Klempner

“Here…” Juliana places something in the ground… a flat something… “I'm not giving you a cushion, but you can have that.”

On the end of her shoe, she toes it toward me and across the white line. A fragment of paint breaks from the edge of the line.

Stiff-jointed, I stand. It’s not easy. Every movement scrapes flesh and bone against the concrete and I resist the urge to simply roll forward and crawl towards whatever-it-is.

So, I stand: unravelling myself: piece by piece, joint-by-joint, unfolding my body until I’m upright. Then I take the three or four steps to what has become the edge of my world.

Stooping with exaggerated care for my stiff spine, I examine her flat-packed offering. “A cardboard box?”

“It'll get your ass off the concrete.”

“In this damp, It won't last long.”

She shrugs. “Then, I might give you another. If you behave yourself.”

“You mean if I grovel and entertain you.”

She gives me a hyena grin. “That’s the spirit.”

*****

“Can I ask you something?”

Her eyes narrow. “You can ask.”

“How did you come to be in my hands in the first place? Most of the kids were shipped in from the third world or Eastern Europe. How did you come to be in Blessingmoors?”

Her jaw drops. “You don't know?”

didn't make personal

“You really don't know why

reason I should?” Shock recoils over her face. “Juliana, I may have fucked up your life, but if you imagine it was from some personal vendetta, you're dreaming. Did one

“My

me

And when he was, he

“We?”

eyes slit further. “Are you really interested in this? Or is this your idea

like to

looks away.

Tell me. I’ll

screws up,

I’ll show you mine if you show

my mother said we were going out, just her and me… That she was taking me for a special treat. She made me wear my best dress. My older sister's actually. And she took me to meet a man. He gave her money…” She gulps, looking away… “She said I was to go with him. She said he'd take me to my new home. It would be a kind

Christ…

My belly tightens…

the bridge of my nose. “For what it is worth to you, Juliana, I do understand how that makes you feel. For

turns liquid eyes to me.

She was murdered when I was small. But, at the time,

dull. “Who killed

“My father.”

eyes widen. “And what happened

end,

laugh is

What goes around comes

in her chair’ eyes me. “And

say. Here we

Time to move on…

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