The Troika Dolls - Miranda Darling [44]
‘Yeah. At Zima’s model comp. They picked both of us, you know.’
‘Yes. You are very beautiful, Petra. You would make a very good model.’ Stevie laid her words carefully on the girl. She brightened under her bandage.
‘Yeah. After this nose job I’m going to go for it. I’m getting a contract, you know.’
‘Did Anya get a contract?’
‘Umm. Well, she was going to and . . . yeah. I mean, I don’t know.’
It was unlikely this sort of information would have slipped Petra’s mind. Stevie watched her face, the picking fingers, said nothing.
Petra didn’t like silence. She found it uncomfortable when no one was talking. And she wanted to show off to Vadim.
‘She was going to be in the finals of the modelling competition,’ she said.
‘Go on, Petra. You’re being very helpful.’ Stevie smiled at her with a warmth she did not feel. Petra knew something and she wasn’t telling them.
‘Anyway, it doesn’t mean that much.’
Stevie kept her eyes steady on Petra’s face. ‘Were you also going to be in the competition?’
‘They asked but I said no. I wanted to get my nose job first.’
Petra was lying. It wasn’t hard to spot. The organisers had obviously asked Anya and not Petra to model for them and she was understandably jealous.
‘Vadim, have you got—?’ Vadim handed Stevie Anya’s chain. Stevie let the evil eye spin and sway in the air, the blue glass bright in the dim hospital light.
‘They called it nazaar-a shaitaan in Persia—the eye of Satan, who is the great tempter. Anya had it on her chain.’ Stevie paused slightly, watching for Petra’s reaction. ‘In tradition, the evil eye is cast by envious thoughts that bring the envied person withering and harm. People wear a blue eye because it is supposed to bounce the thoughts back to the person who is thinking them.’
‘So? It’s a stupid club thing. I don’t know why she wore it.’
Stevie kept her voice low and steady. ‘I think she wore it because she knew you were jealous.’
‘Crap! I don’t need to be jealous of her.’ Petra was angry now.
Good.
‘I’ve got my own contract lined up. I’m going to be shit-hot famous. Like Natalia Vodianova. That was the deal.’
That was the deal.
Stevie stood over Petra, leaned down. ‘Listen, Petra,’ her voice was a razor blade. ‘Anya’s been kidnapped by some very dangerous people. If you don’t tell me exactly what happened, the next time they call about the money I’m going to tell them you told us everything.’
No one had made verbal contact yet but Petra wasn’t to know that.
‘Do you know what people like that do to girls who snitch?’ Stevie leaned further in, her voice almost a whisper. ‘They call it “the joker”. They slice the corners of the girl’s mouth up on either side with razor blades, halfway through the cheek. For the rest of her life, the horrible scar makes the girl look like she’s smiling.’ Stevie saw the terror well up in Petra’s eyes and pressed on. ‘You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?’
Petra shook her head, numb.
‘It would be so easy for me to let your name slip,’ Stevie whispered.
‘I’d take it back—I really would if I could!’ Petra’s voice was laced with panic.
‘It’s too late, Petra. You made your choice. Helping us now is the only thing you can do to start making this right.’
Petra was crying now, her purple slits spilling trickles of clear slime.
‘This guy started talking to me at the club,’ she whimpered. ‘Anya had gone on stage and I was watching her. He said, “Oh she’s not as pretty as you!” then he said he was sorry and that Anya was obviously my friend and he shouldn’t say things like that. I said not to worry, that Anya thought she was so pretty, but that I was going to get a nose job and show everyone.’
Stevie nodded. ‘Good girl, go on.’
‘The guy said that Anya would do very well in a secondary market— like Greece or Japan—but that I had the potential to be a “top girl” and work in Paris and New York. He said he would like to introduce Anya to his friend who had an agency in Japan. If I would set up the meeting, he would persuade her to go to Japan and I would get a contract with a top agency. They