They practise downstairs in the basement of a squat and soon Cynthia’s demented love-crazed genius begins to produce powerful results. They develop into the most violently beautiful country punk band ever to see the light of day, sounding somewhere between Extreme Noise Terror and Loretta Lynn.
Soon they are playing local gigs and making a name for themselves. Cynthia, verging on success, has friends and admirers everywhere. Almost happy, she no longer feels the urge to rip people apart and eat them, even on the brightest of full moons. Standing onstage, singing and playing, with feedback whining all around and her Stetson perched on top of her head, she is as contented as she has ever been. When the band play the song she has written about Paris the audience riot in appreciation.
Only her lingering heartache over Paris prevents her from being completely satisfied. But while in the real world lovers never return, and stories about people who go out and win back their lovers are all lies, Cynthia, being a mythical being, is not strictly bound by these rules.
One night, after a gig in which representatives from several record companies are seen enjoying themselves in the audience, Paris walks into the dressing room.
‘I heard your song about me,’ he tells her. ‘It was wonderful. I realise now that I have always loved you. Please take me back.’
Cynthia is overjoyed. Really she should hate Paris for all the misery he has caused her, and certainly she should at least give him a hard time about the whole thing, but she is in fact too happy to bother. She embraces him passionately, and takes him home.
Back in her flat she slips the soul necklace round his neck again and they go to bed. They fuck for hours on end. Paris is still not all that good a lover, but Cynthia knows she can improve things, given time.
And ever afterwards, Cynthia and Paris are famous for being a happy couple, immune to the stupidity and misery of the world around them. The band goes from strength to strength, and Cynthia is never ever lonely again.
‘What do you think?’ I ask Ruby. She says she doesn’t really think much of it, but she doesn’t mind if it makes me happy. It seems like a big improvement to me.
‘We have lost sixty-nine pounds,’ I say, back in the flat.
‘Never mind,’ says Ruby. ‘I’ll think of some way to get money.’
We have a long silence.
‘Cis never came.’
‘There wasn’t any chance she would.’
‘I know. But I would have liked her to hear my song.’
Ruby makes me some tea.
‘My life has seemed strange recently.’
Ruby says she has noticed.
‘You remember you said you always feel better in time?’
‘Yes.’
‘I feel worse.’
‘That can happen as well.’
Right.
Ruby shrugs. I am empty-headed. My whole body is hollow and without feeling. No, I am lying. There are little bits here that don’t feel too good. I imagine that Ruby is feeling immense pain inside about Domino, messing her around all the time. I’m not entirely sure if she is. I do not know if it is really possible to know what anyone else is feeling. Maybe she is just hollow as well.
‘Ruby, could you tell me something optimistic and cheerful before I go to bed?’
‘My knee is feeling better.’
‘So is mine.’
I am a little cheered.
‘And we are good friends,’ says Ruby, smiling.
‘Yes. You are the best friend I ever had.’
‘Do you remember the can-opener? And all those beans?’
We start to laugh. We laugh and laugh till Ruby starts to roll on the floor and complain about her sides hurting. We laugh about nothing till we are completely worn out.
Then we kiss and go to bed. Ruby has the best bedroom, because she got here first, but I would have let her have it anyway. A friend like Ruby is hard to find.
My cactus thrives although Ruby’s never flowers. Despite this she later moves out to live with Domino. After a while they have a terminal argument and she goes back to live with her parents. We lose touch.
I find a job as a library assistant in a college and I am quite well suited to this, sitting quietly behind a counter stamping books, watching the students. Without Ruby’s support I stop squatting and start paying rent. I miss Ruby terribly. And I miss the spaceman and Tilka and Ascanazl and the flowers and the old woman who is never on the balcony anymore and the mad schemes for making money and the robots and the art class and everything else. Most of all I miss Cis. I see her sometimes walking in the street and sometimes on her bicycle, but I never talk to her.
LONELY WEREWOLF GIRL
As teenage werewolf Kalix MacRinnalch is pursued through the streets of London by murderous hunters, her sister, the Werewolf Enchantress, is busy designing clothes for the Fire Queen. Meanwhile, in the Scottish Highlands, the MacRinnalch Clan is plotting and feuding after the head of the clan suddenly dies intestate.
As court intrigue threatens to explode in all-out civil war, the competing factions determine that Kalix is the swing vote necessary to assume leadership of the clan. Unfortunately, Kalix isn’t really into clan politics – laudanum’s more her thing. But what’s even more unfortunate is that Kalix is the reason the head of the clan ended up dead, which is why she’s now on the run in London …
978-0-7499-4283-0
CURSE OF THE WOLF GIRL
Scottish teenage werewolf Kalix MacRinnalch is in London trying to settle down and live a normal life. Her new friends support her as she goes to college to learn to read and write, but her old enemies won’t leave her alone. Many powerful werewolves want Kalix dead, and the Guild of Werewolf Hunters is still dedicated to wiping out the entire MacRinnalch werewolf clan.
Life might be easier if Kalix’s family were able to help, but her sister the Enchantress needs all of her powers to locate the perfect pair of high heels, her brother Markus is busy in Scotland organising an opera, and her cousin Dominil is engaged in her own merciless vendetta. Kalix must carry on alone but she’s finding it difficult enough to pay the rent without having to deal with werewolf hunters and exams at the same time …
978-0-7499-4288-5
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Martin Millar, Ruby & the Stone Age Diet
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