She twists my arm. “Do not mutter insults at me, Catriona.”
“I wasn’t,” I say, “and I apologize if I was being rude.” I pause. “Perhaps we could have a drink, for old times’ sake.”
If this woman holds something over me, I need to be nice. Also, I’d like to know more about the young woman whose body I inhabit, and this seems an excellent opportunity to do so.
“A drink?” The woman scowls. “Is that a joke?”
Fortunately, my expression must answer for me, because she eases back, still eyeing me sharply. “You really have lost your memory. No, kitty-cat, I do not want a drink. I don’t imbibe. Neither do you, and that pieceof advice I’ll give for free. Lose yourself in a bottle, and soon you’ll be lifting your skirts for more. That’s not the life for us.”
“So whatisthe life for us?” I say. “Forget the drink. May I ask you some questions?” I take out the coin. “I can pay.”
“With two bob? That’ll buy you two words.” She makes what I presume is a rude gesture and then puts out her hand.
I pocket the coin. “How much for more?”
“I’ll give you the going rate for a high-class whore. A pound will buy you twenty minutes of my time.” She starts to walk away. “You know where to find me, kitty-cat.”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
She laughs and points at the dive bar where Catriona had been spotted the night she was attacked.
“Can I get your name?” I call after her.
She turns and puts out her hand. With a sigh, I drop the coin into it.
“Davina,” she says, closes her hand, and walks away.