Read Online Perfections by Kirstyn McDermott - Free Book Online Page A

towards the staircase where Ryan disappeared too long ago. The band that’s playing isn’t the one his friends are in. He’s gone to find out when they’ll be on.
    ‘You look thirsty,’ the boy yells at her again. ‘Thirsty and hot.’
    ‘I’m not drinking tonight,’ she says. Not tonight, not ever if she can avoid it. She hates the way alcohol makes her feel. Light-headed and loose. Disconnected from everything, including herself. ‘Thanks anyway.’
    But he’s already on his feet. ‘S’kay, I’ll get you a Coke then.’
    Jacqueline starts to protest, but he’s already making his way towards the bar. Long and lanky, his limbs move as though they’re attached to strings. The girl on the adjacent couch begins to laugh, a harsh and barking sound. ‘Don’t sweat it; Scott totally crushes on newbs.’ She’s lying on her back, legs hooked over the arm of the couch and swinging gently. Her skirt puddles in her lap. Her calves are smooth and well-defined, criss-crossed by the strappy Egyptian-style sandals she’s wearing.
    Jacqueline leans closer. ‘Jane, isn’t it?’
    The girl shakes her head. She wears dreadlocks, like Ryan, only hers are shorter and multicoloured. ‘ Zane . With a Z.’
    ‘Sorry,’ Jacqueline says. ‘I must have misheard.’
    The girl shrugs, as though it doesn’t really matter, but there’s a keen, catlike gleam in her eyes. ‘So you’re this big shot gallery chick, right?’
    ‘My boss is the big shot. I just do his dirty work.’
    ‘You reckon he might be interested in someone other’n Ryan?’
    ‘I don’t know, I can’t really speak for–’
    ‘Hang on, look.’ Zane swings her legs around and sits up. She undoes the drawstring on the patchwork pouch she wears slung across her chest and pulls out a handful of photographs. Passes them to Jacqueline. Her fingernails are short and grimy. Her cuticles are ragged. ‘My website’s on the back, yeah?’
    The light’s dim up here and tinted scarlet, making it hard for Jacqueline to discern much detail from prints which appear second-rate to begin with. Shots of boxes, and open suitcases, filled with a variety of different objects. Dolls, or parts of dolls, and scissors clutter one of them. Another seems filled with brightly coloured shapes and shiny pieces of metal. ‘You’re a photographer?’
    Zane shakes her head. ‘No, see, I make what’s in the photos. But you really need to look at them for real, you know? You need to be in the same space. I thought maybe while you were up here, you might like to check them out.’
    Jacqueline shuffles through the photos, flips one of them over. The website address appears to have been stamped on by hand, letter by individual letter. ‘I can certainly pass these on to my boss. He’s always looking for new work.’
    ‘Look, I know the photos are crap. But if you just came by . . .’
    ‘I’m not sure I’ll have time. I’m just here for Ryan.’
    ‘What if I bring a couple of them to you?’ Zane leans forward. Hunger pinches her face. ‘Where you staying?’
    Jacqueline tries not to recoil. ‘Ah, I’m not sure that–’
    ‘Give it up, Zaney.’ The boy, Scott, sidles between them with drinks in hand. ‘No one cares about your stupid puzzle boxes.’ He places one of the glasses on the table in front of Jacqueline. ‘One Coke for the lady, straight up.’
    ‘They’re not puzzle boxes!’ Scowling, the girl aims a kick at him. Misses and hits the table instead. The glass wobbles and Jacqueline reaches to steady it, the photographs dropping to the floor as she does.
    ‘Scott, you dick,’ Zane snaps. She crouches beside Jacqueline’s legs to pick up the scattered prints. ‘They’re not puzzle boxes,’ she says again. ‘They’re more like dioramas, but complicated, you know. Layered. You should see them.’ She offers the photos to Jacqueline, thrusts them towards her.
    ‘Zane, put those away.’ The voice is sudden and commanding, and Jacqueline turns to see