Perfect Kill. Helen Fields

pitch. ‘How the fuck could you ever think that was okay?’ She turned, tried to pick up the kettle but slopped boiling water across the tops of the mugs and her hand.

      ‘Ava, stop, please,’ Natasha said, standing and walking round the table towards her.

      ‘No,’ Ava said. ‘If you’re here, it’s because it’s bad news, and I can’t hear it, Tasha. God help me, I know it’s you going through this, not me, but I can’t have anything happen to you. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t stand it.’

      Natasha wrapped her arms around Ava’s shoulders, holding her tight.

      ‘I couldn’t have this conversation before I knew for sure what it was. You’d have made the same choice. It was less painful not to think too hard about it. I knew you’d want to come to every appointment with me, ask every question, cross-examine the doctors, but I just wanted to let it all happen without a fight.’

      ‘How bad?’ Ava whispered into her friend’s hair.

      ‘Bad, but not hopeless. I won’t give you all the medical terms. I’ve driven myself mad looking it all up already. It’s stage two. I’ll need another operation, chemo, maybe radiation therapy, then they’ll review again and see how I’m doing.’ She stepped back, wiping tears from Ava’s face with her thumbs.

      ‘Oh holy shit. I’m so sorry I shouted at you. I’m such an idiot. You came here because you needed me, and I …’

      ‘Actually, I came here for you to yell at me and get it out of your system. You’re nothing if not predictable,’ she grinned.

      ‘Go to hell,’ Ava said, more tears falling. ‘Tasha, I have to ask.’

      ‘It’s all right,’ Natasha said. ‘Roughly speaking, there’s a fifty per cent survival rate for the type of cancer I have at this stage. It’s nowhere else in my body yet which is the good news. Apparently my aunt had it too, so there’s a family history to take into account, although I found out about that, as ever, when it was too late for a heads-up.’

      ‘So you’ve told your parents then?’ Natasha nodded. ‘How were they with you?’

      ‘Well, they managed not to ask if it was something I’d caught because I’m a lesbian, so I guess that was progress.’ She laughed, and Ava’s kitchen rang with the hollowness of it. ‘They were shocked, I think, but told me they’re sure I’ll be fine. Not what I wanted to hear, oddly. I mean, I want people to be reassuring, but it’s so bland when it happens like that. Almost dismissive, like they can’t cope with the reality so it’s an easy line to trot out.’

      Ava sighed.

      ‘Still want that tea?’ she asked.

      ‘Damn right I do. I can’t drink booze at the moment, so tea’s about my only decent option.’ Ava busied herself with the mugs and teabags. ‘Anyway, I’m here to ask you to just stand by me, I suppose. At the moment, I’m not quite sure what’s ahead. I have another appointment at the hospital tomorrow to agree a treatment plan. I know you’re busy with your caseload but …’

      ‘I’ll be there,’ Ava said. ‘Whatever you need. Just message me about the time. I’ll drive you.’

      ‘You don’t have to go that far,’ Natasha smiled, taking the offered mug and sitting back down at the kitchen table with it.

      ‘Oh, that’s just because you’re a liability on the road already. I honestly can’t let the general public be put at risk if you’re even more distracted than usual.’ Ava sat opposite her.

      ‘Fuck you,’ Natasha grinned.

      ‘I love you,’ Ava retorted. ‘And I’m so ashamed about how I reacted. I wasn’t angry at you.’

      ‘I know that.’ Natasha reached across and took Ava’s hand in hers. ‘Do you remember when we were fourteen and that little gobshite Barry Beckwith told everyone he’d put his hand up my skirt? I came to you crying. Everyone was gossiping about it, and I thought my life was basically over.’

      ‘I screamed at you because you hadn’t punched him in the face as soon as you found out. Did you have to remind me?’ Ava laughed.

      ‘The next day, Barry turned up at whatever awful party we were at, with a black eye and a cut lip, telling everyone he’d been mugged for his backpack. I knew it was you, even though you never admitted it.’

      ‘I hated seeing you hurt like that.’ Ava smiled gingerly. ‘I still do. At least I could just go and punch Barry Beckwith. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?’

      ‘Hold my hand, make me laugh, give me space when I ask for it. What actually did happen with Barry then?’

      ‘I called at his house, flirted with him, told him I wanted to do the same as he’d done with you. He invited me up to his bedroom, and as soon as he closed his door I smacked him in the face. He tried to grab me to stop me from leaving, so I headbutted him, only he was quite a few inches taller than me, so I only contacted his lip. I knew he’d never have the balls to admit he’d been beaten up by a girl, so I wasn’t worried. He had tears in his eyes as I left, which I figured was almost good enough payment for what he’d done to you.’

      ‘I’m so glad we’ve always been friends. Mainly because as an enemy you’re terrifying.’

      ‘Whatever happens, I’ll be at your side,’ Ava said softly, the laughter gone. ‘You can’t leave me, Natasha. I won’t let you.’

      ‘Not even you can control this one,’ she replied. ‘But I appreciate the fact that you’re going to try, more than you could possibly know.’

       Chapter Ten

      Elenuta held a bag of ice against Anika’s cheek and waited for the girl to stop crying. Most of the men, and a few women, who visited Finlay’s establishment were there for something much less honest than plain old sex. They wanted to violate. Knowing that it was non-consensual was part of what they were buying. Getting away with throwing a few punches, the odd hand around the throat, sticking rough fingers wherever they liked, that was all included in the price too. Paying good money for a chance to express their hatred and rage in physical terms with no comeback was a given. The last bastard had gone too far with Anika though. She had fingermarks on both thighs where her legs had been held open, multiple grazes across her throat where rings had tugged at her delicate skin, and a lump coming up on her face that would take two weeks to reduce.

      One of Finlay’s men came in, stared around the room at the four women crowded in there, syringe in hand.

      ‘This’ll make you feel better,’ he said gruffly.

      ‘She doesn’t need that,’ Elenuta said. ‘I look after her.’

      ‘Boss’s orders, don’t mess,’ the goon muttered.

      Anika stared glassily at the syringe, then gave a weak nod, holding out her arm.

      Elenuta took her hand, tried to pull her away.

      ‘Don’t,’ she whispered. ‘Anika, let me help you.’

      ‘You’ll get the same treatment if you don’t keep your nose out,’ Elenuta was told. The man shoved her away from Anika.

      She watched as the needle pierced the girl’s skin, plunging its oblivion into her nervous system. Anika’s sobs turned into a groan, then a sigh. Silence.

      ‘Why?’ Elenuta asked the man, as he withdrew the needle and checked Anika’s pupils.

      ‘Finlay’s fed up with her crying. She won’t last. Too fragile for his liking. He’s decided to race her next month. Believe me, a little bit of smack’s not going to hurt her.’

      Elenuta stared at him. Most of the guards refused to enter into conversations with the women. This