In the prison facility where Oksana had spent the last eight years, the inmates were roused from their slumber by an alarm, more akin to a siren, that blasted through speakers in the corner of each cell at exactly the same time every morning. It was like clockwork, literally. A routine that was so second nature now that Oksana doubted she would ever wake at a different time again, even if she were to get out of here one day. Some mornings though, just to mess with the guards, Oksana would remain beneath her thin duvet, feigning sleep until someone had to come and physically galvanise her into getting ready to traipse to the canteen for some beige breakfast or another. She'd never know that on those mornings the guards would bicker over who ventured into her cell the last time, and whose unlucky turn it was now. If Oksana did know, she would only be pleased to hear it.
On this particular morning though, the guards could refrain from bribing and bargaining with each other, because Oksana was up and dressed and waiting patiently to join the shuffling brigade to breakfast. She wouldn't be loitering, flirting coyly or gnashing her teeth at the other inmates either. She was perfectly content and focused on getting through breakfast with no time-consuming altercations, because this morning was her appointment with Dr Polastri and she was looking forward to it.
Intelligent conversation with a woman who Oksana could now admit to herself that she was finding more attractive with each visit; those one-hour sessions had become the highlight of Oksana's week. And, if she didn't have a reputation to uphold there might have even been a visible manifestation of her excitement as Oksana devoured her flavourless breakfast at a record pace.
"I missed you last week."
Oksana was seated at one of the long metal benches, screwed to the floor alongside the lengthy tables in the canteen, shovelling lumpy porridge into her mouth, when her imaginings were penetrated by a familiar voice. It was the voice of someone that Oksana hadn't thought about for well over a week now, let alone missed.
"Oh yeah?" Oksana replied through a mouthful of oaty mush. "Well, I am back now."
"I'm glad." Came the quiet reply. "Renate was a lot more… vocal, while you were away. She was bragging."
Oksana swallowed forcefully and then laughed harshly.
"She took credit for that? It was an infection that put me in the hospital, not her little joke with the plastic spoon. Amateur."
Oksana issued the final word loudly enough to catch the attention of surrounding inmates. She pronounced it properly in French too, ensuring that the inmates who already found her pretentious and superior were sure to only strengthen that belief.
"But it's better now? You're OK?" was the almost urgent response.
"Nadia. I am fine." Oksana assured her, reaching out to place her hand over the other woman's arm. "See?" she exclaimed, pulling up her prison sweatshirt to expose her stomach up to the edge of her white prison bra and reveal the un-bloodied patch that covered her nearly entirely healed wound.
There was a banging from the end of the table where a guard slammed a plastic cup down on the surface a few times.
"Astankova! We're here for breakfast not a show, cover yourself up!" the guard shouted down the length of the table.
Oksana bit back her instinctive response and roughly tugged her sweatshirt back down. Today was not the day to provoke a trip to Pargrave for answering back, or any other punishment that would keep her from her appointment.
"Anyway, I'm fine." Oksana huffed and Nadia nodded quickly.
Beneath the table Oksana felt Nadia press her leg closely against Oksana's and hold it there insistently.
"I will be in the library later." Nadia said just above a whisper, and then glanced quickly at Oksana before averting her eyes.
Oksana raised a single eyebrow. It was a tempting offer. Nadia was very responsive and Oksana had always quite enjoyed making her writhe and jolt with pleasure. Nadia was a good little spy to have on her side. She was quiet and could go unnoticed. She could provide Oksana with prison gossip and was always happy to do so. Oksana was aware that Nadia looked up to her and admired her and Oksana was only too happy to exploit that. Plus, a little physical affirmation of power never hurt anybody. Well, that wasn't true. But it never hurt Oksana, and that was what mattered.
"Not this morning." Oksana said simply, spooning another lump of porridge into her mouth. Porridge really shouldn't clump together like that. "I have an appointment." She said smugly, speaking with her mouth full.
"Oh." Nadia replied, shifting her leg away from Oksana's apologetically.
Oksana swallowed her porridge and washed it down with much needed water. She nodded patronisingly at Nadia.
"Maybe later, hmm?" Oksana offered as she rose to stand from the table with her emptied tray.
There was a loud banging from the end of the table once more.
"In your seat, Astankova!" came the guard's shout.
"But I am finished." Oksana complained petulantly.
"Well done, we'll be sure to give you a gold star." The guard said snidely, prompting scoffs and sniggers from the rest of the table's occupants. "Now sit down and wait until everyone is dismissed."
Oksana sat back down heavily and dropped her tray onto the table top with a clatter. She rested her cheek into her hand, her elbow firmly on the table, and sighed, sending a wisp of her hair momentarily awry. She surveyed the slow pace of some of the neighbouring eaters dismally.
"Want to hear about what happened in the showers yesterday?" Nadia asked hopefully from right next to Oksana's shoulder.
Oksana rolled her eyes and sighed again.
"Did somebody drop the soap?" She asked monotonously.
"Yes!" Nadia whispered excitedly. "And you won't believe what Renate did to her."
"Oh, I bet I will." Oksana said disinterestedly.
It took what felt like days for everybody around her to finish their breakfast and for the guards to dismiss their table from the canteen. Oksana hurried back to her cell for her toothbrush, managing to shake off Nadia along the way with the promise of maybe meeting her later near the natural history shelf in the library.
Oral hygiene had always been high on Oksana's list of priorities but today she spent an extra minute scrubbing her teeth clean before peering at herself in the slightly mottled mirror. She drowned out the chattering and squabbling of the women around her with her own thoughts. She ran a finger over her eyebrows. She wasn't a fan of the 'starving eyebrow' look, but even so, there were a couple of strays that she longed for the chance to pluck. Still, she looked good. Even with her hair in need of a cut (and ideally a colour), and a total lack of make-up, Oksana looked good.
"Stunning," she murmured to her own reflection.
Oksana nodded once and then smiled before stalking out of the bathroom, past the guard, and returning to her cell to wait for Pargrave to collect her and take her to her appointment.
She was sitting on the top bunk, her legs hanging over the edge and swinging gently when she heard Pargrave's footsteps approaching along the corridor outside. Oksana waited until Pargrave had just rounded the corner and then swung herself off the bed to the floor, her boots making noisy contact with the concrete floor as she landed.
"Oh for fu—" Pargrave let out, clutching a hand to his chest as he was startled backwards at Oksana's sudden appearance. "I wish you wouldn't do that." He uttered as he collected himself.
"I am feeling better." Oksana shrugged innocently.
"Yes, and don't we all know it." Bill replied with a knowing look.
"What?" Oksana let out with a hint of a smirk, "It wasn't my fault. That nurse wanted me from the start." Oksana explained.
"The thing is though, Astankova, you think everybody wants you." Bill countered.
"Most people do." Oksana nodded sagely.
"Right. Well, if you could at least try to manage your adoring fans in a way that didn't lead to me losing staff members, I would appreciate it." Bill replied flatly.
"I'll see what I can do." Oksana whispered conspiratorially.
"You do that," Bill agreed, "Now, are you ready to go? Dr Polastri was pleased to hear you're out of the hospital bay. I think."
"She called?" Oksana asked immediately.
"She did." Bill nodded, watching an uninhibited smile spread across Oksana's face.
"I am ready, let's go." Oksana said decisively and marched out of the cell, letting Bill hurry out behind.
Oksana kept up her pace all the way to the door of the appointment room, only slowing down for Bill to use his key card at various points, before she would stride onwards once more. By the time they reached the room, Bill had the distinct feeling of being someone scurrying after a member of the royal family, trying to keep up and ensure that no obstacle befell them.
"So I will come and get you in an—" Bill started just before he reached out his key card to allow Oksana access to the appointment room.
"In an hour! Yes, Pargrave, I know." Oksana issued impatiently.
"Pargrave?" Bill raised his eyebrows at Oksana.
"Mr Pargrave." Oksana huffed. "Are we done?"
"Yes. We're done." He said haltingly. He had never known Oksana so eager for an appointment with a psychologist and he could only hope she hadn't thought of some new way to torment Eve that she hadn't tried on any of her previous victims.
Bill swiped his key card and a little green light barely had time to flash before Oksana was pushing the door open, slinging a, "Bye Pargrave" cheekily over her shoulder and disappearing into the room.
Bill sighed and shook his head. If he hadn't already lost much of it, he thought his hair would be well and truly grey after the years spent navigating Astankova's moods.
Oksana took her usual seat in the appointment room and surveyed the woman before her. Her lustrous dark hair was already under control today, pinned back with an elegant silver clasp. Oksana found herself quietly disappointed to have missed the other woman pinning it back. She was in a pair of well cut cropped burgundy trousers and a black blazer, sleeves pushed back to just below her elbows. Her glasses were on and she perused her little leather bound notebook studiously.
"Hello Dr Polastri." Oksana said politely with a genuine smile.
There was a crackle of excitement in her stomach that had ignited into a small flame at the sight of the woman before her.
"Astankova." Came the curt reply.
There was no eye contact, no smile. The other woman didn't look up from her notebook at all. Oksana's eyebrows inched together. That was not the warm and welcoming response she had been expecting after their last interaction.
"I want to talk more about your father." Dr Polastri said resolutely.
"What?" Oksana breathed out incredulously.
"Your father. He seems to be quite a pivotal figure in your life. I think we should discuss him further."
It sounded so professional and cold. Uncaring and analytical. The flame in Oksana's stomach extinguished like a candle on a birthday cake being pinched between a wetted finger and thumb.
"No 'How are you feeling, Astankova?', 'Nice to see you up and about', 'You're looking well'?" Oksana asked, failing to keep the tone of hurt from her voice.
Finally Dr Polastri looked up from her notebook and peered through her glasses, fixing her eyes on Oksana's confused expression.
"I'm your psychologist." She said simply.
Oksana opened her mouth and a small stunned croak came forth, but nothing else. What was going on here?
"So, your father. Was he strict with you?" Dr Polastri prompted.
"You brought me flowers and a gift." Oksana replied nonplussed. She watched Dr Polastri shift in her seat at that, she saw her uncross her legs and then re-cross them.
"I would do that for any of my clients." Dr Polastri said tightly.
"Liar." Oksana shot back at once. "That is a lie."
"We're not playing truth and lie games today, Astankova. And I asked you a question." Dr Polastri replied agitatedly, almost angrily.
Oksana recoiled. Her breathing was starting to quicken and she could feel her temper beginning to creep in at the edges in response to Dr Polastri's tone.
"Why are you lying?" Oksana urged.
"You are not my only client. Just the only one who was hospitalised recently. I brought you flowers. Now answer the question." Dr Polastri replied, she was speaking calmly but Oksana wasn't buying it, her voice was tight and closely controlled.
"You would buy gifts for your other clients? You would hold their hand?" Oksana asked disbelievingly.
"Astankova, we are not discussing this further. I am here to assess you, so I need you to answer my questions." Dr Polastri tried again.
"Fuck you." Oksana spat furiously. "What is your problem?"
"My problem is I am trying to do my job and you are being obstructive!" Dr Polastri replied, finally losing control of her feigned calm.
"And you're being a bitch! Seriously, is it your time of the month or something?" Oksana rebuked scathingly.
"You can't ask me that," Dr Polastri exclaimed, "It's increasingly clear that boundaries don't mean much to you, but that is still an inappropriate question."
"Are you not getting any? Can your husband not get you off anymore? Marriage gone stale?" Oksana pushed.
Dr Polastri opened her mouth to reply.
"Bet I could find out exactly what does it for you." Oksana added silkily. And she believed it too. She had imagined a few scenarios now; she had a few ideas in mind that Dr Polastri would probably enjoy. Or at least Oksana certainly would.
Dr Polastri, to Oksana's surprise, let out a dry, humourless laugh.
"Like you did with that nurse?" Dr Polastri bit out.
The room fell silent. The two women found themselves staring at one another. Dr Polastri looked as though she wanted to pluck those last words out of the air and swallow them back out of existence. Oksana looked taken aback, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open a little. Then a knowing smile crept onto her lips.
"Ohhhhh." Oksana let out deliberately. "Dr Polastri, you're not feeling a little jealous are you?" she asked with quiet glee.
Dr Polastri scoffed derisively.
"Again, I am your psychologist. I am not jealous that you manipulated that poor young nurse into your bed. If I feel anything it's what a shame it is that she wasted her career on you." Dr Polastri said. Her tone was matter of fact, and her sentiment may have been believable if it weren't for the flush of red encroaching up her neck.
"How do you know she didn't manipulate me? She was the one in a position of power." Oksana replied with fake meekness as she curled her shoulders in to make herself appear small and weak.
Dr Polastri scoffed once more.
"Oh please. I have met you, Astankova." She pointed out.
Oksana returned to her full stature and shrugged.
"Whatever. It wasn't a waste of her career though. She had a good time, I promise." Oksana finished with a wink.
"God, you're a brat." Dr Polastri let out, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Excuse me?" Oksana asked coldly.
"You think everyone is just dying for a chance to be with you, don't you? Your ego is practically palpable." Dr Polastri went on.
"Oh, so you're this worked up about me fucking that nurse because you're not jealous? Because you don't wish you were the one I was fucking?" Oksana hissed, leaning towards Dr Polastri, her eyes glinting dangerously.
"Of course not! Are you insane?" Dr Polastri exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.
Oksana laughed manically for a moment and then her face returned all too quickly to a neutral expression.
"Isn't it your job to figure that out?" She asked icily.
Dr Polastri said nothing. She had almost shrunk in her chair, deflated and defeated. A minute passed. Oksana was resolutely not looking at Dr Polastri, she had twisted in her chair and pulled one boot-clad food to rest on the edge of the seat.
"You're not insane." Dr Polastri said quietly at last.
"Is that your professional opinion? Can I go now? Or are you still deciding whether I might be a psychopath?" Oksana replied sulkily, chewing the skin next to her thumbnail on one hand while she inspected the fingernails on the other.
"Oksana." Dr Polastri breathed tiredly.
Oksana's eyes snapped up at once, her thumb dropping from her mouth, as her gaze landed on Dr Polastri's downcast expression.
"Sorry, I meant Astanko—" Dr Polastri started.
"You know," Oksana interrupted, adjusting her body so that she was facing forwards again, "I was actually looking forward to today. I enjoy our conversations. Well, not this one so much, but the last ones have been nice. And when you came to the hospital to visit, and bought me those ugly flowers—"
"They're not ugly." Dr Polastri mumbled.
"…those hideous flowers, it actually meant something, you know? I thought you cared about me a bit. I really liked you." Oksana finished leadingly.
"I do care." Dr Polastri cut in. "I do."
"No, no," Oksana shook her head, "You take awful flowers to all your clients, you said so."
Dr Polastri pursed her lips.
"It was a lie." She said through gritted teeth.
"Ha!" Oksana exclaimed loud enough to make the other woman jump. "I knew it! I told you it was a lie. You would only bring flowers to me."
"I don't think a lot of my clients would appreciate flowers. Most are middle-aged men imprisoned for weird sex stuff." Dr Polastri mused aloud and Oksana frowned.
The room was quiet for a moment once more.
"So why were you being such a bitch?" Oksana asked lightly.
"I was not being a—" Eve started and then stopped and sighed, "It's my time of the month?" she tried.
Oksana narrowed her eyes dubiously at Dr Polastri.
"Hmm." She drawled. "It was not about me fucking the nurse?"
"Well, I do think you should show a little more concern for the consequences of your actions. The woman has lost her job." Dr Polastri reasoned.
"But you were not jealous?" Oksana probed, an air of hope to her voice, and entirely ignoring Dr Polastri's words.
"No." Eve replied hurriedly, "That would be highly unprofessional."
"So?" Oksana asked indifferently.
"Look, I'm sorry I was a… bitch. How about we start this session over?" Dr Polastri suggested.
Oksana eyed her curiously for a moment. Clearly Dr Polastri was more complex than Oksana had previously thought. But that was OK; she had time to figure her out. There was hardly anything else going on in her life. This could still be fun. Besides, Oksana had seen Dr Polastri angry now, and there was something quite exhilarating about it.
"OK." She agreed. "On one condition."
"What?" asked Dr Polastri cautiously.
"Tell me your name." Oksana said with a daring smile.