“And a weirdo... He likes you, Lyds, or he wouldn’t work with you.”
I finished my drink. “He’s private, I get that.”
“Sheesh, yeah. It’ll take a bloody lifetime for you two to get to know each other, Private and Privater hanging out in Private-ville.”
“We aren’t hanging out anywhere, it’s all about work.”
“All work and no play makes James and Lydia very fucking dull indeed.”
I laughed. “Am I dull? Really?”
“Nah, just... focused.”
“That’s dull, isn’t it?”
“No... yes... a little. But hey, if it floats your pretty little boat.”
“It doesn’t. I need to get out.” I rubbed my temples, willing the blow-out memory away. I left Bex to it, all ready to go ditch the work outfit and veg in my PJs but she called me back.
“Say, Lyds. I’m off down the Dev tonight, if you fancied coming. It’s cool there, they even pour pentagrams on your Guinness.”
“Pentagrams on your Guinness? Doesn’t sound like I’d fit in too well.”
“You’d be fine.”
I pondered in the doorway, my bedroom cold and still and empty without that bloody project file to keep me occupied. “What would I wear?”
“Little black dress, I’m sure you’ve got one.”
I weighed it up, back and forth in my mind, empty room or goth pub, empty room or goth pub. “I could come for a bit.”
The smile on her face told me she hadn’t expected it. Was I really that dull? Maybe I was.
Time to put dull, boring Lydia in the bin where she belonged.
***
Bex had a nudity habit: the constant desire to wander around with little to no clothes on without even the slightest hint of self-consciousness. I’d grown surprisingly used to it, and didn’t even flinch when she appeared stark naked and dripping wet, holding up two almost identical looking dresses for my opinion. Her tattoos stopped at her shoulders, leaving her pale skin untouched and unblemished to the belly button, where a Celtic pattern swirled down to her pubic hair, if she’d had any. She didn’t. I pointed to the dress on the left, a black PVC number with spikes all down the front.
“You sure?” she said. “Spikes not buckles?”
“Spikes. Definitely. You wore buckles last week.”
“Well remembered.” She looked me up and down, then scowled at my feet. “Lovely dress, wrecked by the footwear. What size are you?”
I looked at my cute little heels, wondering how they could possibly be so offensive. “Seven.” She threw me over a pair of obscenely tall knee-highs. “Really?! I’ll fall.”
“I’ll hold you up. Trust me, you’ll look hot.”
“You going to try and set me up with some sexy, goth stud?” I laughed.
“If you want.”
I sighed, bending down to zip up the new boots. “I’m not sure quite what I want.”
“You want sex. A filthy fuck is a tonic for almost anything, I find.”
“I wouldn’t know. Things went a little stale with Stu after a few years.”
“Then you definitely want sex.” She shimmied into her dress, pulling it up tight. Her cleavage looked amazing, like some kind of porn star rack. She layered on her make-up and laced up her boots, then checked and re-checked herself in the mirror from every angle. The doorbell rang, a noise I’d never actually heard. “That’ll be Cara.”
“Your girlfriend?”
“My sub. She’s heard all about you. I’ll leave her waiting awhile, she knows the drill.”
“Your sub?”
“Submissive. She’s kind of like a girlfriend without the girlfriend bit. Sex, basically. She likes me to hurt her.”
My mouth turned dry, images of her bedroom flashing before my eyes. “Hurt her, like spank her?”
“Spank her, whip her, paddle her... make her cry then kiss it all better again,” she laughed. “Never tried it?”
I shook my head. “Stuart wasn’t really that way inclined.”
“And what about you?”
“The avenue never really presented itself.”
“Shame.” She waited a few more seconds, fastened up a studded collar. “Oh, by the way, Cara calls me Raven. Most people do.”
“Raven... right.” I assigned it to memory.
“You can be Cat. You have cat’s eyes.”
“Can’t I just use my own name?” I said. “Is it some kind of special code or something? Is Cara’s name really Cara?”
“No, it’s Penelope, but don’t tell her I told you. You’ll soon get into the name thing. Cat suits you anyway.”
My stomach lurched as I recalled where I’d heard that before.
***
Cara was pretty little creature, with gorgeous dark hair and chocolate brown eyes. She stood waiting in the doorway, knees tight together and head slightly bowed. She had stockings on under her black dress, high enough to see the lace tops. Her skin was goose-pimpled from