Joyce was on the phone, but once she'd finished she looked up. "I wanted to thank you," I said."You're welcome," she smiled tentatively. My voice must...have sounded strange. "What for?" Two things, actually - for telling Elise and Jess about the party" - she was all smiles -" ... and for not telling them about Laura," I added."Oh, I wouldn't!" Joyce said and was about to resume writing a note when she looked up again stricken. "Hey, wait a minute. Are they at the apartment?!"Yes, she's sharp. The tragic hero always felt death coming and had time to take stock, make amends. Life was never like that. One moment I was striding from John’s bunk with a satisfied smile on my face from a night well spent, and the next Sinead stood there in my path, sword drawn. Like me she was tall and muscled, unlike me she still had highly visible curves and her hair was so close-cropped her scalp showed, not my scraggly red mess. ‘Fuck,’ I said by way of greeting, and I couldn’t say which old self it. More

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