For her part, Annie seemed unbothered to be back on Lena’s creaky bed, her hair swishing against the grimy wall. Seemed extremely bothered by the fact Lena had been expertly laid by the hottest member of the Australian squattocracy.

‘Look, I’m happy you got yours, Leen, I really am, but the thing is? Every boy in that college? A literal dog.’

‘Absolutely positive it was a human man I just rode.’

‘Nope. A literal dog, generated by a long, long line of literal dogs. That’s how they’re so good at tricking people into thinking they’re human. All that knowledge passed down from dog father to dog son. I feel responsible, I really do. I knew you were crushing, but if I thought you’d move this fast and … Well, it’s done now. Just put it down to experience and move on with gratitude that he didn’t give you chlamydia or something.’ Annie’s eyes widened and she lurched forward, her always-straight back like a gently falling plank, the front of her paper-thin white t-shirt hovering millimetres over the bedspread as she gripped Lena’s knees. ‘Shit, Leen, what if he gave you chlamydia or something! You need to get tested, like now.’

‘Oh my god. Calm down. We used a condom.’

‘I would seriously get checked anyway. Those boys are nasty.’

‘I actually can’t believe how much you’re flipping out over this.’

‘I can’t believe you’re not! You know what they’re like over there. The whole country knows what they’re like. A bunch of shit-smearing, bullying, racist rapists.’

‘Not all of them. Not Josh. If you knew him you’d see that.’

‘I bloody hope you’re right.’

‘I am. Believe me. I’m an excellent judge of character.’

Finally a smile. ‘You did befriend me, after all.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Okay, slut. You’ve got the night off work and a fine post-orgasm glow. We going to get hammered or what?’

Having skived off work she would be broker than usual next week. But that was next week and Annie was right: she was glowing, didn’t even need to look in a mirror to know it. Time to celebrate her Josh-infusion.

NIC

NIC

There is something under the bed that she cannot make out. It’s silver-ish. Silver but dull. Silver but dull is grey, isn’t it? This thing is not grey, though. Silver, yes, and sort of sharp-looking? Two sharp points she can see over the top of a box she has not looked in for years. Not sharp like knives; sharp in shape but not likely to do any damage. Plastic, probably, which explains the dullness of the silver. Dull colour, dull blades. Okay, yes. Silver, plastic, two sharp points that appear not to be smooth along their sides. Little nodules or bumps or—