Ellis - 020

For Prediction Fiction here

This weeks words: orifice, plug, stretch

I wasn’t sure what I’d got myself into, didn’t really want to imagine how a man got the nickname Petrol.

Going undercover wasn’t just a favour for Kurt, it would also plug a few gaps in my CV. I did love working for Jasper but daydreamed about climbing the career ladder, stretching myself and rising triumphant above numerous challenges. Being applauded for outstanding detecting in a swanky function room. Sharp trouser suit with fun sparkly heels. Jasper, open-mouthed in admiration. Me telling the nay-sayers which orifice to shove things in...

Petrol Byrne though, was that my half remembered green-eyed man?

Ellis - 019

 For Prediction Fiction here

This Weeks Words: contract, support, surrogate

“thnx 4 ur support” said Kurt’s message.

And I’d thought men weren’t good at being passive-aggressive.

In the commune, getting everything out in the open was the way to avoid serious conflict; the aggression between my surrogate family members was never far from the surface. Nothing a chest baring wrestle and a good cup of herbal tea couldn’t solve. I just didn’t think that would work with Kurt. Trust me to yearn for a bloke whose opinion of me would contract if I got my tits out.

The phone pinged again.

“when can u debrief re chatting up “Petrol” Byrne?”

Ellis 018

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: crackle, smoke, traitor

My phone chirruped, a message from Kurt. I guess Jasper had found him.

I felt like a traitor having this crush, but something crackled in me when I saw him, an itch under my skin, wanting to get under his skin. He looked so smooth, so perfect.

Had he deliberately put me in danger? I wasn’t trained for undercover work, but I think I was just meant to keep an eye out, see who was in the club?

I lit a Marlboro; something about the way the smoke tendrilled sparked an almost memory.

Cheekbones, curling hair.

A swallowing green gaze.

Ellis 017

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: gangster, gull, pier

I tried to organise my thoughts. I was still wearing my third favourite dress, sea-foam green covered with black thready lace, like being under a pier. It didn’t look ripped or stained. 

I couldn’t remember seeing DCI Kurt Petersson, at all the Spearmint Rhino, though he had said I wouldn’t be undercover alone. I was to look out for potential Irish gangsters, but accents get lost in the music and shouting.

I flirted to get close, get the men talking.

Gulling them, lulling them.

Yes, accepting drinks.

I don’t remember being on the stage. Or anything much, really. 

Ellis 016

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: bark, native, appropriate

But enough wallowing in old memories, I told myself. Jasper had instructed me to write my report on what I could remember from last night’s undercover shift, I shouldn’t let him down.

I was glad of the new phones that replaced police notebooks, I could stay under the blanket.

I hated report writing, I can still hear my old training Sergeant’s sarcastic drone, “Ellis, the notebook is not the place for your native wit or inappropriate language.” Miserable git, he was.

 Where to start? What can I remember from the haze? I glanced down at my barked knuckles

Ellis 015

For Prediction fiction here
This weeks words: gutter, rime, thrift

Jasper had sneaked to the old gypsy caravan when I was sick one winter, I was twelve. It was a quarantine measure, putting me out there, to stop the rest of us getting influenza. It was quite cosy inside, with old quilts and blankets that spoke of love and history more than thrift, and in the fat guttering candlelight (and fever), I was warm.
Jasper picked his way across the rimed yard, supposed to deposit the soup at the door for me, but he came inside and stayed with me. Ghost stories now, they always make me remember that cosiness.

Ellis 014

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: pride, quirk, wedge

After they had both left, I tucked my wounded pride under the blanket with me.
I never caught Jessica actively trying to drive a wedge between me and Jasper, but that’s how it felt.
Jasper and I had grown up together as siblings in a commune, an amorphous bunch of kids and adults on a farm. He was my adored big brother, he was daring and right and full of purpose. I followed him, into the police. By some quirk of hard work and talent, he made it to Sergeant and became my boss. Jessica just didn’t get our closeness.

Ellis 013

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: devote, eviscerate, tab

Jasper’s phone rang, the sotto voce conversation stilled his face.

“Girls, I have to go.” Aww, I had pictured an afternoon watching crappy daytime telly, punctuated with him devotedly fetching me tea, crisps and chocolate.

“A girl has been found at the top of Victoria Park. All hands on deck,“ he explained. “Ellie, write your report from yesterday, including tabs or other drugs you can remember seeing. We’ll go through it at work tomorrow.”

“What’s happened?” Jess asked.
“Attempted evisceration, but she’s alive.”
He left, determination and excitement thrumming through him.
Jess and I managed to exchange a thin smile.

Ellis 012

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: cashmere, grief, upwards

“Right, Ellie, take the day off today,” Jasper instructed, suddenly decisive. “I’ll go talk to Petersson, stop any rumours trickling upward and give him some grief about putting you in an undercover situation unprotected.”

 My face fell, I didn’t want Jasper facing off against Petersson. Even though Jasper was right. Especially as Jasper was right. I should have cleared it with him first, both as my boss and confidant, but I wanted Petersson to think well of me. Stupid.

 I wanted to protest coherently, but the cashmere softness of my fluffy blanket lured me.

 “I’ll call, later,” Jasper promised. 

Ellis 011

For Prediction fiction here
This weeks words: score, vulnerable, wicked

Jasper poked his head around the door, asked “What’s the score, Jess?”
“There’s no drug trace left in the urine. It was probably GHB,” she replied

I’ve wondered what that would be like, I heard it made you feel wickedly sexy, but it was tricky to get the dose right. I wanted to try it with someone safe, at home, taking it in a club left you vulnerable to blokes out for a good time.

“Did you shag anyone last night, Ellie?” Jasper cutting to the quick.
I considered my body, nothing felt used or sore.
“I don’t think so.”

Gostegodd 013

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: argue, petechial, spring

Olewydden became agitated, twitching as he processed Mark’s reply.
“But the Guardian is not in Petrichor!” he protested, a petechial rash staining his throat.

“Don’t argue, Olewydden. Bring him to me.”
“I, I don’t have that power,” he darted looks to the rear of the drinkshop.
Mark caught the creature’s forelimb and trapped it on the table top.
“You would not have been sent if he wasn’t able to watch me through you. Guardian, Twelve disembarked with me, do you not think that number is significant? Time is shorter than expected.”

Released, Olewydden sprang up, fled to a dark corner.

Ellis 010

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: argue, petechial, spring

I sat on the toilet seat, noticing the dust, as she would. Jessica asked me to remove my t-shirt. I wanted to argue, but sense kicked in. She examined me, running her fingers up my arms, circling my throat, looking into my mouth.

“Hmm, redness there.” She perched on the edge of the bath, asked “Is there anything you want to tell me that you wouldn’t want to say in front of Jasper?”
“No!” I sprang up.
“Petechiae can indicate a sexually transmitted disease.”
I snorted. “It’s been a while.”
“It could be just a sore throat,” she allowed.

Gostegodd 012

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: guardian, olive, straddle

The owner of the soft voice wore an olive cloak. Green, on this rocky planet. The colour associated with the chloropods, out in the emptiness of space. A risk, to wear this, but reassurance also.

“You are Archwilydd Mark?” 
“Not officially,” Mark replied, “Although until a replacement is officially announced, I’m straddling both the inquisition and the resistance.”
“I am Olewydden. I’ve found lodgings for you, and a role, so you can pass in society. Come.”

Mark’s nano-irises scanned Olewydden’s face, for tics that showed he might be untruthful, untrustworthy.
“No. I am only here to meet the Guardian.”

Pliancy

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: guardian, olive, straddle

The doorway to the next room opened, the clock was ticking. The figure there was soft and amorphous now, before his touch changed it, keyed it to his desires. Alana, or some version of her. Fighting him though she loved it. The inevitable violent climax, lolling neck.

He wondered what it would be like to fuck it unchanged, with it’s olive oil smoothness, warmly enveloping. Having it straddle him rather than him doing all the work.

~

“There’s a change,” said the first response watcher.
The corrections team watched.
“It’s progress, he didn’t kill.”
“But he doesn’t see the Guardian yet.”

Ellis 009

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: guardian, olive, straddle

“How long until ‘little miss guardian angel’ gets here?” I asked Jasper, defending my sausages from his thieving fingers. “Make some toast if you’re hungry!”

“Don’t call her that, Ellie. She’s doing you a favour.”
I shrugged. I lost my train of thought, working out a reply about the favour being the other way around, that I was an undercover officer, straddling the line of bad guys, good cops, danger, something.

Jessica arrived twenty minutes later. Petite with straight mahogany hair and kalamata olive eyes, poised even in her blue pyjamas-cum-uniform.

“Just wee into this,” she smiled.

Humiliation.

Gostegodd 011

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: abnegate, core, whisky

Stones everywhere. Buildings aggregated in a palette of creams and browns, ochre and whisky, brick and ancient leather. Rock underfoot, for several kilometres, and far below, a molten rock core. The weirdness of planets. It oppressed Mark, so much concentrated matter.

Now in Petrichor city, the first challenge passed, he had to find his contact. He picked the fourth drinkshop he saw, because it was less brightly lit than the others, even in daylight it had a misty, gloomy air. Ordered a beaker of hot bitter stimulant. Waited.  Drank slowly, until a soft voice behind him spoke the keyword “Abnegation.”

Ellis 008

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: abnegate, core, whisky

One reason I disliked Jessica so much was because Jasper had told her my real, abnegated name, she used it because it was my real name. Self righteous, smug bitch.

Ellie just felt like me, fun and friendly around a core of doing things right. Shining Light, it meant, hmmm.

Topaz was a call girl name. Topaz Ellis sounded sultry and seductive as a glass of single malt whisky sipped in a smoky club with deep leather sofas.

I blame the commune Parents. Jasper got off lightly, Beryl and Pearl would grow into their names eventually. I pitied poor Malachite.

Ellis 007

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: ambiguous, cane, solitary

The sausages sizzled in the pan, along with a solitary flat mushroom. I was ambiguously glad that my lapses of the night before, whatever they were, might not be my fault.

I wasn’t exactly on a final warning, but it would have been difficult to explain being that caned while on duty. I wasn’t a bad police officer, sometimes I let my hair down so much the mornings after were a bit wobbly. Social nerves. Jasper was okay, he knew what I was like, and why.

But, who was there last night that would slip me drugs for free?

Ellis 006

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: bland, chime, perpetual

“Oh, Ellie. That, still? Kurt Petersson is a boring workaholic with nothing else in his life!”
I thought he was dangerously bland, a case of still waters running deep. And he did look like a knitting pattern man, which definitely chimed with me. Chiselled jaw and looking into the distance.
“Ha Jasper, you can talk. You’re still holding a candle for the perpetually smug Jessica, aren’t you?”
“Jessica isn’t sending me into dangerous situations though,” he pointed out. Correctly, damn him.
“I’m sure Kurt didn’t think I’d be drugged!”
“Where is he now? Not exactly looking out for you, eh?”

Ellis 005

For Prediction Fiction here
This weeks words: entrails, kiss, perfect

Drugged?
Maybe that explained the gnawing hunger pangs in my belly. Restored by tea, I opened the fridge to see if I had the makings of a fry up. Eggs, tomatoes, black pudding. Links of butchers sausages coiled up like entrails. Perfect!

“Ellie, you’ve spaced out again. You’ve been staring into that fridge for five minutes.” Jasper put his arm around my shoulders and plunked a kiss on my forehead.
“What are we going to do with you?” he asked. “What were you doing at that place anyway?”

I could answer that one, “DCI Petersson picked me to go undercover.”