‘I’m going,’ Mark manages. Then he edges his way towards the door, keeping as much distance from Rudy as possible in the small, overpopulated room. With his eyes focused on the dealer, he doesn’t notice the small table jutting out beyond the arm of the sofa. His knee connects with its corner. Another jolt of pain travels through Mark’s thigh bone as the table topples over. A plastic bag falls with it, revealing its contents. At least fifty brightly coloured foiled packets. Instantly Mark knows what they are; he’s been living on the streets long enough to recognise packets of spice. Mark looks at the dealer and their eyes connect for a second.

Fuck it.

He grabs the bag and runs.

He slams the living room door closed. He hears it open again a moment later, but he’s already out of the flat, pelting down the walkway, swinging off the banister and flying down the stairs.

‘You’ll pay for this, you thieving prick!’ Rudy’s deep scream catapults after him. ‘You think I won’t find you?’

Mark shakes the threat away, then smacks his palms against the main doorway. Out on the street, laughter starts to bubble out of him. God, he’s fucking insane, but it’s good to feel in control at last; it’s been too long. It’s busy on the main road, and he uses the cover of a double-decker bus to slip down one of the side streets. When he’s sure he’s not being followed, he stops, sucks in air. His body is still screaming with pain, but his heart rate begins to settle. He opens the plastic bag.

He’s never tried spice, but he’s heard about it. So many rough sleepers use it just to pass the time. Apparently it’s like weed, but better at taking the edge off when life gets too shitty. He looks at the metallic packets, thinks about Rudy’s parting words and wonders if they were worth risking another beating for.

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Beth

‘Coffee?’ Beth asks, hoping that the lure of caffeine will be enough to persuade Saskia to say yes, even if they didn’t part on the best terms last Friday. Drinking coffee with friends is Saskia’s second favourite pastime, and it’s too early for cocktails.

‘Well.’ Saskia pauses, and Beth wonders if she’ll need to do more, apologise for getting mad about the MyNeighbour post even. But then Saskia’s shoulders drop a centimetre. ‘Okay, just a quick one. But can we go to Sierra Rose? I’ve heard they’ve got some new Sumatran beans in.’