Discarded by M. Hunter (fantasy books to read .txt) 📗

to pick up the small chopping knife, or whether it had been subconscious, but the threat was clear.

‘I-I-I won’t give you any trouble,’ she said, pulling her knees up to her chest. ‘I-I-I promise.’

Precious seemed to accept her submission and quickly dropped the knife on the table. She reached for a packet of cigarettes on the side and lit one, inhaling and exhaling like a locomotive.

‘You want one?’ she asked when she caught Joanna watching her.

‘I don’t smoke.’

Precious located an empty cup and flicked ash into it, carrying it over to the table and reclaiming her seat. ‘Have you ever tried smoking?’

Joanna shook her head; she’d had enough warnings at school and from her parents about the dangers of smoking and cancer. She coughed as Precious’s smoke drifted across the table.

‘How do ya know whether you like something unless you try it though?’ she said, proffering the cigarette. ‘Go ahead. Give it a puff, and then make yer mind up.’

Joanna didn’t need to put the cigarette between her lips to know she wouldn’t enjoy it. The stench already clinging to her clothes and irritating her throat were enough signs.

‘Put the cigarette in your mouth and suck in,’ Precious demanded, pushing it closer to her.

Joanna thought about the way Precious had held the small knife so tightly and relented, her hand trembling as she took the cigarette between her thumb and index finger. The paper felt damp as it touched her lips, and she took a deep breath, instantly reeling and coughing the smoke back up, relieved when Precious snatched the cigarette back.

‘First inhale’s the worst,’ she said, patting Joanna on the back. ‘It gets easier, I promise. One day yer gonna be grateful to have things like this to distract ya.’

Joanna continued to cough and retch, certain she might bring up the toast, until her breathing returned to a more regular rhythm.

‘Let me know when you want another puff.’ Precious laughed mockingly as she squashed the stub into the cup, and wafted away the remaining cloud of smoke. ‘We should celebrate. My girl Kylie here has just had her first fag.’

She hurried back to the fridge-freezer, tossing the bag of peas inside and removing a half-full bottle of wine from the door. She opened one of the cupboards and withdrew two mugs, placing one in front of Joanna and pouring some of the straw-coloured liquid into it. She repeated the gesture with her own mug, filling it to the top before lifting the mug into the air.

‘A toast. To my new friend Kylie. I’m gonna teach you everything you need to know. Go on, have a drink; it’ll help soothe yer throat after the cigarette.’

Thinking about that chopping knife again, Joanna lifted the mug and clinked it against the other mug as she’d seen her father do countless times, and then held her breath as she sipped the beverage. It was sweeter than she expected.

‘Can I tell you something?’ Joanna tentatively asked.

Precious nodded with a long swig.

‘My name’s not really Kylie; that’s just what Chez decided to call me. My real name is—’

Precious slammed her mug down, wine splashing out on the table. ‘We don’t do real names here, sweetheart. You’re Kylie now, and I’m Precious, and that’s all you need to remember. Right! Now drink your drink, there’s a good girl.’

The room spun as Joanna swished and swayed in time to the music blaring from the radio while Precious did her best to sing along. It wasn’t a song Joanna knew the words to, but she recognised it as an older song, the sort her dad would play on the radio when driving at night when she and her sister should be asleep in the back of the car.

Precious, on the other hand, was managing to get most of the notes right, but the music was too loud for her to be able to hear whether she was actually in tune or not. Not that Joanna cared, as she reached and drained her second mug of the wine and scrambled for the bottle, disappointed to find it now empty.

‘Out of wine,’ she slurred, and then roared with laughter at how difficult it had been to mouth the vowel sounds. ‘I think… Am I a bit drunk? Is this what being drunk feels like?’

Precious reached the crescendo, putting her heart and soul into the final rendition of the chorus and then taking a theatrical bow as Joanna clapped and whooped for her. Precious then collapsed onto the cushioned chair behind the table, panting, and her forehead cloaked in a fine sheen that reflected the overhead light.

‘Your turn next,’ Precious wheezed. ‘We can search for other radio stations until we find a song you know. Okay? Like karaoke.’

‘I can’t sing,’ Joanna said now, putting the empty mug to her lips a second time.

‘Of course you can,’ Precious said, her breathing now returning to a regular rhythm. ‘You can do whatever you put your mind to; this place teaches you that. Things I never thought I’d be able to do, I now can. It’s all about perspective. I’ll get us some more wine.’

Precious didn’t appear to be slurring her words, but Joanna couldn’t ignore the feelings of envy starting to bubble up. Precious was so cool and confident, and nothing seemed to faze her. Fresh wine sloshed onto the table once more as Precious continued to dance, pouring more into Joanna’s mug, and then her own.

‘A toast,’ she declared, raising her mug into the air. ‘To my new best friend, Kylie.’

‘Can we go and see Chez?’ Joanna asked.

Precious shook her head. ‘I told you, he’s gone now. Best you put him out of your mind, yeah?’

‘But it wasn’t his fault. I ran off and he shouldn’t be blamed. I had a knife, so there wasn’t anything he could do to stop me.’

‘He was left in charge of you, and he screwed up. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Let’s change the subject.’

Even through her lightheadedness, Joanna could hear