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Nicolas lapsed into silence. He seemed to be struggling with what to say next, desperate to fill the conversational gap.

Eva spoke for him. “She looks familiar, doesn’t she? Katie, I mean. I’m sure I’ve seen her somewhere before.”

Nicolas gulped once, twice.

“Well, erm, well.” He gulped again and changed the subject. “What about you, Eva? We all saw you the night that you were brought in. I’ve never seen anybody with so many drug feeds attached. What had you done?”

“Tried to commit suicide. I almost succeeded, too.” Eva heard the pride in her own voice.

“Suicide? That’s impressive. Social Care usually picks up the signs well in advance. Why did you do it?”

“I’d rather not talk about that.”

“Fair enough,” Nicolas said. “Still, suicide. How did you arrange it?”

“Loaded my teddy bear with Panacetamol over the course of several months and then took them all at once. I thought nobody would think it odd that I’d fallen asleep on a train. Obviously someone did.”

Nicolas frowned. “Panacetamol? I didn’t think they could reverse that. I thought that once you’d taken enough that was it. All they could do was sit back and watch you die.”

Eva shrugged. “It would appear not.”

Nicolas placed one hand on her shoulder in what was probably meant to be a supportive gesture.

“Never mind that now. Look, we all stick together in this place. If you ever feel bad, come and see us. We’ll try to help.”

Eva managed not to shudder at the feel of Nicolas’ hand on her shoulder. He doesn’t mean anything, she thought, he’s just socially inept. She struggled to hold on to that thought as his gaze wandered down to her breasts again.

In the corner, the blind card players came to the end of a game. One of them twitched and gazed sightlessly around the room as the other fumblingly shuffled the deck.

Eva had slept with her curtains open since she had come to the Center. It was nice to look out into darkness and not the orange glow that filled the night back in South Street. As she lay down, she heard the voice.

“Katie does look familiar, doesn’t she? I’m sure we’ve seen her before.”

“Who are you?” Eva whispered into the darkness. “Why do you keep talking to me?”

But there was no reply.

Someone was shaking her shoulder. Someone was screaming, and as she struggled to consciousness, Eva had a horrible feeling it might be herself. She rolled over in the bed to see Katie staring down at her, an anxious expression engraved on her thin face. Her tiny piggy eyes slid this way and that to avoid Eva’s gaze.

“Come and help. Alison’s in a bad way. Please come and speak to her.”

The words came out in a rush. The screaming was still going on, and Eva realized that it came from somewhere down the corridor. She struggled to a sitting position.

Katie had taken her hand from Eva’s shoulder and had gone to stand in the middle of the bedroom, wrapping her fingers around each other and staring at the floor. Eva brushed the hair from her face and yawned. The sky outside her rain-streaked window was a uniform dull grey; the cheerless orange walls of her room did nothing to lift her spirits. The screaming from down the corridor outside stopped for a moment, then a stream of barely coherent swearing began. Eva recognized Alison’s voice.

“What’s happened?” Eva pulled her trousers from the back of the chair. The belt caught the paperback lying facedown on her low bedside table, flipping it to the floor.

Katie gazed around the room, still looking everywhere rather than at Eva.

“Alison shouldn’t be let out when she’s on a high. She gets drunk and then lets all the men in the pub sleep with her. She hates herself the next day.”

“What?” Eva said, struggling into her trousers. “Then why did Nurse Dyer let her get away last night?”

“Nurse Dyer can’t stop her. Besides, Nurse Dyer doesn’t like Alison.”

“What? But that’s…unprofessional!” The words sounded childish even to her own ears.

Eva staggered across the room, finally getting her trousers up to her waist. She turned her back on Katie and pulled off her nightgown. Her breasts felt heavy and sore this morning, and she held one arm over them as she looked for her sweatshirt. Katie blushed and gazed at the ceiling.

“Nurse Dyer is jealous of Alison. Alison is clever and pretty. Please come and speak to her.”

“What can I say? I barely know her.”

“I don’t know. You’ll think of something. You’re clever, too.”

“Me?” Eva gave a bitter laugh. “I couldn’t even get promotion in a fast-food shop.”

Katie said nothing. She waited nervously as Eva found her shoes, grabbed her book to shove into her back pocket for safety, then followed her into the corridor. They found Nicolas standing in front of Alison, holding his hand as if it had just been bitten, an expression of utter horror on his face.

“Get away from me, you bastard!” shouted Alison. “You bastard. Bastard! BASTARD!”

She jumped forward and began to beat at him with her fists. Nicolas backed away uncertainly. Katie took him by the arm and pulled him away from Alison, sliding her body into the space between them.

“She doesn’t mean it, Nicolas,” Katie said, her words emerging in staccato bursts. “She’s just taking it out on you. Go away and she’ll be fine by this evening.” Katie stared at the floor. Nicolas merely nodded. He turned and walked away, looking hurt.

Katie looked directly at Eva for the first time, her tiny blue eyes gazing straight into hers, a fraction of a second and no more, then they flicked toward Alison, reminding Eva of her instructions. She took a deep breath.

“Alison,” she said softly.

Alison turned toward her, face twisted with rage. As she looked at Eva, some of the rage drained from her eyes. She stifled a sob.

“Oh, Eva,” she said. “The bastards. The bastards.” She put her arms around Eva’s neck and dissolved into tears. Eva gazed up at the ceiling, wondering what to do next.

Eva and Katie sat with Alison as the sobbing turned to crying, the crying turned to stray tears, and finally, just red-eyed despondency.

“I used to be a university lecturer,” she said. “History. Look at me now. All because I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched, that everyone was talking about me behind my back.”

“That’s how I felt,” said Eva. “The difference was I never made anything of my life. Too stupid, I guess.”

Her voice tailed away. Some sixth sense made her aware of Katie’s gaze on the back of her neck. As she spun around to look, Katie quickly glanced away.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Alison said colorlessly. “Katie thinks you have a lot of potential, and Katie is never wrong.” The expressionless tone made her sound as if she was totally uninterested in what she was saying.

Eva did not think a reply was appropriate. Once again, silence descended upon the room. She was about to open her book when Alison continued.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been in here, is it?”

“No. I was brought in when they killed my brother.”

“They killed your brother?” Alison said in astonishment. “Who did? What happened?”

She sat up straight on her untidy bed, her eyes wide with amazement. Eva felt a surge of embarrassment. She blushed, unsure what to say next. “Um, I don’t know.”

Katie came to her rescue.

“It’s not what it sounds like,” said Katie in a rush of words. “Can’t you tell, Alison? She was addicted to MTPH.”

“Oh,” Alison said. “An emptyhead? Now I understand.”

They weren’t allowed to wean someone off MTPH anymore. Addiction was held to be a matter of personal choice, and there was a growing argument that the second personality had some rights too…Eva had been one of the last people to be forcibly broken of the addiction; even now she struggled to forget the last few days of her “brother’s” life.