“You think I can sleep with you gawking at me like that?”
Sally-Anne slipped on her boots and grabbed her leather jacket off the back of a chair. May sighed.
“I don’t like it when you ride at night.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be nice and careful.”
“That’d be a first. Stay. I’ll make you a cup of tea,” May insisted. She rose and draped a sheet over her naked body, crossing their living space. The kitchen nook was little more than a sad-looking portable gas stove, a handful of mismatched plates and glasses, and two porcelain mugs on a wooden table near a tiny sink.
Holding the sheet with one hand, May struggled awkwardly to make the tea. She filled the kettle, stood on her tiptoes, fumbled for the tin box full of Lipton teabags, plucked two sugar cubes from a terra-cotta pot, and struck a match to light the gas stove. Sally-Anne didn’t lift a finger.
“Well, don’t come rushing in to help me!”
“I was waiting to see if you could manage with only one hand,” Sally-Anne replied, grinning playfully. May shrugged and let the sheet drop to the ground.
“Be a dear and put it back on the bed. I can’t stand dusty sheets.”
After pouring tea for them both, May came back to sit cross-legged on the mattress.
“We’ve received the invitations,” Sally-Anne revealed.
“When?”
“Yesterday. I stopped by the post office to have a look, and there they were.”
“And you didn’t think of telling me sooner?”
“We were having a good time, and I thought you’d spend the rest of the night thinking about it.”
“A good time? All these piss-poor political conversations are tedious at best and unbearable at worst. The guys we’ve been running with lately are a pain in the ass, going on and on about changing the world when all they do is get stoned. So, sorry to say, I wasn’t exactly having the night of my life to begin with. Can I see them?”
Sally-Anne reached into her jacket pocket and casually tossed the invitations onto the bed. May tore through one of the envelopes, noting, as she did, the surface of the elegant paper and admiring the embossed letters bearing her fake name. But then her eyes fell on the date of the party . . . only two weeks away. The women would be decked out in extravagant gowns and their finest jewelry. All the men would be wearing absurdly over-the-top costumes, aside from a handful of grumpy older guests in simple tuxedos and domino masks, refusing to play along.
“I’ve never been so excited about a masquerade ball in my entire life,” May snickered.
“My dear, you never cease to amaze me. I thought seeing the invitations would make you anxious.”
“Well, you thought wrong. That was the old me. Just setting foot in that house again changed everything. As we left the estate, I promised myself I was never going to let those people scare me again.”
“May . . .”
“You know what? Go out and wander the night, or come to bed with me . . . Just make up your mind. I’m tired.”
Sally-Anne picked up the dropped bedsheet and draped it over May. Then she quickly undressed and stretched out naked on the mattress next to her. She gazed at May with the same playful grin.
“What is it now?” asked May.
“Nothing. Just noticing how cute you are when you’re vindictive.”
May was silent for a moment. “I want to tell you something. It’s personal, I’m just speaking for myself here, but you should know. I’ll never let them take me alive.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You know exactly what it means. And life is too short to look back, or dwell on sadness or regret.”
“Hey, look me in the eye. You’re making a huge mistake here, May. If it’s just revenge you’re after, it gives them way too much power, too much importance. Think of it this way: we’re simply taking something from people who didn’t deserve it in the first place.”