Page 38 of The Betrothal

She sobered slightly, chewing her lip and swirling the ice in her glass. “None, yet.”

“You sound expectant?” I watched her as she thought.

“Not expectant. Just not naïve.” She shrugged but seemed anything but nonchalant, her demeanour became guarded and I cursed myself.

“The world’s a dangerous place.” She nodded slowly at my comment. “I didn’t think many women trained self-defence?”

Her eyes rose to meet mine, hesitant, she waited to see if I continued, but I left it hanging.

“They don’t.” She scrutinised me for my reaction but I forced myself to remain still. The woman opposite me had felt the need to learn self-defence despite it being extremely restricted and all women having a guardian – the term disgusted me. I knew if women wanted to defend themselves they could attend state-provided sessions on defusing dangerous situations. But not classes, and definitely not combat classes.

“I was lucky. I had some good friends on campus.”

I waited, smiling, hoping she’d offer me more but she quietened.

Footsteps on the stairs announced Ben’s arrival. He’d slipped inside a while ago and retreated to his own space, which I knew would take a good hour.

“There’s a sandwich under the serving dish,” I called out without turning.

“Thanks, Seb.” I heard the dish lift.

“Could you grab the drinks?” I asked.

“Yes.”

He approached a few minutes later, slipping the bottle into my hand and edging around the room before carefully dropping into a large chair at the furthest side.

Izzy watched him from the corner of her eye, then looked to me, head tilting in silent communication.

“Killer here was just talking about her jiu-jitsu training.” I observed Izzy as I spoke to Ben but saw his head lift in interest. His glasses were discarded on the coffee table so I could see his eyes, which scanned Izzy with interest.

“Hardly.” Izzy clammed up immediately.

“Really?” Ben’s voice was lifted, curious. “I’d like to learn some, if I ever could.”

Izzy turned to him, surprise in her slightly parted lips. “I’m sure you can?”

Ben examined her quietly, his food forgotten, but then lifted a shoulder. “I’m not good enough with touching.”

I thought I could see the gears moving behind Izzy’s eyes; she noticeably relaxed as the realisation settled over her.

“Yeah?” She rotated herself, distance increasing between us but allowing herself to make steady eye contact with Ben. “It can be a lot, even with women.”

Ben nodded. “It’s the smells too.”

Izzy took an audible slow inhale.

“Deodorant, sweat, aftershaves.” He shrugged. “But if I could do any martial art, it would be that one. I like the control of it.”

Izzy smiled. “Me too.”

Ben opened his mouth to speak then paused but shortly tried again. “Maybe, over the next few weeks, you could teach me some?” His smile was sweet. I wouldn’t say anything but I doubted he’d get that comfortable that quickly.

“I could teach you how to do it to Seb?” She grinned at him, her offering earning a large smile from Ben at her understanding, and a snort from me.

“I’d be pinned down by Benji any day. Especially if you’re going to demonstrate everything on me first.” They both turned to me, finding me grinning, wearing almost matching looks of exasperation.

The distant sound of beeping indicated the washing machine had finally finished the very long wash and dry cycle I had put it on… Izzy stood immediately to retrieve the items, emerging with a small pile in each hand. She’d folded both sets of clothes and I applauded my decision to keep my smalls out of it for now.