10. In The Shower With Deb

Manga and Deborah took to the mat and performed the ceremonial greeting, then things got physical fast. Kathy flinched as she watched twists and thrusts, dodges and slashes.

Deb was good. Several times she broke through the instructor’s defenses to hold her knife at his padded neck or press the point to his thick chest protector.

Kathy couldn’t follow all the moves but it was obvious Deb had more than attack skills. She could psyche out her opponent, moving in ways that made her look vulnerable but had the effect of wrong-footing her attacker.

Each time, just before making ‘the kill’ she yelled out something that sounded like, “Eeyass!”

After the session, Manga patted Deb on the back and headed for the locker room. Deb called out to the other observers, “Thanks guys, I’m beat but maybe see you in Shonseys later.” To Kathy she said, “Talk to me while we shower.”

Kathy was aghast. “I prefer to shower at home, But I’ll come in with you.”

In the tiny locker room she perched on a stool as Deb showered not 12 inches away behind a pineapple patterned curtain. “So what do you think?” Deborah called cheerfully.

You can do this, Kathy told herself. “I did see one thing,” she began. There was silence behind the curtain. “It was amazing, the first time you broke through his defense and got your knife to his throat, you did a double twirl before you lunged.”

“Thanks,” shouted Deborah over the running water.

“But it looked kind of over the top,” said Kathy. Silence. “It just looked showy,” Kathy soldiered on. “Maybe a waste of energy? Like a single twirl would have done?” She had no idea what she was talking about and held her breath.

Deborah peered round the pineapple curtain. “You’re right,” she said. “Double twirl was showmanship. It could have opened me up for attack.” She ducked back into the shower and shouted, “Anything else?”

Feeling more confident, Kathy told her everything she’d noticed, truthfully not much, but she embellished it with phrases she’d picked up in prepping for going undercover.

Deborah listened intently as she toweled her naked body, quite unaware of Kathy’s discomfort in the confined space.

At home with a glass of wine, steeping in a hot bath to ease her muscles Kathy reflected. This was not the woman the magazine staff had described, difficult, aggressive, unhappy. She seemed completely engaged in her sport, generous with her expertise and genuinely interested in Kathy’s thoughts.

She thought of what Deborah had said as they walked to their cars. With her hair still wet and eyes aglow, doing that funny bouncing walk, she’d said, “Fighting with a knife is a noble art. It’s got a bad rap, but in its pure form it’s amazing. Fear surrounds you, but at the moment you stab them,” she paused and laughed, squeezing Kathy’s shoulder. “I mean, when you strike, when you win, you feel like a god. The Winner! The Taker. A real kill it must feel like absorbing their life energy, it must feel amazing.” Then she made a ‘toodles’ wave with both hands, got in her car and drove away, leaving Kathy feeling slightly sick.

Now, lying in her bath, she pressed a finger hard into her breastbone and held it there, thinking about a practice dummy leaking sawdust, and then about a woman leaking blood into a paisley carpet.