Page 32 of The Mended Hearts Bookshop

For a second, Pen found herself lightening up, a warmth inside her belly. She’d been right about Ash, she wasn’t as cold as she seemed. She’d found it in her heart to help this girl, even if she had rather obviously been throwing her out of the bookshop. She wrapped the glow up inside herself. There was hope for Ash yet.

“It’s on the house,” she said about the coffee, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite the girl. “Have you got a name?”

“Lucy,” said Lucy.

“Pen, pleased to meet you.” Pen cleared her throat. She didn’t quite know how to put this, but she guessed that being up front was probably the way to go. “Um, are you… without somewhere to stay?” she tried.

“Homeless?” Lucy said, grinning at Pen. “Yeah, you can say the word. And yeah, I am just at the moment.” She sipped the coffee. “This is good.”

Pen looked more closely at her. She was a pretty girl, with dark hair and merry dark eyes. And now that she was looking beneath the grime, she suspected that Lucy was younger than she’d initially thought. “How old are you, Lucy?”

“Nineteen,” said Lucy immediately. “So no need to be calling child services or anything. I’ve had enough of that.” She rummaged around in a pocket. “I’ve got ID.”

“Not necessary,” Pen said. How could she help? It was clear that Lucy was struggling. How or why, Pen didn’t know. Maybe that needed to be the next step. “Fancy telling me how you ended up like this? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

Lucy closed one eye and surveyed Pen, then shrugged. “Give me one of those buns over there and I’ll tell you, how about that?”

“Sounds fair,” Pen laughed, getting up and fetching one. “Go on then, how’d you end up with nowhere to go? I’ve not seen you around here before.”

“Long story short, got taken off me mum when I was seven, grew up in care and foster homes.”

Pen was about to say something, but Lucy put up a hand.

“Nah, nothing bad. I know things happen, I’ve seen things and heard things, but I was lucky. I got to know some nice people, some good people, was always well looked after for what it’s worth. It’s more what came after that was the problem.”

“What did come after?” Pen asked as Lucy tore off a piece of bun and popped it in her mouth.

“Nothing,” Lucy said, mouth full. She chewed and swallowed. “Which is my point. I got some money, got a bit of help finding somewhere to stay, even got enrolled in some sixth form classes.But once I was eighteen, the system was done with me.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m not blaming anyone.”

“I would,” said Pen. “I’d blame the system for assuming that you know how to live an independent life.”

Lucy shrugged. “That’s just how it is. Anyway, I had to work more hours so I dropped out of sixth form, then I ended up losing my job then the room in the house I was living at. And here I am.” She took another bite of bun. “It’s not exactly easy to start over again, you know?”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Pen said. She looked at the girl. “Alright, let’s get you upstairs.”

A look flickered over Lucy’s face. “I’m not like that,” she said. “Nothing personal, but—”

Pen realized what she might have implied. “I mean let’s get you cleaned up is all. I’ll put your clothes in the washer, you can take a shower or a bath, you’ll feel better once you’re clean. Then we can talk about what we’re going to do.”

“We?” Lucy asked, the word muffled as she crammed the last of the bun into her mouth.

“If you want some help,” Pen said, aware that she might have over-stepped. “I, uh, I’d like to help, if you wouldn’t mind.” She saw another flicker on Lucy’s face. “Not charity though.”

“Right,” Lucy said.

Pen sighed. “You can work a few hours a day here, you can stay on my couch if you want. Then we can find out together what kind of official help is available. If you want to get back on your feet, that is?”

For a second, she thought Lucy might cry. But she just scowled instead. “What’s in this for you?”

Pen laid both hands flat on the table. “Nothing. Not a thing. You need help and I’m able to give it. That’s the top and bottom of it. I can’t force you to accept help, but it’s here if you want it.”

“But… but why?”

“Because I can,” Pen said honestly. “And because I want to. I like helping. This is a small town and we’re close-knit. We all help each other where we can, and I don’t see why that help shouldn’t extend to you. I hope that you’d help me if I was in need.”

“Dunno,” Lucy said, still staring at her like she was doubtful Pen really existed. “I might. Depends.”

“There, well, I don’t think anything should depend. There’s clearly a right thing to do in this situation and I want to do it. That’s all. I promise. You owe me nothing.”

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