What kind of treatment has she received to make her act this way? She looks like an abused puppy who keeps going back for more, hoping, always hoping, that this time there’ll be a scrap of kindness. I imagine her owners, circling her, and wonder if she’s being watched now.

A crappy Ford-type Garda car eventually arrives, and a man and woman step out. Why didn’t they send an ambulance?

‘Ok?’ the female Guard says. ‘Was it you who called?’

I nod.

‘What have we here?’ The two of them look down at the girl, then at each other, and without speaking, the man lifts the girl, who’s light as air, and places her gently in the back seat. The woman hands me back my jumper.

‘Is this yours? What are you doing out this late at night?’

I tell them I’m just on my way home from a party.

‘On your own? At this hour? What are you doing walking around this area anyway?’ She gestures to the sleeping girl in the back, her black lacy push-up bra visible beneath her flimsy top.

‘Can you get a blanket for her?’ I ask the man, who throws a scratchy-looking tartan blanket that is lying on the back seat over her.

‘Hop in, we’re bringing you home,’ he says.

I tell them I’m fine, fancy a bit of air, had a row with the boyfriend, need to clear the head.

‘Where do you live?’ the woman asks. I give them an address that isn’t mine. ‘We’re dropping you back there now, and we want to speak to your parents, make sure you’re safe.’

‘Look, I’m fine, ok? It’s this girl you need to be worried about. She looks like she’s been attacked, or taken an overdose or something.’

Both of them look at her through the window.

‘Do you know her?’ I ask.

‘’Fraid so,’ the man says.

‘She looks very young.’

‘So do you, missy. Now, where do you really live?’

I’m confused why they’re not bringing the girl straight to the hospital.

‘She’ll sleep it off, be right as rain in the morning,’ the woman says, not sounding convinced.

‘What’ll will happen to her?’ I ask.

‘Don’t you worry about her. Worry about yourself.’

I thank them kindly for their concern, and leg it. No one comes chasing after me. Even I can see that this is kind of prophetic; a loaded not-so-coded message from yer woman above. But things will never get that bad for me.

I am, after all, a girl used to getting herself into and out of some ugly scrapes.

11. Nico

11

Nico