Page 197 of The Bone Season

‘It’s honest work, but not for me. Good thing I spotted you,’ he added. ‘You look far more interesting.’ He accepted his drink. ‘What do you do?’

‘I work in an oxygen bar.’

‘Ah. I’ve always been curious,’ he said. ‘What do waitrons do in those places?’

‘Clean the equipment, chat to the customers, run social events, that sort of thing. But the bottom line is just … watching people breathe.’

‘Better or worse than watching paint dry?’

‘Marginally worse. Your friends over there probablyaremore interesting.’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘That’ll be nine bob and a penny,’ the waitron said curtly. Reuben and I both handed our coin over. ‘Can I see your identity card, young lady?’

I flashed my fake one from Leon. With a curt nod, he went back to cleaning out the glasses, but he kept an eye on me as I sipped my drink.

This man could not shake his suspicion that I was the Pale Dreamer. I rarely visited II Cohort, but about a month ago, Jaxon had sent me to broker a deal with a local gang called the Hempen Widows. Quite a few people had been at that meeting.

‘Hey,’ I said to Reuben, ‘do you want to dance?’

‘Sure.’

He threw back his drink and followed me into the gloom.

Fortunately, I knew how to dance. Eliza had taken me out with her enough times. Reuben was decent, too. For a while, I forgot what had happened with Nick and listened to the soulless music, approved by the Ministry of Arts. It vibrated in my very bones, filing away the æther.

After a while, Reuben drew me in, cradling my hips. I linked my arms around his neck, feeling his breath on my face, scented with apples. His stubble brushed my jaw. He drew back a little, looking at me.

‘Do you want to go somewhere?’

It was now or never. Somehow, I had worked the same charm as Eliza. I nodded.

Reuben linked his fingers through mine and led me through the crowd, towards the toilets. He opened the door to a cloakroom. Before I could so much as breathe, he had taken me against the wall and kissed me. I smelled cigarettes and sweat, cheap aftershave.

I had never been kissed before. I wasn’t sure if I liked it. He tasted of honey and mecks. A freckled hand came to cup my breast. Little by little, I grew used to the feeling, reaching up to grasp his shoulders.

When he started to unbuckle his belt, I almost stopped him. This was too much, too fast – but this was exactly what Eliza did, and she usually looked happier for it.

It was just sex. Just fun, just sweet abandon. No strings and no promises. I needed to be seen, desired. For a minute, I needed this stranger to think only of me. For a minute, I would become his world.

Reuben wanted me. I felt that. Yet as his other hand glided up the inside of my leg, as he nibbled along my jaw, every instinct told me to stop. I didn’t know why I doing this. How had I ended up here, with a stranger?

Now he was on his knees before me, hiking my dress up to my waist. He pressed another kiss to my bare stomach, warm against my skin.

‘You didn’t tell me your name.’ He traced the edge of my underwear. ‘Who are you, girl from Piccadilly?’

‘Eva,’ I whispered.

He slid my underwear down to my knees. I shivered, closing my eyes. I didn’t know him. I didn’t want him. I didn’t know what I was doing here.

‘Do you want me, Eva?’

‘Yes.’

Reuben reached up to touch me, taste me. Before he could, I pulled him up and crushed my lips back to his. He made a low sound in his throat.

I was covered in goosebumps now. Surely I was ready. While Reuben fumbled with his trousers, I pushed his shirt, allowing me to check his bare arm for the mark of a contraceptive injection. It was faded – he needed a booster soon – but still there. It would have to do.

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