Beautiful Biters: The Unnatural Appetites Series

By Ellis Bloom

A WATTYS2020 PARANORMAL WINNER
Nineteen-year-old Maya has too much on her plate. Trying to protect her younger sister. Struggling with crushes on unsuitable guys. 
Justin is a newly converted vampire, battling to resist the urge to kill and desperately worried about his brother, converted at the same time but AWOL ever since. If the authorities find him first, he's toast.
When the two of them meet through the vampire Maya earmarks to help her with an exciting project aimed at making money, both are taken aback by the mutual attraction. First rule of vampire-human integration though...? You don't go that far.
And while living in this bleak world poses its own hazards, not least because those in charge are too ready to ride rough shod over vampires and happy to accept backhanders, Maya and Justin still need to cope with the day to day stuff. Going to college, fighting with your mum, obsessing over the food you can't eat, dealing with unpopularity and online trolls.
Contains occasional strong language and some violent scenes. Original artwork (the cover) by Jennifer Mijatovic @wee_mij on Instagram.

"I enjoyed this book SO MUCH. I couldn't stop reading - I just wanted to know what happens next. I think the world you've created is brilliant and so clever. It's a really, really fun take on vampires that I've certainly never come across."
"This is the very first time I'm going to say this to a client: your novel is amazing! Jesus, what a ride! What a pleasure to read!"

"Great job! Lots of fun, creative AF, very well written!"

I started the book this morning and it was so addicting that I read it all in just a couple of hours. I would 10000/10 recommend this book to anyone and everyone. "The style of the book was really different than what I typically read on Wattpad so I didn't know what to expect but I definitely wasn't disappointed."

"Ughhhhhhh I love love love this book!! It's amazing!! So well written. I devoured it in a day! Keep it up!!"

"I admit this came up in my recommendations and glad I ended up taking myself into reading this story. I'm surprised I finished reading it within three days. :O" "Amazing. Love romance between Maya and Justin and challenges they face. Backstories. The world building. And people that are supporting Maya on MyTV and people (friends and family, unexpected allies) that have her back. Also, amazing response to reader comments and work put into re-editing this story. All in all, wonderful work and I wish you good luck with writing. :)"

"This was an ASTOUNDING story!!! I admit, I initially clicked on this just bc it was a vampire story.... but the world you have created - so raw and believable - powerful, I really felt as though I was there, watching it all unravel!! ❤❤❤"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pink Glitter Publishing
• Release date: Oct 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201784553

Book preview

VAMPIRES – GUARANTEED TO MAKE YOU SOIL YOUR CLOTHES

We didn’t want to take Rosie to the hospital. The trip could very well kill her. But as Sharon and I watched my sister’s fever steadily rising and coughs racking her little body for three days straight, we knew we had no choice.

If the vampires didn’t get her, the chest infection would.

Get the car to the front door, Maya, Sharon said, and I’ll bring her out.

I was yet to pass my driving test but I drove all the time. As I opened the front door, the outside air making me shiver despite it being April, my heart pounded. Could they tell? And why did it have to be night-time? I’d have felt much safer if it had been mid-day, sun high in the sky. Even though sunny days in Dunrovia’s capital city happened... ooh, once a month if we were lucky.

To minimise the distance between the front door and the vehicle, I parked the car side on to the house and up on the pavement. Sharon stumbled out minutes later, Rosie wrapped in a blanket, clutched to her chest.

She yanked open the door and got in next to me. Go!

Nothing appeared. Thank you, universe thank you thank you thank you.

I drove through several red lights to get to the hospital. Just as well I looked like Sharon. If the cameras caught me violating so many traffic laws, we would pretend she had been the driver. Otherwise, we’d be in deep shit. No licence. No insurance. And no money to pay fines.

The doctor gave Rosie a course of antibiotics and kept her in overnight. We returned the next day—Sharon driving this time—to pick her up. Our healthcare did not run to extended hospital stays, even if Rosie would have been better off there for a few more days.

All we need to do is get her home and I’ll sort her out, Sharon said.

I trusted her. Sharon, otherwise known as my mum, had been a nurse for twenty-odd years and was good at it. Then I caught her eyes in the car mirror, wide eyed and frightened. The way she always was around Rosie.

I did the grown-up reassurance thing. Yeah, she’ll be fine. Once we’ve got her back home.

Both of us glanced up. The skies gave no clue. This time, it was broad daylight and all around us were the sights you might expect at that time of day. People making their way to work or the college. Black security vans taking up too much room on the roads, beeping horns. Shops and businesses shoving open graffiti-covered shutters.

Logos for some of the illegal terrorist groups emblazoned the walls—a slogan Stake ‘Em High! the most noticeable one. I sighed. How could the State blame people for the protests, the demand for change and tighter restrictions? When this, me and Sharon forced to scurry between buildings protecting our precious, vulnerable Rosie, was the norm for the many people like us who were unable to afford immunisation against vampires?

She’ll need to take the antibiotics for another five days, the paediatrician told us. We stood in the reception area, the signs above directing people to different wards. The doctor looked as if she wanted to collapse on a bed and sleep for a week. Hospitals here catered for far too many people and were under-funded. Our healthcare insurance covered diddly squat. Rosie’s overnight stay was thanks to the doctor’s kindness. The itemised bill Sharon held did not include it.

Can you tell us if Rosie has moved up the emergency immunisation waiting list? Sharon asked, ever hopeful. The doctor closed her eyes briefly, pulling out her phone and typing Rosie’s healthcare ID number into it.

When’s her fifth birthday? the doctor asked, shaking her head when Sharon said the date. If the vaccination was to work, Rosie needed it before or on that day. In just over two months’ time.

I’d love to rush her to the top of that list, but it’s months long. I’m so sorry. When the public funding ran out, I joined the protests about privatisation. Not that they did any good.

She tipped her head to the side. Sunshine Health offers plans for—

Not eligible, Sharon muttered. Her job and my student status disqualified us from any of Sunshine Health’s care plans as we didn’t earn enough. The costs for vaccination once children passed the two-year stage skyrocketed. Without the proper healthcare plan, we were screwed.

The doctor chucked Rosie under the chin. Medicated and happier, Rosie giggled back at her, blonde curls framing her face. Rosie got all the looks in our family. Sharon and I shared dark hair, swarthy skin and squat bodies.

Thanks, anyway, Sharon said, and we headed out.

Like all public buildings, the hospital had a drop-off point in an underground car park patrolled by security guards. If you wanted to use the internal drop-off point, there was a charge. I tipped out the last of what was in my jeans pockets to pay for it.

Sharon wanted to sit in the back and cuddle Rosie, so I drove the hour and a half it took to get us home. Shall we put on some music? I asked, slotting an old cassette tape into the music player. Yes, our car’s ancient music system meant we ought to flog the car as an antique. Maybe it would help cover some of Rosie’s late-stage immunisation costs.

Yes! Rosie shouted, much happier now her infection had cleared up. We all sang along to Old MacDonald Had a Farm.

E I E I O.

Back at our narrow-terraced house slap bang in the middle of the Garshake Estate, a car had parked outside ours, blocking the front door. I couldn’t get close enough to it.

Sharon swore, although she chose a milder word than I did. We waited it out but after an hour, I needed to pee desperately, Rosie moaned about being hungry and Sharon was late for work.

Where’s security? I asked.

Sharon shook her head. I phoned them this morning and told them we would be bringing an unvaccinated child back to the house. They said they would do their best.

Their best was never enough.

We planned our route. I would get out of the car and open the front door. Then, I would return, armed with one of our home-made stakes. Sharon would slide out of the car with Rosie and bolt to the front door. Shouldn’t take longer than thirty seconds, I said. Easy-peasy.

Easy-peasy, Sharon repeated. Whatever.

I edged the car closer to the other vehicle, swearing when I bumped into it. Another bill to pay.

Outside, I scuttled to our front door. The door’s lock was stiff, and we had three of them because of Rosie. The seconds ticked away as I struggled to open them. Job done, I grabbed a stake and went back to the car. More fiddling with keys and they were out, and then...

The scream, part-human, part monster. The skies clouded over, and the birds rose from the nearby trees. A chill in the air. The stillness. My breath came in raggedy gasps. The neighbours’ doors remained firmly closed. If they heard anything amiss, they chose to ignore it. Under my breath, I called them everything and more. But most of our neighbours were in the same position as us. Desperate to protect their own.

We froze, paralysed by fear.

Above me, a blur of darkness hastened towards us.

Get in the car, I yelled at Sharon, yanking open the back door, sticking my hand on her head and pushing her in. She hit her forehead on the top. Rosie, giggles for the doctor long gone, wailed.

It came for me. You can tell yourself, again and again and again, They can’t touch me. I’m immune. But when a monster flies at you, arms spread, hands claw-like, lips drawn back and razor-sharp canines all too prominent, who doesn’t get scared? Frightened enough that you feel the trickle of warm water run down your leg.

Vampires. Guaranteed to make you soil your clothes.

I’d done the compulsory safety training. Aim for the heart. Ten out of ten, folks, if you know what side of the body it’s on.

Our safety trainer had a fine line in sarcasm. But it helped now, reminding me vividly of the class.

The man’s voice: Stand back half a metre. Grip the stake two-thirds of the way along. Picture that grizzled, blackened old heart in your head, draw your elbow back and thrust as hard as you can. I mean it; your fist should hit the chest so that the stake goes all the way through.

My hand tightened around the stake. The monster knew what I planned, and it changed course, hurtling towards the car’s back window where Sharon and Rosie cowered. I shifted, stake held close to my ear and it halted, hovering in the air a few metres above me.

Blood-shot, red-rimmed black eyes fixed on mine. A man. Late twenties, or at least in his twenties when converted to the Dark Side, pallor-skinned and thick hair falling forward on his face. The stench of decay all too detectable.

Hatred radiated off him. I sent it straight back. Determination replaced the fear.

Did it show? The monster and I were locked in a stand (fly?) off. Seconds ticked by. The safety trainer told us we should never waste energy thrusting unnecessarily. One chance; one chance only. His voice rang in my ears.

Sirens. Me and it/him twitched our heads in the sound’s direction. In the back of the car, Sharon waved her phone at me. At last, our level three insurance had kicked in. Ten seconds away, I guessed.

I smiled at the monster. Woo-hoo. Vampire Security is on its way and they will blow you to kingdom come. I’ll be cheering when that happens.

He lost it, coming in for me, teeth bared. I tipped my head to the side. Bite me! Go on. Can’t wait to see how that works out for you.

A black van screeched to a halt at the top of our street, the doors opening to tip out guards who ran towards us. The vampire paused and then rose into the air once more. He flew off, fast enough to dodge the flurry of silver bullets that accompanied his flight. The second van took off after him.

One of the remaining guards approached me.

You took your time, I said, putting my stake down. My mum phoned you this morning and said we would be out on the streets with a vulnerable kid. When we got back you were supposed to be here.

The black cap he wore shaded his forehead and eyes. Didn’t matter. I knew he glared at me.

You’re okay, aren’t you? Thank us the next time.

He pushed forward his electronic reader for me to sign. I scrawled my signature.

Oh, and this call-out? It affects your premiums. Which will be more expensive next year.

The smirk made me itch to whack my fist into his face. I settled for flicking him the bird when he turned to walk back to the van.

A vampire and the wank outfit that called itself Vampire Security all in the space of fifteen minutes. Peach of a day.

YOUR PERFECT #SORRYNOTSORRY

THE WEST COUNTRY

Justin stumbled along the path that ran by the road and the bridge that led over the water. So far, there’d been no sign of a handy corner shop with a sign outside, Blood supplies here—buy one, get one free!

Hunger gnawed at his belly. What now? He’d set off an hour earlier when darkness rolled in, only a vague plan in mind. Find blood. This was the first time he’d ventured out of the warehouse since... since that happened. The ground beneath his feet wobbled; a reminder he was no longer sure of anything in the world.

Pulling the hoodie over his head, he hoped people took him for just another young layabout. Law and order did not treat this part of the world the way it did the rest, but he didn’t want to attract attention and dropped behind the trees and bushes wherever he could.

Once over the bridge, though, his nerves and the hunger dissipated, the sense of freedom too heady to ignore. He’d reached the edge of the forest and the traffic had died away. The impulse came out of nowhere. He threw off the hood, tipped back his head and inhaled mouthfuls of air scented with pinecones and loamy earth, dropping to his knees and opening his arms wide.

The eyes and teeth came out, too, as the inhalation of fresh air took in the reek of blood. Humans. Not that near, but within hunting distance and soon, soon...

...teeth and hands would rip them apart, opening arteries to allow rich, iron-filled blood to spill into his gaping—

A hand touched his arm, making him leap. He whirled round, terror replacing the heady hit of abandonment. Vampires discovered in places they shouldn’t be rarely survived to tell the tale.

She shook off her hood.

Freya, what the hell? Anger battled irritation. What bit of ‘stay here, I’ll be back soon’, didn’t you understand?

I wanted an adventure, too.

She sniffed the air. Justin! Humans close by. Can you sense it?

Life took on twenty more complications. Justin didn’t have the chance to focus on them. Mists swirled and the skies above darkened. The air stilled. Bird song vanished and the tree rustling stopped.

Freya grabbed his hand. Justin squeezed it back, full-on fear pumping through his body once more.

A deep voice. Amused. Oh! Two for the price of one, Cordelia. Aren’t we lucky?

A man, not that much older than him, stepped out of the gloom. Eyes and teeth out and proud.

Justin took the age calculation back. Human mileage turned hair grey, creased faces and set off skin flapping where muscles used to be. Vampirism kept you at the age you were converted, but the ones that stacked up the decades, centuries even, showed their years in subtle ways. The older they got, the more statue like they became.

Arnaud, the man said, striding forward, hand extended, we weren’t expecting company tonight, but I dare say you can tag along.

He had a slight accent. French, maybe? And while the cocky confidence made him stick out, Justin could not tear his eyes from the woman with him. She was vampire scrawny, as they all were, but her skin stretched so tightly over the bones of her face it seemed transparent. She shone too, a white-silver glow that contrasted with her hair—waist-length dark auburn locks.

Centuries of experience stood before them.

Allow me to introduce the lovely Cordelia, Arnaud said, sweeping his hand back. What a stroke of luck you’ve had running into us. Cordelia specialises in mentoring the virgin, or should I say newbie biters.

Newbie, he repeated himself, turning to Freya. Is that the right word? I do like to be current.

Freya giggled.

Cordelia pursed her lips and sashayed forward, stopping in front of Justin so they were only inches apart.

Up close, Justin fancied he could see the network of veins and capillaries delivering the blood to her skin. When she opened her mouth to speak, her jawbone was too close to the surface. And yet it made her mesmerising. Green eyes fixed on his. Some vampires used hypnosis on victims. She might be one of them.

How... how old are you? he stuttered, and she tutted, extending a hand to caress the side of his face.

Oh, Arnaud! she directed the comment over her shoulder. What dreadful manners young people have these days. Never ask a lady her age.

She winked, a slow sweep of lashes that almost reached her cheekbones. But as you’re so delectable yourself, I’ll tell you. Not the precise age as I’ve lost count. You do that once you’ve sung happy birthday to yourself more than five hundred times.

Justin gasped, as did Freya. They’d always been told the army wiped out ancient vampires. Humans had always killed them over the years, but when the last war took place, old vampires who objected to second-class status and being forced to drink the state programme’s artificial blood found themselves blown to bits.

If they were discovered. A big if, then.

Arnaud smiled once more, wolf-like and predatory. Remarkable, isn’t she? The oldest vampire in existence. We know a thing or two, don’t we, Cordelia?

Everything you know, she replied, voice tart. I taught you. The art of leaving a place in double quick time. And flying, and yet it still took you forever to master it.

Arnaud laughed, a high-pitched grating sound. Freya joined in. Can you teach us? she asked Cordelia, adoration shining in her eyes. Dead useful.

Cordelia raised bony shoulders in an elaborate shrug. Perhaps. If I decide I like you.

Her hand returned to his face, two fingers circling on his temple. She licked her top lip, and he concentrated on not shuddering, the come-on repellent instead of tempting him. Sure, he didn’t mind women who made their wants known. But sex with a monster?

You’re the same, the voice in his head reminded him. No, no, I’m not... oh hell.

Anyway, fun as this is, Cordelia said, I’m peckish. How about you, Justin?

He nodded automatically, halting when he realised what that meant.

I take my mentoring responsibilities seriously, Cordelia said, dropping her hand. and it’s easy to work out you two have never hunted. Care to join me...?

Feet and legs refused to obey the instructions Justin’s mind shrieked—no, no, no, you know where this will lead—turning to trail after her.

They tramped through the forest, birds rising from the trees chirping, and the occasional deer bolting in terror when it spotted them. Justin, the one-time animal lover, despaired at the way animals responded to him now.

Cordelia stopped, holding a finger to her lips. They gathered around her, and she pointed to a distant building. A compound, Justin recognised it as one of the lesser quality ones. As he got closer, he realised that was an optimistic description. His last human home had been rough. This was much, much worse.

The surrounding wall hadn’t been maintained. Bricks missing in places and gaps big enough for a dog or cat to get through. The barbed wire at the top was patchy too, and beyond the wall a tower block covered in graffiti with narrow walkways joining the flats. They were supposed to be lead-lined to muffle the smell of blood. Justin knew the metal would have worn away in many places and never been replaced.

Who lives here? he asked, stopping.

Scum, Arnaud said, that the human gene pool will not miss.

What, all of them?

Freya nudged him. C’mon. We’ll just watch. We won’t kill anyone ourselves.

As if that made it all right. But as the compound’s entrance gate got nearer, the scent of blood intensified. Justin’s feet moved of their own accord. Freya did the same, the two of them trance-like. She turned to him and he drew back, horrified. Her teeth were out, razor-sharp tips gleaming in the moonlight and her eyes black and red-rimmed. Freya’s appearance must reflect his. He hadn’t seen himself in a mirror since... since that happened.

Cordelia stopped at the gate.

Do you fly in there? Justin asked, eyeing the top of the wall. It might have crumbled in places, but it was still over six metres tall.

Arnaud laughed again. Oh no, he said, moving to the door and rapping on it with his knuckles. Three sharp knocks. Behind the door, he heard whispering and the jangle of keys. It slid open, a khaki-capped head poking out. The cap bore the logo Steel Security. Tag line: Budget security at its best.

Got the money, aye? the young man whispered. He held his hand out.

Arnaud pulled a packet from his coat and handed it over. As agreed. No need to count it.

The man licked his thumb and flicked his way through the notes, anyway. Justin couldn’t tell, but he guessed the amount to be well in excess of what guards earned every month.

Satisfied they had paid him the amount he’d demanded, the man let himself out. He held ropes and duct tape.

Okay then. Hit me, aye? And tie me up good and tight.

Had he expected Cordelia to deliver the punch? Or for it to be as hard? Justin suspected not, as her fist flew through the air and connected with the guy’s nose, breaking it and making him scream. When he dropped to his knees, she kicked him in the balls and delivered another kick to his head when he fell on the ground.

Arnaud trussed the unconscious man up, fastening a thick strip of duct tape to his mouth.

She turned to address Justin. All part of the fun!

Arnaud beckoned Justin and Freya forward.

Watch and learn, young friends!

As all he could smell was the lushness of fresh blood pulsing in warm bodies, Justin’s body was no longer his to control. He followed Cordelia. Inside, most of the lights on the walkways were busted. His eyes adjusted and sharpened. Yet another vampire advantage where night vision far outdid human sight.

No-one was out and about. In a compound such as this, Justin guessed they hardly ever came out of those flats. Far too dangerous. Still, when he and the others reached the main entrance for the first tower block, a woman appeared three floors above them, her hair hanging forward as she leaned over to look at them.

We’re armed, she yelled, and there are a lot of us. Ready to send you straight to hell.

Cordelia tipped her head up so she could beam at her. Justin watched, fascinated. How was it possible for clear skin, sparkly eyes and carved marble perfection features to look so menacing at the same time?

Marvellous! her voice sang out. Blood is all the sweeter when it’s been hard won. And your son’s neck cries out for me to sink my teeth into it.

From the woman’s sharp intake of breath, Cordelia must have guessed who the woman protected. The boy would be cowering behind a door somewhere.

The image came up, unbidden. I break through the window, swoop in on the boy, and drain his body of blood. Rich, sweet and delicious...

Stop, stop! Don’t go there! But he’d started to pant, as had Freya—the fight and what was to come firing them up.

Ten people faced them in the hallway, faces hard, determined and desperate. They held sharpened stakes of wood and they all wore large silver crosses. Justin watched the stakes shake. Small wonder. Arnaud and Cordelia appeared relaxed. Amused, even.

Do the silver crosses work? Justin asked.

Cordelia shook her head. Excellent question, Justin. They’re useless. As is garlic. All it does is make someone taste nasty, but it never stops me.

The group registered dismay. If they had spent the previous few hours munching their way through hundreds of loaves of garlic bread, they’d wasted their time.

What about the stakes? Justin called out, as Arnaud advanced on the group who pulled tighter together, stakes in a hedgehog like formation above them.

Oh, they work, Cordelia said. She hadn’t moved, watching the group, an indulgent smile on her face. The only trouble is, it’s a tricky move to get right. The stake must go straight through the heart and come out the other side. Most people do not have enough strength to thrust hard enough.

She sniggered. One idiot once stabbed me through the righthand side. What do they teach them at school these days? Not basic biology, anyway!

Arnaud sighed, tapping the left side of his chest. Pitiful. Still, here it is folks—my blackened, shrivelled heart should you want to aim for it.

This must be a well-practised routine. And aimed at distracting the audience. The relaxed, jocular Arnaud vanished. His hand darted out, grabbed the stake nearest to him. The movement yanked its holder out of the group as he battled to hold on to it. His companions shifted position, circling the man so he was not as exposed.

But they hadn’t reckoned on Cordelia, who flew up and dropped behind the group. She grabbed two of the stakes, jerking them straight up in the air, those holding them still in place. Seconds later, they fell to the ground, Cordelia having battered them hard against the ceiling. They weren’t dead, but Justin suspected broken bones. Out of the game.

Arnaud’s victim clung on, though his hands shook, making the stake wiggle back and forth between them. The vampire copied Cordelia, thrusting the man up in the air and battering his head against the ceiling. By the time he dropped to the floor, he was dead.

Oops! Arnaud said, sorry about that.

Your perfect #sorrynotsorry.

Four more of the group disposed of in the same way, the rest of them shuffled together, stakes held in front of them and charged Arnaud and Cordelia. They got nowhere—the vampires laughing as they flew out of the way every time the group got anywhere near.

I want to help, Freya cried, running forward. A young woman turned, yanking her stake around and shoving it hard at Freya, who shrieked as it caught her right side, piercing through the top of her chest and out the other side. She dropped to the ground, the stake pinning her there.

The heroics had left the woman unarmed. Cordelia appeared in front of her, grabbed her by the throat and whirled her round, breaking her neck. The few who remained fled, the battle too uneven for them to win. Safer instead to lock themselves in their flats, backs against the doors.

Justin hurried over to Freya. The wound made him gag, a blood-filled hole gaping around the stake. Are you okay? he asked, dropping to his knees and taking her hand in his. Freya was ice cold. Trembling, she opened her mouth.

Ta-take it ou-out.

Don’t, Arnaud said sharply. The woman didn’t hit your friend’s heart. Wait here with her while we find her the cure. Otherwise, they might come back and finish the job.

Justin nodded, and Cordelia and Arnaud vanished once more. From the noises above, he guessed they were trying the doors to different flats, working out which ones would be the easiest to break into.

Freya’s eyes rolled back in her head. He squeezed her hand. Stay with me, Freya.

No, he wasn’t Freya’s number one fan, and he knew she had a massive, unrequited crush on him, but they shared a bond. Converted a few weeks ago and uprooted from their old lives. He sat down and placed her head in his lap and stroked her hair. Her eyes closed, her breathing coming in shallow rasps.

Groans from those on the floor, not yet dead. He shut his eyes and wished he could slam his hands over his ears, too.

High-pitched screaming above them. Justin cast his eyes upwards. The third walkway. Were the screams male or female? Female, he decided. That woman who’d issued the warning beforehand. They must have found her son.

Don’t take him. Take me!

Her argument was pointless. Cordelia and Arnaud knew better than to touch her. The immunised blood in her body would burn a vampire inside out, increasing their body temperature to boiling point in seconds. There was a scuffle. Her body sailed over the rail moments later, landing in a heap metres away from Justin, eyes unstaring and face forever frozen in a grimace.

Cordelia and Arnaud returned. Between them, they held a sheet-white struggling teenage boy. Seventeen, Justin guessed. Three years younger than him.

The turning point, then. An action that would forever mark him as no different from Cordelia and Arnaud.

Monster. Vampire.

Murderer.

The boy’s eyes sent him a desperate appeal.

Don’t, don’t, don’t, please don’t...

HEALTHCARE FOR EVERYONE

S o, the state won’t be galloping to our rescue and coming up with the money we can’t afford for Rosie’s vaccination, Sharon, I said as we let ourselves back into the house, having laughed with Rosie that the silly man flying in the air was playing a joke on me.

She accepted the lie, though I often wondered how much longer we would be able to keep her endangered status from her.

Don’t call me that, Sharon protested, as she did from time to time pretending that she didn’t prefer Sharon to Mum. Rosie ran up the stairs. I stripped off my dirty jeans and cleaned myself up. Sharon stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me when I jogged down them.

Have you... checked the costs of late-stage immunisation recently? she asked.

I checked the website most weeks. Up until ten years ago, the state paid for vampire immunisation for all its citizens at birth, as had happened with Sharon and later me. Then the National Conservatives came to power on a promise of halting the massive spending previous governments had embarked on. They privatised healthcare.

Rosie’s waste of chromosomes loser father ran off with his secretary—ten out of ten for choosing the cliched option there, step-pa—while Sharon was pregnant. To add insult to injury, he cleared out their savings when he left. Sharon didn’t have enough money for health insurance, and nowhere near the sums required for late-stage immunisation.

Share a bed with a man, Maya, but never a bank account! Sharon told me all the time.

But it meant Rosie hadn’t