Free The Lazarus Effect by H. J Golakai Page A

Her snobby cats Ginger and Wasabi, strict sushi diet and unrelenting peppiness had pushed Vee over the edge. Luckily, Mia was a peaceful soul who shunned confrontation. She’d moved to Observatory, where her kookiness was appreciated.
    Vee plucked a wad from the post box, not bothering to look them over. Bills and takeaway menus, it only ever was. Through force of habit, she scanned the dark street as she closed the gate after her. A fat-cat vehicle, luxurious in shine, hulked a tad too close to her driveway. Must be her neighbour’s, the one constantly into new toys; she’d have a word with him about boundaries tomorrow.
    Vee dumped her handbag and laptop on the kitchen counter and, without switching on any of the lights, opened the fridge. Milk. Mineral water. Leftover fragments of fish gravy, jollof rice and boiled sweet potatoes. Bread and Windhoek lager. Fresh salad ingredients. Vee scratched her nose and popped the freezer compartment. Free-range chicken and prime beef cuts. She closed the fridge. Bottle of wine on the kitchen counter. She paused, and then sniffed. Asian food. No dog.
    ‘You want another beer?’ she called out.
    ‘Nah, I’m good, just opened this one,’ a male voice called back.
    She grabbed the wine and headed for the lounge, still not flipping any switches. Criminals were best confronted in the dark.
    ‘Didn’t I warn you to stop breaking into my house? Don’t you see how creepy this has got?’
    Joshua waved. ‘I took your concerns under advisement. See, I opened the curtains. So it wouldn’t be, like, evil villain skulking in the dark when you walked in.’ Light from the streetlamps filtered through the windows. The onyx-black, ice-blue-eyed husky near Joshua’s feet didn’t budge, simply swished his tail in welcome. Treachery and deceit in her own home. Males always stuck together.
    ‘Come on, you’re glad I dropped by. Besides, breaking and entering’s a skill I learnt from the best.’ Joshua tipped his beer at her in salute. ‘Like all skills, if you don’t use it, you lose it. Hungry? Dig in, please.’
    Vee made a grateful sound through a mouthful of Thai noodles. It was very good. Too good to be a cheap takeaway. Wiser not to ask.
    ‘I don’t taste any meat in this.’ She stirred the veggie-laden mix with the chopsticks. ‘There’s no meat? It’s meat-free?’
    ‘That’s mine. Yours is in the microwave.’
    Vee got up, zapped the carton of pad thai and sat back down. Blowing on it to cool it, she said, ‘Throwing money around doesn’t impress me, negro. For your information, I don’t keep bread in the fridge. Or buy pinot noir. And free-range chicken? What’s wrong with normal chicken?’
    ‘That’s an excellent pinot from a grateful client, you refugee. Don’t refrigerate it. And learn to buy better food for the sake of your health.’ He looked severe as she rolled her eyes. ‘Remember, you’ve only got one ovary, cripple.’
    ‘Whatever,’ Vee said. She scarfed noodles down until the snarl of hunger was gone, before slowing to leisurely bites. She looked him over: he hadn’t even gone home first to change out of his bum wear before he’d sneaked in. This was their thing and he’d missed it; she’d missed it, hugely. She stretched her legs until they reached his and tapped her boots against his loafers. A smile darted over his eyes, barely lifting the corners of his mouth. He tapped back. Vee cleared her throat. ‘How’s the girlfriend?’
    ‘Here we go.’
    ‘What? You can take a cheap shot at my ovaries, but I can’t ask questions?’
    He folded his arms. ‘I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m saving the spot. You know that. So stop asking.’
    She rolled her eyes, appalled at the heat tickling her cheeks.
    Unsafe ground. Their … whatever this was … was built on it. Grudging respect, liberal scoops of abuse, a tacit flicker of something that tiptoed ever closer over the years. Titus had been their referee. Now that he was gone and they