He closed the door behind him and came back, towards the bed.

I reached an arm out, craving something.

Fin gazed down at me for a moment that seemed long.

‘Melissa, I’m not sure this is a good idea.’ But he slipped his warm hand into my cold one. ‘It’s a nice one, sure enough, but—’

‘Well, I’m sure,’ I whispered. ‘Sure I’m sure.’ I mimicked his accent and he grinned again in the shadowed light, the room lit only by the glimmer of a distant moon, high above us – so high, somewhere in the Milky Way maybe – and a street light that flickered plaintively across the square.

Fin sat down on the edge of the bed. He watched me until I felt I wanted to squirm away from his gaze – as if he could see right inside my head. Then, slowly, he leant towards me and traced the outline of the dragon tattoo on my shoulder gently.

I held my breath.

He put a hand on my face and tipped it up towards him – very carefully. His hands still had paint on them; his fingernails were – almost – bitten to the quick.

I reached my arms up and round his neck. I exhaled slowly.

In relief?

He lent down; placed his warm mouth over my sore lip.

I was desperate, I realised later: I’d been desperate to feel the warmth and heat of another human; one whom I’d chosen to be with myself. Fin rolled me gently nearer the wall; he lay down and put his head on the pillow beside me. And then he kissed me properly, and it didn’t matter that my lip still hurt.

One who I was not frightened of.

One who would not force me; one who meant me no harm.

Ruby

Rocky and Zach had finished yelling at their PlayStation game when I got in, and then Rocky went home, the fiver tucked into his tracksuit pocket. ‘Don’t lose it, lovie,’ I said, and he grinned.

‘I never lose dollars. Thanks, Mrs March.’

About to shut the door, watching him amble down the walkway with that particular bounce on the toes teenage boys have made their own, I hesitated. ‘Rocky?’

‘Yeah?’ He turned, big face guileless in the gloom.

‘The – this thing about that lass Lola Vermaak—’

Immediately he frowned. ‘What about it?’

‘Is it—’ I sought the words. ‘What exactly happened?’

He scowled. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

‘I’m not saying you did but – I just wondered what did happen?’ I’d read the last blog post Jan Vermaak had written – though it had been taken down again. I imagine she’d been warned about defamation of character, despite her ‘subtlety’.

‘I just wanted my phone back.’ Rocky dropped his eyes now. ‘And she wouldn’t give it, so – I took it. I didn’t touch her… you know.’

‘Her what?’

‘Her boobs.’ He scuffed my doormat with his trainer toe. ‘I never would. I just wanted my phone back.’ Now he looked up again. ‘I was a bit rough maybe, but I swear, Mrs March, I wasn’t trying to do – that.’