Anna finishes her lunch. She’s completely exhausted now, wiped out by it all, a blood-sugar crash from the food dragging her even further down. If she only could, she’d curl up in a corner and sleep for a week. The volunteer has wandered off, but when Anna stands up to clear her plates away, she returns.
‘So, what’s your plan? Do you have somewhere to go tonight?’
Anna shrugs. ‘I guess there is somewhere I could go. I’ll have to do some grovelling, though.’
‘Would that be so bad?’
‘I guess not.’
‘It won’t be for long,’ the woman says. ‘You’ll get some money in soon enough, then you can sort out your own place.’
‘I’m meant to be starting a job on Monday, actually,’ Anna says, half surprised at herself for volunteering this.
‘That’s great.’ The woman smiles broadly. ‘Good luck!’ She turns to walk away, then pauses and steps back. ‘Look, I know you said you find it hard to ask people for help, but you do need to let people help you. I know it’s hard, but it’s safe to open up, just a little.’
Anna waits.
‘So, I want to ask you something,’ the woman continues.
Here it comes. Anna knew it was too good to be true, that anyone could be so easy to talk to, so lacking in the sort of prurient curiosity she’s been primed to expect. The woman opens her mouth to speak and Anna is bracing herself, waiting for it.
Why did you get sent to prison?
Fuck off, she wants to shout,mind your own fucking business, and she’s ready to say it, the words at the tip of her tongue, but then she hears what the woman is saying.
‘What are you going to wear?’
Not what Anna was expecting. ‘Wear to what?’
‘Work. You said you’re starting a job. Do you have the right sort of things to wear?’
‘I hadn’t really thought about it. I’ve got a skirt, a blouse. That’s about it,’ Anna says. ‘I mean, he knows where I’ve come from. I doubt he’s expecting . . .’
‘Look, that’s as may be. But I think you need to make a bit of an effort.’ She looks Anna up and down. ‘We’re about the same size. Why don’t you come round to my house, and I’ll dig out some stuff for you. I left my office job a while ago, so I don’t need the smarter clothes anymore.’
Before Anna can reply, she takes a pen and piece of paper from her pocket and writes something down, then hands it to her.
‘This is my address,’ she says ‘Come round. Maybe Tuesday? If that works?’
‘It works,’ Anna says, knowing the reply is redundant. What else would she be doing?
‘Great,’ the woman says. ‘I’ll see you then.’ With that, she walks smartly away, leaving Anna somewhat shellshocked. She didn’t even have a chance to introduce herself, it’s all happened so fast. Tucking the piece of paper into her pocket, she piles her used plates on the trolley at the side. When she’s finished, she stands at the edge of the room for a moment, looking around her.
It’s all so familiar, the smells of roast meat and cabbage, the clank of cutlery against china, the low murmur of conversation. Not so dissimilar to being back at school, really – and perhaps that’s why she doesn’t mind being told what to do. This volunteer is like the only teacher she got on with, the librarian who was kind enough to give her space to be herself, let her sit in the library whenever she wanted, pick whatever books she chose.
Anna feels warmed by it. Emboldened, too. Pulling her shoulders up straight, she walks over to a group of three women sitting at the end of a table, mugs of tea steaming in front of them. One is telling a story and the others are laughing, too involved to look up at her. She stands for a moment, uncertain, the confidence seeping out of her, before pulling herself together. She’s got a job to do. As soon as the anecdote has finished, she puts her hand on an empty chair at the edge of the group.
‘OK if I join you? I need help with something.’
They glance from one to the other. The storyteller is clearly the final arbiter as, after a couple of moments, she nods towards the empty chair. ‘What?’
‘I’m looking for information about someone. A woman called Kelly Green. I know that she spent time in Oxford, and that she stayed here. Do any of you know of her?’
Glances pass between them again, then shrugs. The woman next to the storyteller looks thoughtful.
‘It’s not a big community. We all know each other, pretty much. The name does ring a bell,’ she says. ‘Though I’m not sure. Why do you want to know?’
Anna pauses. ‘I met her in prison.’
