Free Almost Perfect by James Goss Page A

eye.’
    ‘Not exactly, no,’ said Gwen, carefully. ‘I just don’t think you’d do your best work.’
    ‘Are you kidding? I’d be brilliant.’
    ‘I’m sure you would, Jack,’ said Gwen patiently. ‘But I don’t think we’d learn anything. You’d just walk out of there with a pile of phone numbers, some broken hearts and a hickey.’
    ‘That would be from Ianto,’ sighed Jack. ‘Too much of the teeth.’
    Gwen gently stirred her coffee and idly wondered how often the two of them actually had sex. She suspected that most of the time they just stood in a room naked, hands on hips, pouting at each other.
    Ianto just looked deeply embarrassed. ‘I think Gwen’s right.’
    ‘Great,’ said Gwen. ‘I’ll pop home and change.’

EMMA WEBSTER IS SELECTING
HER NEXT VICTIM
    Hi, I’m Martin. My friends call me Marty.
    OK. Now, I’m gonna pass based purely on the dress sense .
    Hello. Hi. I’m Selwyn. I’ve never done this before. I’m with the
    Hmm. Can we give him better – is it teeth? Or hair? I dunno .
    Hi, I’m William. My friends call me Bill, and I hope you will too.
    We can’t fix tosser, can we?
    Hi, I’m Harry. I’m
    Oh. He looks amazing. Can we make him just a little taller?
    Greetings!
    No .
    Hi, I’m Rhys. I work in haulage.
    Yes!

GWEN IS LOSING THE
ARGUMENT
    Gwen let herself very quietly into the flat. It was a move she’d practised from back in the days when she still went out, taking her shoes off on the stairs and sneaking in giggling, trying not to wake up Rhys, who’d almost always be sat on the sofa, waiting up for her, passed out among a jungle of pizza and beer bottles. Once she’d even found him and Banana Boat, stretched out, game controls in their hands, as riderless cars zoomed round and round on the screen. How long ago was that? It had been ages. Honestly, you turn thirty, you get married, you vow the party won’t stop, but—
    ‘Love?’ Rhys was wandering through from the bedroom. Gwen froze, caught quivering on the step. She switched on her best smile. ‘Hiiiiiiii…’ she managed. It never failed.
    ‘Right,’ said Rhys, folding his arms. Damn.
    ‘What’re you doing home? I thought you were working tonight.’
    ‘I am,’ Gwen tried stretching the smile a tiny little bit further, but Rhys just walked closer.
    ‘You are up to something.’
    ‘Uh-huh,’ said Gwen, pottering through to the kitchen. He followed her. Bad sign. She turned. ‘Look, it’s undercover work. Nothing dangerous, but I’m just popping in for a change of clothes. You know. Don’t want to stick out.’
    Rhys’s gaze continued to stare, pitiless and unblinking, at her jeans, T-shirt and leather jacket. It was at times like this he reminded her of her dad – Gwen could wrap him round her finger, unless he wheeled out the hard stare. Gwen sometimes wondered if Dad had taught it to Rhys.
    She took a couple of steps towards the fridge, took out a can, opened it, and started to drink. All the while Rhys stared on.
    ‘Oh,’ she said, toughing it out, brightly, ‘I don’t suppose the immersion’s on is it? I’ve just got time for a shower, and then I can be all out of your way.’
    Rhys tilted his head to one side and smiled. It was a dangerous smile. ‘Normally, if it’s Torchwood, an evening out involves you running through muddy tunnels. Suddenly you’re coming home for new clothes and a shower. Now, I don’t believe Jack’s got classier, has he, love?’
    ‘Well, no,’ Gwen admitted. ‘Look – I just don’t want you worrying.’
    ‘I worry every time you go to work in the morning.’ Rhys’s voice was rising a little. ‘I worry every time I try and call you and I can’t get through. I worry about you, full stop.’
    Aww, bless, thought Gwen, and nearly kissed him. ‘Look, it’s really easy, Rhys. Something’s killing people. Remember the corpse I found at the restaurant? It’s not the only one. Several men have died on dates in the last week. So… I’m going