It’s just gone midnight. I don’t want Lorna in my hotel suite anymore. I want it back to myself. I want her to go. The heroin, though, she can leave here with me. We’ve had one hit. For some reason, I feel anxious. I want the next fix now. I don’t want to make out with Lorna. I don’t want a flashback. My sex drive has vanished. I felt drawn to Lorna earlier. Now I don’t, not in the slightest. I feel really uncomfortable. Although we only shot up heroin, I feel like I’ve been on the crack pipe. This isn’t how I usually feel on smack.

This is really strange. Maybe it was bad gear. Maybe that’s what it was. I want to ask Lorna if she feels strange too but I feel too strange in myself to talk. We’re lying on the bed in silence. At least we’ve got our clothes on. Her arm’s around my waist as she’s cuddling into me. I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel good. It doesn’t feel right. I don’t feel like I’m me anymore. This isn’t any kind of flashback. This is just like crack.

“I need another hit,” I say to Lorna eventually, once I’ve found the courage to use my voice.

She turns her back to me, preparing the hit on the bedside table. I light a cigarette in the hope it’ll make me feel relaxed. If the cigarette doesn’t make a difference, the hit should. It must be anxiety that I’m feeling. Heroin will sort that out for sure.

I push myself to sit upright on the bed. Leaning my back against the padded headboard, I open my eyes wider. I’m seeing in double vision. This is something that has only ever happened when I’ve speedballed, and I haven’t done that often.

Lorna passes me the filled syringe.

“Thanks,” I say, rolling back the sleeve of my pink cardigan. I look for a vein. It’s hard to see with double vision. “Can you find a vein for me, please?” I ask her.

Lorna takes my hand in her lap. She runs her fingers softly over my arm. It feels like spiders are crawling on my skin where she’s touching me. “Here’s a good one.” She wraps my tan belt around my arm, just above the elbow.

“Is this the same kind of heroin as last time?” I ask. I know the heroin in Australia is different from England because it’s white, not brown, and it’s stronger. But this wasn’t the feeling I had on it last night.

“There’s only one kind of heroin, Nicole, and this is it. This guy’s stuff is always powerful. It’s more pure.” She strokes my hair away from my face. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine,” I lie. I’m too scared to tell her the truth.

“Gimme your arm back. How can I give you a shot like that?”

I didn’t realise before, but now I notice my arms are wrapped around my waist. The tan belt acting as a tourniquet is hanging loose. I’m holding myself. It’s that self-protection, or self-consoling or something. I put my hand back in her lap. I want the fix. I need the fix. She inserts the needle into the vein on the inside of my elbow. She pulls back the plunger then pushes in.

I don’t feel better. If anything, I feel worse. I should be lying back, gouching out, but I’m not. I’m still sat upright. My unseeing eyes feel wide open. I’m thinking Lorna’s going to tie me up to the bed. She’s going to steal all my money and credit cards. She wants to take my designer clothes, shoes and handbags. She doesn’t really like me. I thought she did. But now I don’t think so. I’m convinced she’s here to rob me. That’s the reason she wants to hang out with me. She wants everything I have.

I’m late when I walk downstairs to the hotel lobby. It took me longer to get ready than I anticipated. I’m a regular latecomer. All the time now. I never used to be. I was famously punctual before heroin. Not that I’ve had a sneaky fix today. Of course, I haven’t. I haven’t seen Lorna yet. Heroin has somehow changed who I am.

I look around the lobby. Lorna’s not here. I check the sofas around the corner. She’s not there either. I look outside the hotel. She’s not anywhere. By the clock in reception, it’s nearly five-thirty. I’m more than slightly late. But if she was here earlier, then surely she’d have come to my room. She knows the number. It was only last night she spent the night.

I walk outside. The air isn’t much cooler than it was earlier in the day. That’s Australia in December. I light a cigarette. I have to do something. I could do with a drink as well. Perhaps I’ll go to the bar. No, I’d better wait. If I want a hit, I have to wait. I don’t know anyone else who can get smack over here. Mickey looked like he would know, but Mickey never came back for me.

On the other side of the road, people are leaving the beach. I’m watching them when suddenly my vision is blocked. Hands are covering my eyes.

“Guess who,” a male voice says.

Who the hell is it? I rip the hands from my face and turn around. “Hello love! What are you doing here?”

“I’m here on business.” Greg straightens the collar of his white shirt. “Are you?”

“No. I’m purely here for pleasure.” I fake a smile.

“I’ll buy you drink. Come to the bar.”

“I’ll have to decline. I’m meeting a friend now. Another time though. How long are you here for?”

“I’m flying back on the twenty-third. I wanted to see in the New Year here but the battle-axe wouldn’t permit it.”

“You are naughty.” I give him a wink. “Do you want to see me properly? I’ll be free tomorrow night.”

“Eight o’clock, meet here. Dinner, dancing, then some rampant lovemaking. How does that sound, sexy?” Greg turns on the spot. He’s a wanker, but he pays well.

“Sounds perfect. I’m looking forward to it.” I have to do it. I don’t need the money. I have enough money to last for years, but I have to work when I can. I can’t not.

Greg dances his way up the street. I am good. He knows it. But what he doesn’t know is why. I’m good because I see through him, through all of them. I can tell what they want to hear and I say it. I can tell what they want me to do so I do it. It’s instinctive in me. No surprises how I picked up that skill and learnt the behaviour. Another present from my past.

Lorna walks towards me. Together we must look like a pair of defective Barbie dolls. The blonde hair is there but it’s lank. We have the blue eyes but they’re empty. We both have blemishes covering our faces. I have abscess scars on my arms. She has track marks on hers. The only thing that’s right is our height, our slim figures and our large breasts.

Lorna kisses my lips. “Sorry I’m late.”

“I was late too, but you’re something else.” I grin. She looks cute, particularly after bumping into Greg.

“How much do you want?”

“Same as last night, please.”

“We’ll need to go to Parramatta. My man in the Cross isn’t holding.” She takes my hand and walks me down the street.

“How do we get there?” I ask.

She waves a set of keys. “I’m driving.”

She wraps her arm around my waist and gives me a squeeze. I foresee a repeat of last night.