The Dangers of Female Provocation by Zoe Coyle

Author:Zoe Coyle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ultimo Press
Published: 2023-03-16T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

PETER RUBS AT HIS chin as Odessa turns the key in her front door lock. His face looks chafed and old.

‘Come on and I’ll fix you a drink, Peter.’ Odessa moves inside and steps back to make way for him. His eyes are glazed and his hands are shoved low in his pockets. He looks back to the quiet street and Odessa presses him. ‘Come on in. I’m your friend. Looks like you need a friend.’ He nods and steps inside. ‘Go on up.’ He hesitates, then takes on the stairs as if they are a mountain. Odessa shuts the front door and closes her eyes.

She looks at her face in the hall mirror and runs her fingers along her brows, then tidies up her eyeliner. She notices that her eyes look a different shape. Feline. She removes her coat and buttons up her cardigan. She slips off her heels and pads silently up the stairs. Peter is standing a few steps into the room, marooned. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ she says. He doesn’t respond. ‘Take a seat, Peter. Whisky?’

He nods and looks around as if he has never been there. It is a first; it is the first time he has ever been here alone with Odessa. He goes to the window and looks out. Odessa turns on the stereo and he jumps as the music starts to play.

‘Relax. Sit down.’ She indicates the sofa and excuses herself with, ‘I’ll go and find Ian.’ She glides across the room and then pounces up the stairs two at a time. Reaching the third floor, she ducks through her bedroom and the dressing room into the ensuite. Under the sink she opens the box marked Medicines with a red cross emblazoned on the lid. She finds the Stilnox and tucks a sheet of it into the sleeve of her cardigan then walks out. She is startled to see Paloma lying on her back in the middle of the bed, her belly and pelvis exposed to the heavens. Something about the image turns Odessa’s stomach. Paloma cocks her head to stare at Odessa and a chill runs through the room.

Odessa scrunches up her face, then takes the stairs back to the sitting room. Peter is still standing by the window.

‘Ian is fast asleep, I’m sorry. He’s been seriously flat-chat at work. So, you’ll have to make do with me. Can you light the fire while I sort out the drinks?’

‘What was that?’ he asks, not hearing from a far-off place she hopes is called His Conscience.

‘The fire,’ she points, and he goes to it. She takes two crystal tumblers from the cupboard and a spoon from the drawer. Making sure he is not watching, she presses out two Stilnox from the sheath, crushes them with the back of the spoon and sweeps them into his glass. From the drinks trolley she takes the very best Scotch and pours three fingers in his and one in hers. She adds water to her own.

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