eye. ‘Who did this?’ she demanded, knowing that what had happened to the girl’s face had been no accident.
The girl winced as the flannel passed over a particularly tender spot. ‘I fell, doesn’t matter.’
Edie had heard it all before, she had walked into a fair few doorframes herself whilst married to Simon. ‘What, you fell into someone’s fist?’
The girl pulled her head away. ‘Doesn’t matter, anyway who the fuck are you and where’s Dolly?’
Edie sat back on her haunches as the girl hauled herself into a sitting position and leaned against the wall.
‘Shouldn’t it be me asking you that question? Who are you and what are you doing here?’ Edie said, less evenly than she would have liked to. The girl was clearly on her uppers, scruffy, dirty and smelling of unwashed flesh, neglect and sadness. Sadness had a smell all of its own and was too familiar to Edie for her to mistake it for anything else. It had the scent of misery and the tang of salt.
The girl attempted a scowl, but it clearly pained her. ‘Where’s Dolly?’
‘She died, three weeks ago. She was my aunt.’
The girl shook her head slowly and winced as the movement hit home. ‘Shit, poor Doll. I didn’t know she had family.’
It felt like an accusation and Edie herself wanted to wince away from it. ‘We weren’t close,’ she muttered. ‘How did you know her?’
The girl shrugged, her face crumpling in pain as a reaction to the movement. ‘Just did, she used to help me out a bit, you know.’
Edie didn’t, but could guess. The state of the girl told her everything she needed to know, at first she had suspected drugs but the thin arms showed no signs of needle marks, just the evidence of homelessness and malnutrition. ‘Is that why you broke in, because Dolly used to help you?’
‘I didn’t break in, the door was open.’ the girl said, cringing again.
‘Look, I’m going to go next door and get you some painkillers – don’t move, I won’t be long.’ It seemed pointless to do anything else, the girl was clearly suffering and Edie wasn’t going to get much further with her at this rate.
The ever organised Lena had painkillers in her kitchen cupboard, in the same plastic tub where Edie also found sticking plaster, dressings and antiseptic cream. She assumed that Lena wouldn’t mind and took what she needed, fully intending to replace it all when she could. While she rummaged she considered the good chance that the girl would have gone by the time she got back. If she had, she had, but on the off chance she also took a tin of soup and a few slices of bread.
To her surprise the girl had remained exactly where Edie had left her, looking pale and weak. ‘I thought you might have done a runner,’ she said.
‘Nowhere to run to.’ the girl answered blandly.
Edie dressed and taped the cut above her eye, fed her two analgesics and dampened the flannel with cold water so that the girl could hold it against her eye. ‘Reckon you can make it downstairs? I brought you some food.’
A faint flicker of enthusiasm wafted across the girl’s battered face. ‘Food would be good, I haven’t eaten since yesterday.’
When the girl was at the table, drinking down her soup with a vigour that belied her fragile state, Edie decided that it was time for answers. The girl’s plight had brought out her sympathies, but she wanted to know who this young woman was and why she had walked into Dolly’s house broken and bleeding. ‘So, now you are patched up, fed and watered – are you going to tell me what happened and why you came here?’
The girl mopped up the last trickle of soup with a crust of bread and swallowed it whole. ‘Got kicked out of my gaff, had nowhere else to go – I figured Dolly would bail me out for the night. She sometimes would, depended on what mood she was in.’
Edie nodded. ‘What happened to your face?’
The girl shrugged. ‘Got smacked by that bastard Johnno, reckoned I was losing him
The girl winced as the flannel passed over a particularly tender spot. ‘I fell, doesn’t matter.’
Edie had heard it all before, she had walked into a fair few doorframes herself whilst married to Simon. ‘What, you fell into someone’s fist?’
The girl pulled her head away. ‘Doesn’t matter, anyway who the fuck are you and where’s Dolly?’
Edie sat back on her haunches as the girl hauled herself into a sitting position and leaned against the wall.
‘Shouldn’t it be me asking you that question? Who are you and what are you doing here?’ Edie said, less evenly than she would have liked to. The girl was clearly on her uppers, scruffy, dirty and smelling of unwashed flesh, neglect and sadness. Sadness had a smell all of its own and was too familiar to Edie for her to mistake it for anything else. It had the scent of misery and the tang of salt.
The girl attempted a scowl, but it clearly pained her. ‘Where’s Dolly?’
‘She died, three weeks ago. She was my aunt.’
The girl shook her head slowly and winced as the movement hit home. ‘Shit, poor Doll. I didn’t know she had family.’
It felt like an accusation and Edie herself wanted to wince away from it. ‘We weren’t close,’ she muttered. ‘How did you know her?’
The girl shrugged, her face crumpling in pain as a reaction to the movement. ‘Just did, she used to help me out a bit, you know.’
Edie didn’t, but could guess. The state of the girl told her everything she needed to know, at first she had suspected drugs but the thin arms showed no signs of needle marks, just the evidence of homelessness and malnutrition. ‘Is that why you broke in, because Dolly used to help you?’
‘I didn’t break in, the door was open.’ the girl said, cringing again.
‘Look, I’m going to go next door and get you some painkillers – don’t move, I won’t be long.’ It seemed pointless to do anything else, the girl was clearly suffering and Edie wasn’t going to get much further with her at this rate.
The ever organised Lena had painkillers in her kitchen cupboard, in the same plastic tub where Edie also found sticking plaster, dressings and antiseptic cream. She assumed that Lena wouldn’t mind and took what she needed, fully intending to replace it all when she could. While she rummaged she considered the good chance that the girl would have gone by the time she got back. If she had, she had, but on the off chance she also took a tin of soup and a few slices of bread.
To her surprise the girl had remained exactly where Edie had left her, looking pale and weak. ‘I thought you might have done a runner,’ she said.
‘Nowhere to run to.’ the girl answered blandly.
Edie dressed and taped the cut above her eye, fed her two analgesics and dampened the flannel with cold water so that the girl could hold it against her eye. ‘Reckon you can make it downstairs? I brought you some food.’
A faint flicker of enthusiasm wafted across the girl’s battered face. ‘Food would be good, I haven’t eaten since yesterday.’
When the girl was at the table, drinking down her soup with a vigour that belied her fragile state, Edie decided that it was time for answers. The girl’s plight had brought out her sympathies, but she wanted to know who this young woman was and why she had walked into Dolly’s house broken and bleeding. ‘So, now you are patched up, fed and watered – are you going to tell me what happened and why you came here?’
The girl mopped up the last trickle of soup with a crust of bread and swallowed it whole. ‘Got kicked out of my gaff, had nowhere else to go – I figured Dolly would bail me out for the night. She sometimes would, depended on what mood she was in.’
Edie nodded. ‘What happened to your face?’
The girl shrugged. ‘Got smacked by that bastard Johnno, reckoned I was losing him
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