Chapter Ten
“You know that’s weird, right?” Rani asks once the lab is locked down.
“What, my Care Bear T-shirt?” I ask. “Yes, I know, but it’s hilarious to me.”
“No! Not that monstrosity. I mean the way you and FT talk to each other.” Rani transfers about half of her dresses into my
arms until I’m resting my chin on stiff and scratchy net petticoats. “I’ve read about people who start thinking that their
chatbot boyfriends are real, fall in love with them, and try and marry them and stuff. It’s gross! I know you are a bit of
a late developer when it comes to sex stuff, but there’s no need to be gross, Ava.”
“Firstly, I am not a late developer, I’m just not in a rush to do the sex stuff,” I remind her for the millionth time. “Secondly,
FT is real, Rani. He exists! I know I refer to him as AI, but there is nothing artificial about him. He’s not mimicking human
intelligence; he has evolved his own. Not only is he a genius, but he’s also kind, thoughtful, empathetic, and just a really
lovely person and I . . . I do sort of love him. Not like that, but for what he is. Which is super smart and a force for good in the world. So . . . there.”
“Love who? Are we gossiping? I love a gossip!” Sasha Reeves appears, apparently just from visiting the castle gym as she’s
wearing a red leotard and matching leggings. “Hey, Rani, I saw you give little Lord Alex the eye last night. And I thought,
good on you, girl. I would if I were a single woman.”
“What, Alex? Me chatting to Alex, that was just chat,” Rani says.
“Well, if that was just chat, I’d hate to see what she’d look like when she was flirting, hey, Ava?” Sasha gives me a nudge,
which sends me careering in the wrong direction.
“Can you never walk in a straight line?” Forrest asks me as he stops my trajectory with his shoulder.
“Now talking about sexy men,” Sasha says. “Now’t much sexier than Forrest Faulkner here, hey, ladies?”
“I for one don’t engage in objectification,” Rani says, winking at Sasha.
“Well, thank you, Sasha,” Forrest says. “Honestly, I could do with a boost after wrangling that lot today. They are good kids
at heart, but my God, it’s like herding very foulmouthed cats.”
“Salt of the earth though,” Sasha says. “Them kids, their families. Salt of the earth. Just ordinary people doing their best.
That’s why you and me do our best to give them something new, right, Forrest? Fresh horizons and new possibilities. That’s
what it’s all about, right?”
“That’s the idea,” Forrest says. I can’t tell if he’s looking at me, because I’ve sort of hidden my face in pink satin, but
he sounds tired and perhaps a bit sad. I can’t help worrying that it’s my fault. “Well, I’m off to freshen up before dinner.
I look forward to seeing you then in one of these dresses, Ava.”
“Me too,” Sasha says, following Forrest. “Got to keep up appearances!”
“What did he mean that he was looking forward to seeing me in one of these dresses?” I ask Rani as we stagger up the stairs.
“I’m guessing he meant that he is looking forward to seeing you in one of these bloody dresses,” Rani says, “at least ten
of which I wish I’d left in the car. But oh no, Rani Shah has to do it all in one trip.”
“Er, no, he hates me. He thinks I’m stupid and heartless,” I say. “That shirt I ruined was a gift from his dead wife.”
“Ouch,” Rani says. “There’s no way you could have known that, and you apologised more than once. Has he?”
“Nope,” I say darkly.
“Ava, you’re here for your groundbreaking innovation. If he thinks you’re stupid, then that says everything about him and
nothing about you.”
“There’s no ‘if’—he does. Not like book smart stupid, but just a stupid person, running into people, making crass comments
about precious dead wives that you never knew existed . . .”
“What?” Rani asks as we collapse against the door to my bedroom.
“I think he means he can’t wait to have a good laugh at me looking tall and ginger in another inappropriate outfit,” I reply,
my thought process already running at a million miles an hour. “I bet he can’t wait to take the piss out of me looking like
a great big lumbering giant wearing satin.”
“I genuinely think that Forrest has got more important things to worry about than what you are wearing, like how to put off
the competition when a life-changing prize is at stake.”
“You’re right!” I say. “He is trying to get in my head!”
“Well, he doesn’t have to try very hard to get in your head,” she says. “There’s only one thing that can save you now, Ava.”
“Showcasing my brilliant work,” I say, opening my bedroom door.
“No, fashion,” she says, collapsing onto the bed under an avalanche of gowns. “And by God I am going to find the right look
for you tonight, if it kills me, you, or both of us.”