Page 7 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

“Unfortunately.” Deepa had to force her feet to move, and even then, she held onto Roz's hand until the last possible second. Roz seemed to appreciate her recalcitrance, at least. “You should write down the address of this fight, and I’ll be sure to attend.”

Offering Roz the little diary she kept in her handbag for just this purpose, Deepa watched as Roz scrawled down a time and place in blocky, workmanlike letters. At the end of the address, she hesitated a second, pen blotting the page, before adding her own name, like Deepa might forget who the note was from. Or maybe, Deepa considered, as Roz returned the pen and notebook, like she was laying claim to this little piece of Deepa’s life.

Deepa didn’t dislike the notion.

“See you then,” Roz said, her voice like a promise.

Deepa wasn’t above a night of fun, but this felt different, and she was wary of it. It was the novelty of flirting with a woman that made it feel more important than flirting with a man, she decided; not that she’d never flirted with a woman before, but not with real intent. Roz didn’t make leaving easy, standing there so invitingly.

Finally, Aaliyah took Deepa by the arm and physically dragged her away.

“Look at you, landing yourself a handsome butch on your first night out!” She slung an arm around Deepa’s shoulders, hauling her close as they collected Jasmine to head for the exit. “How does it feel? Are you joining the family, or are you going straight back to your endless, boring lines of manly suitors?”

The first option sounded rather impulsive; the second, absolutely dreadful.

“Roz says she’s a boxer. She invited me out next Thursday to watch her fight, and I said yes.”

“Do you know anything about underground boxing?” Jasmine asked. “Or boxing at all?”

“Nothing whatsoever. I look forward to being educated. However,” Deepa added in the face of her friends’ ebullience, “don’t think I’m about to start wearing trousers and sailor outfits and little monocles just because a handsome lady chatted me up for a single night.”

“She seems to like you just fine without any of that,” Jasmine said, which Deepa could hardly refute.

Any other night, she would have stayed out with Roz long enough for the other woman to make a move, had a little fun with her on the dance floor, then gone home without giving the encounter another thought. It could have been a fun night out with no ramifications.

But on any other night, Deepa wouldn't have been thinking about love; especially not the true fairytale variety. And any other night, the clock wouldn't have been ticking down towards her next transformation into a wild leopard.

“I can understand everything said to me,” Deepa explained as the three of them entered her flat shortly before midnight. “I’m perfectly lucid. It’s just that I’m restricted in my communications.”

“So, you don’t feel dangerous,” Aaliyah interpreted.

“Certainly not! Apart from wanting to tear Phillip limb from limb, I wasn’t aware of harbouring any sudden violence whatsoever.”

“But you weren’t able to actually test it,” said Jasmine.

“No, Cherie locked herself away before we could interact very much. And, on the off chance that my leopard does turn out to be a man-eater — well, I don’t want to risk it.”

“Right,” Aaliyah declared. “Well, first things first: let’s get this on you.”

From her bag, she produced a thick leather collar with a d-ring on the front, and a leash to match.

“Do I want to know where you got those?” Deepa asked, eyeing them with no small amount of trepidation.

“I bought them for my imaginary dog. The shopkeeper said they’re designed for mastiffs, specifically, you know, those great lion-fighting dogs. If it’ll do for a mastiff, I'm sure it will do for a leopard.”

Taking the collar, Deepa reluctantly fastened it around her neck, tipping her chin up to allow Aaliyah to clip the end of the leash onto the ring.

“Now, what have you got sturdy enough that we can tie the other end to?” Aaliyah asked.

Deepa glanced around the flat. There wasn't much in the place that could be considered sturdy, by any stretch of the imagination. “The bedroom door, I suppose,” she said doubtfully. “But if I want to get loose, I don't think it will prove much challenge for me, even lacking opposable thumbs. I'm not turning into a dumb animal.”

“No, and I doubt you're turning into a vicious killer, either,” Aaliyah agreed. “But let’s find out, shall we?”

It was five minutes to midnight.

“What if I don’t change tonight at all?” Deepa asked, toying nervously with her bracelets. “What if it was just a one-off?”

“Does Phillip strike you as the type to give you a one-off curse?” Jasmine asked. “You haven’t broken it.”

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