success playing a witch on a new TV series about vampire
detectives. She'd had no intention of
jeopardising their sittings by prying.
    Now, hair wrapped
in a towel, she took his cordless phone and dialled and redialled while
glancing around the open lounge and dining area, then checking out the two
spare bedrooms, one utilitarian and the other converted into a shelf-lined
office. The master bedroom was spare and
tidy and looked like something out of a designer's catalogue. It was only in the massive walk-in wardrobe
that she found any sign of personality, and there it overflowed.
    One of her earliest
memories was of Tyler in a sunhat, face hidden by the broad brim. He obviously still favoured them, had a dozen
variations on hooks high around the room. Below were a profusion of jewel-tone scarves, glimmering