Yet it was here she had ended up, here that she spent much of her long, meaningless days. She had come down a long way in the world, and it had happened so quickly. After living a well-ordered life with financial security, one day she had dropped it all to indulge in various chemical substances on a full-time basis. One thing led to another, and one day the benches frequented by the lushes by the East Gate had simply seemed like a better place to waste her life than the solitude of a one-bedroom flat in Gråbo.

They were almost coming to blows, and the profanities were coming thick and fast. Everyone was involved in some way, except for Jeanette. Curious passersby stopped to see how it would pan out, while the police were conspicuous by their absence at the very moment they were most needed. The volume was becoming unbearable and Jeanette decided to go. Not far, just towards the Money Box and Dalman Gate tower, where she would be able to slump down on the grassy slope until everything had calmed down.

The very moment she got up, she was floored by an elbow gone astray. When she came to, she was lying on her back on the asphalt path, her nose bleeding. The dispute had ceased and everyone’s attention was directed at Jeanette.

Both combatants were repentant and helped to move her into a semi-upright position on the bench. One of them, Lubbi, sat down with his arm around her neck and tilted her head back.

“Nanna is fetching ice from the Indian corner shop,” he said. “Sorry. We really didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” said Jeanette. “But there’s no bloody need to carry on like that at all.”

“Want some refreshment?” Lubbi asked in a transparent ploy to change the subject.

“Aren’t there lots of people standing around watching?”

“Who cares? Anyway, they’ve gone. The ambulance is on the way.”

“You’re joking?”

“I’m joking,” Lubbi confirmed with a hearty roar of laughter. “Here you go.”

Then he gently lifted her head and gave her a slug of vodka straight from the bottle. It might not have been exactly what she needed, but she didn’t decline it. It felt good to be fussed over; for once she was the focus of everyone’s attention. She leaned back again to stop the flow of blood.

“Here she comes, our very own Barbamama,” said Lubbi.

Nanna sat down on the bench on her other side. She had managed to procure a plastic bag of ice that she now applied to Jeanette’s nose.

“How does it feel?” she asked. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s working,” said Jeanette.

“Thank you for making peace between those two tearaways.”

“Did I?”

“You must have noticed,” said Nanna with a sneer at Lubbi. “Now they’re being nothing but doves of peace.”

Yet another guffaw from Lubbi. Jeanette laughed too and straightened herself on the bench.

“I think it’s stopped bleeding,” she said putting the ice pack down on the ground in front of her.