of yellow and lilac paint, though Tanya had no recollection of any decorating ever having been done, and there was certainly no evidence of it anywhere in the flat. Looking back, Tanya decided that if yellow and lilac were the chosen colours, it was a good job they hadn’t been used. In every corner of the bathroom, gathered behind the pipes and along the side of the bath, were piles of short black curly hair, matted with a curious grey fluff that seemed only to gather in this one room. The wall next to the loo was streaked with long brown tears, sticky droplets of old urine where a drunken cock had misfired. A medicine cupboard that had long ago lost its door hung above the sink, crammed with objects that made her tummy flip, adult things, forbidden things. Tampons, condoms, gels and potions, items that when she glimpsed them made her feel vulnerable and inexplicably queasy. The taps of the sink were relics of the 1970s and dripped constantly, adding to the brown pool that stained the bowl.
Tanya decided that she would like taking a bath in her beautiful new bathroom with its shiny taps and she looked forward to feeling the soft fabric of the dressing gown against her skin and the woolly rug beneath her feet. In prison, everything had been thin: the hard carpet tiles, the watery food, the bars of soap, the worn sheets, the napless towels and communal clothes. All thin, barely grippable between her fingers; frail and insubstantial. She had been cold when clothed, and wet long after her bath as the towels didn’t dry her skin. The bed sheets had been so shabby that she would feel the stitching of the mattress against her cold, goose-prickled skin as she tried to sleep.
Here it was different; things were luxurious and voluminous, downy, soft and inviting. She had never slept in an environment like this, had never even been in a room like this. A bubble of excitement snuffed out the wariness and nerves that had dogged her since she had stepped from the train. Was she really going to sleep in here? Was this really her room to live and spend time in as she pleased?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Fear leapt in her throat. She didn’t move and said nothing.
‘Tanya, can I come in?’
‘Yeah,’ she managed, after a pause.
Kate entered slowly, balancing a tray with sandwiches, a large slice of Victoria sponge and a pot of tea with just the one cup. She knew that Tanya would need to acclimatise alone.
‘Here we go. Room service!’ Kate joked. Looking up, she was dismayed by Tanya’s tears that fell thick and fast.
‘Oh, lovey, please don’t cry. Here, let me get you a tissue.’
Kate deposited the tray on the table by the fire and walked over to the bedside table, where a box of scented tissues had been placed.
‘I’m sure that it’s all a bit strange, but I promise that you will get used to it here and you’ll love it! We are so glad to have you here, Tanya, really I—’
‘It’s not that.’ Tanya interrupted her.
‘Oh.’ Kate was trying to think of what might be ailing her. Missing someone? Feeling lonely? Something else? She didn’t have to guess much longer.
‘No one has ever knocked on a door and asked if they could come in, never, ever, anywhere. Not in my whole life. It’s been as if I was invisible, as if I didn’t count.’
Her tears once again fell unchecked. Kate put her arm round the girl’s shoulders. She knew what it felt like to be invisible.
‘Well, Tanya, that is house rule number one: to treat everyone with respect and to give them privacy when they want it. Your room is your sanctuary, your own private space.’
‘My own private space.’
Tanya repeated the words out loud, trying to comprehend what they meant and thinking that if she said them aloud, it might just make them true.
* * *
The study door was closed, a sign to all not to disturb the occupants.
Stacey pushed stray strands of hair behind her ears; her ponytail was pulled back tightly to reveal her forehead, which was peppered with tiny spots. Her fingers gently touched the four gold hoops of differing sizes that hung from each earlobe, before yanking her jersey sleeves over her hands. She pulled her knees up under her chin and curled her frame more snugly into the wing-back chair facing the desk.
Kate was