“I’m being a friend. That’s what friends do. You’re the most gentle, sensitive, kind woman I’ve ever met.”

“I’ve never had a friend like that before. In fact I haven’t really had a friend.”

Mack squeezed her hand again. “Well, I’d like to be that person for you, but I…”

“What?”

“You don’t know who I am, what I need to be sometimes. Not really, and I’m worried…” Mack faltered. How could she explain to the most shy, nervous woman she’d ever met about her life and that she’d been to prison?

“What are you worried about?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mack said. She never had worried about what other people would think of her before. Mack wasn’t ashamed of who she was and the part she played in the Sharkey family.

Her mind went to the razor in her pocket, how she had gotten the name Mack the Knife. She’d never hurt anyone who hadn’t come looking for trouble, only those that took liberties. But would Flora see it like that? She was being a coward.

“No, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Honestly, it’s nothing.” Changing the subject, Mack said, “What a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“It is. A clear winter’s day. It’ll be Christmas in no time.”

They looked at the water and listened to the sounds of the ducks and swans splashing about. Flora had never felt so comfortable with someone outside her family before, and in fact even her grandad hadn’t known everything about her conditions.

For some reason she wanted Mack to know, in the hopes that she could explain that she wasn’t as strange as she might appear, tapping all the time. But could she muster the courage?

“Mack, I—” The stress of saying out loud what was wrong with her made her compulsions all the more urgent. She rubbed the tip of her nose discreetly and tapped, but every time she performed the routine, her mind said she got it wrong, and she had to start again.

Mack must have sensed her anxiety because she touched her hand gently. “What is it?”

Flora had a lump in throat stopping her from speaking. “It doesn’t matter.”

She supposed they both had things they struggled to talk about. Flora felt the warmth of Mack’s hand on hers and looked down at them touching. This was as close as she had been to anyone, without flinching or feeling desperate to run away.

Mack must have noticed her staring and said, “Sorry, is this okay?”

Was it? Yes, she thought, it was. Everything about this was nice. Mack was so gentle with her. She smiled and nodded.

“Listen, there’s an ice cream van over there. I know it’s cold, but do you fancy one?” Mack said.

“Only if Dexter can have one too.”