Earthly Delights Read Online Free PDF Page A

and one needs permission to inhale.
    I waved to Meroe and squeezed past a man in a black velvet suit with a ruffled shirt. He had long blond hair and amazing, almost black eyes.
    ‘I’m a vampire,’ he said politely. ‘My gift is death.’
    ‘That’s nice,’ I replied. It was going to be an odd day. I privately assumed that the vampire called himself Lestat or Armand and was clinically insane. But I got out unbitten and went back to Earthly Delights, spacious by comparison.
    Kylie had been replaced by Gossamer. It was no use trying to describe either of them by mundane things like hair or eye colour. These could change overnight. At the moment Gossamer had greenish hair and bright green contacts. Shelooked rather like Professor Dion’s nymph. A tree nymph. A dryad, that was it. This morning Kylie had had pink hair and her own eyes, which are blue. Or so I believe. The only way I could be sure about their identity was their navels, which were always on display. Kylie had a silver ring with a blue stone in it in hers, which is round and flat. Gossamer has a gold ring in hers, and it tends to have a lip on the upper rim. I checked. Gold and lip, Gossamer. Otherwise they really could be twins.
    ‘I got the books,’ she announced. ‘Some of them were in Greek! And Kylie’s gone for the shopping. Poor old Prof. Did you hear the goss? Another junkie’s OD’d in the lane.’
    ‘In the alley?’ I asked, feeling like Lady Macbeth. ‘Oh woe, alas, what, in my house? Twice?’ Gossamer scorned this comment.
    ‘As if! The lane, Flinders Lane. Outside the leather place. Ms Dread was real upset.’
    I could not imagine this. Mistress Dread ran a select studio selling leather garments to the discerning customer and what she had seen in her shop should have insulated her against anything. She lived in 2B (Venus), opposite the girls. It was always a shock meeting Mistress Dread in plain clothes. She preferred quiet country casuals and expensive shoes. I had no idea if she was a man or a woman, biologically speaking, and it was none of my business. In her tweed skirt and brogues she looked like an English countrywoman out for a ramble—one looked for the Labrador and the green gumboots. When she was dressed in her leather corset and fishnets, fully six inches taller, she was terrifying. Even without the whip.
    Calling her Ms Dread was either Gossamer’s attempt at sly humour or a sign of profound stupidity. I could never decide which.
    ‘Is the junkie dead?’
    ‘Dunno. They took him away in the ambulance. The cops have been round asking questions. They want to talk to you about the one this morning. Isn’t this exciting?’
    I decided. Stupidity. But she is very young and I should not be judgmental. I was definitely an idiot when I was eighteen. I mean, I fell in love with a drummer in a garage rock band. A drummer, I ask you. It is always possible that Gossamer may grow a brain and, anyway, they do say that prolonged starvation lowers the IQ.
    ‘Did the policeman say when he was coming to see me?’
    ‘She’s here,’ said a voice from the door.
    Oops. I turned around. A neat, uniformed, middle-aged woman was not smiling at me. I toyed with the idea of explaining that my speech patterns had been formed at an age when policewomen didn’t exist and then I decided not to. This was just business.
    ‘You want to talk to me? I’m Corinna Chapman. What can I do for you, officer?’
    ‘My name is Senior Constable White. I understand that you called an ambulance this morning to an overdose? Can you show me where it happened please, Ms Chapman?’
    She laid an emphasis on the Ms which I did not miss.
    ‘This way.’ I waved at Gossamer to keep selling bread and led her out of the shop and into Calico Alley, where I unlocked the bakery doors.
    ‘Nice locks,’ she approved.
    ‘We need them. Come in, please. I opened the door at five am to let the cats out,’ I explained as the off-duty Heckle and Jekyll blinked up from