Chapter Fourteen

Pen put a hot cup of coffee down in front of the woman.

"I can pay," the woman said, pulling out a ten pound note. "Um, the lady next door gave me this." She sounded a little defensive, as if Pen had accused her of stealing the money.

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."

Lucy pressed her finger to her plate, picking up the rest of the crumbs and slipping them into her mouth. "Alright," she said after a minute or so. "A bath sounds nice."

"SO, YOU'RE JUST going to let a stranger live in your flat?" George hissed.

"She's not a stranger, her name's Lucy," said Pen. "And keep your voice down, she'll be down any minute. She's quite lovely, you'll like her."

"Most con artists are good at making people like them, it's sort of a qualification for the job," said George. He frowned in disapproval. "Pen, you can't do this. You can't just… help people like this."

"Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?" asked Pen. "Of course I can help people. The world would be a better place if we all helped people. Lucy's a good person, a nice person, who's had some bad luck. It could happen to any of us."

"I don't understand how you can be like this," George said, but he was getting used to the idea, or becoming resigned to it, one or the other.

"I'd be a hypocrite if I weren't like this," Pen said, pushing over a mug of hot chocolate. "Don't be cross with me, I hate it when you are."

"I'm frustrated, not cross. Well, maybe a bit cross. I worry about you. And how would you be a hypocrite?"

"You're the one always telling me that I always think everything will be alright, that I'm the eternal optimist. Well, I'd be a hypocrite if I thought that and then wasn't part of the solution to actually make things alright, to make things better for other people, wouldn't I?" Pen said reasonably.

George shook his head. "You're one of a kind, Pen. I'm not at all sure that the world deserves you in any way."

Pen's phone buzzed and she picked it up, checking the notification and then punching the air in glee.

"What?" asked George, a mustache of chocolate on his top lip.

"This," said Pen, handing him her phone and a napkin.

He scanned the email on the screen and grinned. "You know, sometimes things really do turn out alright, don't they?"

"Do they?" asked Lucy. She was clean and shining, dressed in an old shirt of Pen's and jogging pants that were far too big. "I'm Lucy, by the way."

"George," said George, not quite as warmly as Pen might have liked.

"So what's turning out alright?" asked Lucy, coming behind the counter and regarding the coffee machine.

"Well, we want to buy the bookshop next door," Pen explained. "I mean, the community does, as a project, and we've just heard that the council is getting a special grant for development and councilwoman Thurst, who you haven't met but she's lovely—"

George cleared his throat. "She's a harridan," he put in.

"She's lovely," Pen repeated, glaring at him. "Has just told me that the council will be accepting presentations for ideas on how best to use the grant money."

"Which you want to use to buy the bookshop from that woman next door," Lucy said uncertainly.

"Her name's Ash and she's also lovely," said Pen.

Lucy didn't look convinced. "What if the council says no?"

Pen shrugged and grinned. "Then we'll have to come up with another plan, won't we? Something will turn up."

"This looks complicated," Lucy said, still looking at the coffee machine.

"It's not at all. I'll teach you how to use it," said Pen.

"How to use it?" George asked. "Um, why would you do that?"

"Because I work here now," said Lucy.

George opened his mouth to object, but Pen jumped in just in time. "And given that today's your afternoon off, you can be our test subject, right, George?"

"I came to pick you up to go to the pub," grumbled George. "And why can't you be the test subject for her terrible coffee?"

"It might not be terrible," Lucy said. "It might be great."

"And now it looks like Pen's optimism is contagious," George muttered.

"You can help out because helping is a good thing," said Pen. Then she grinned, her heart fluttering a little. "Besides, I'm going to have to go and talk to Ash about planning this council presentation, aren't I?"

George rolled his eyes and Lucy looked clueless, but Pen was so happy to have an excuse to really talk to Ash that she didn't care.