Under My Skin by James Dawson Page B

reached her fingertips and toes, all of her skin buzzing in time with the needle – finding a resonance. The warmth reached her lips and then her eyes, like she was filling up with bathwater, and Sally completely zoned out.
    When she came to, the buzzing had stopped. She sat upright with a jerk, wondering if the whole thing had a been a blue-cheese dream and she was still dozing in the library with Stan. But no, she was still in the tattoo studio. Her back felt warm and tingly.
    â€˜All done.’ It was Rosita. ‘Would you like to see?’
    Boris washed his hands over a stainless steel sink in the corner.
    â€˜Yeah . . . you’re finished?’ She’d closed her eyes for like a minute – how could it possibly be done already?
    â€˜Yes. She looks beautiful.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Sally stood, tempted to reach around and feel. ‘Did I pass out or something?’
    â€˜I don’t think so. You sat very well, though – no wriggling. Boris was impressed.’ From the corner, he growled by way of agreement.
    â€˜I . . . I thought it’d take longer.’ She reached for her back, but Rosita pulled her hand away.
    â€˜Don’t scratch it, no matter how itchy it gets.’ Rosita guided her to a full-length, freestanding mirror. ‘Can you see over your shoulder?’
    Sally closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
What have you done? You stupid, stupid little idiot.
There was always laser removal, she figured. She opened her left eye a fraction, terrified she’d see a hideous bloody mess running onto her jeans.
    It was fine.
    It was more than fine. Sure, the skin was a little red and raised, but there was no blood and Boris had apparently smeared her back in some sort of shiny ointment so it didn’t even feel too sore. ‘Oh, wow.’
    â€˜Isn’t she beautiful?’ Rosita beamed.
    She really,
really
was. The Molly Sue on her back was an exact replica of the one she’d seen in the gallery, only this one looked even more real, if that were possible. The pin-up girl looked delighted to be on her flesh and Sally was delighted to have her. ‘That’s . . . that’s amazing.’
    â€˜Do you like her?’
    All of Sally’s nagging doubts dropped away in a second. Molly Sue made her whole body look different, her slinky walk following the curve of Sally’s own spine. Sally looked older, her waist and hips curvier and more womanly somehow – although she was quite sure it was all psychological. ‘I don’t like her. I
love
her.’

Chapter Five
    Hazy, lazy sun was still shining through thin cloud when Sally reached the top of the basement stairs outside the House of Skin. It was warm too, sunset still a while away. Sally squinted against the light, confused. She was sure she’d heard that tattoos take hours and hours – Molly Sue was quite large too, covering the expanse of flesh from under her shoulder blade to the small of her back.
    Sally started in the direction of home, before remembering why she’d come to this god-awful part of town in the first place – her father’s golf shoes. Still a little wary of the drunk, she looked around anxiously, ready to pelt back down the stairs if necessary. He was nowhere to be seen – he must have got bored and given up ages ago. Sally let out a calming breath and set off towards the parcel depot.
    Like the anaesthetic wearing off after a trip to the dentist, the full horror of what she’d done didn’t hit her until she walked through her front door.
    What have you done to yourself? You’ve scarred yourself FOR LIFE.
    By that time the sun was setting and a chill breeze shivered the trees of her cul-de-sac, although she couldn’t be sure if it was the wind or her nerves making her back teeth clatter.
    â€˜Where have you been?’ Her mother skittered from the kitchen into the hall, brandishing a whisk. ‘You said you’d be back before