‘Yeah, but this is … It’s to do with you not being in danger when you leave here. Because the police had to come and rescue you.’ Lena’s tone firm, like she’s dealing with a scummy customer claiming she hadn’t been given the right change. ‘They’ve reported or registered or whatever they call it … There needs to be this whole assessment process with a social worker and all that. For your own safety.’

So much heat all at once in her face and chest. ‘Bloody ridiculous. Talking about me like I’m a child. Or a geriatric! And to a kid, as if you’d know anything.’

‘I’m not … You’ve been asleep and I’m the only one here. Who else were they meant to talk to?’

‘It’s degrading!’

‘Mum said she can fly down if—’

‘If I want to be further degraded? Yeah, that’s all I need. God.’

‘Okay. Is there someone else then? If you don’t want me here, I mean? Is there someone else you want me to call?’ Tears running down Lena’s face and, ah, this is pain right here. Broken bones are nothing. Suck it up, woman. Suck it up.

‘No. No. Sorry. Thank you for being here,’ she manages to say.

‘It’s going to be all right. You’ll see the social worker, tell them you’ll clean the place up, go on your way. This is a blip.’

That last phrase something she has said to Lena many a time. A bad fight with a friend, rejection by a boy she’d been crushing on, the failure to get the marks for uni at the end of year twelve. This is a blip, Leen. In a coupla months you’ll look back and see it in perspective. Your life is going to be so big, and this—this is just the tiniest little blip.

Lena leaves after a while, telling her to get some sleep. Nic knows she’s been doing nothing but, yet she can’t imagine how, here, in this room with its cold green floor stretching stretching stretching out between the metal beds, six of them but each smaller than even a single bed should be, not nearly substantial enough to hold their own against that greedy floor, the ravenous space. Even with the various machines and stands and bits and pieces around each bed there is too much nothing, and nothing is loud. The corridor leading off in each direction for what sounded like a very, very long way makes it worse. Every word spoken or cried, shoe slapping tile, piss hitting toilet, needle piercing skin is happening right into her ear. The noises burrow deep, gnaw at her bones.