Throat girl chuckles. “She’s the goddess of rainbows, not rain. Zeus is responsible for rain.”

“I’m not calling her Zeus.”

Thank God for small mercies.

“My name’s Beth,” I say with a small voice. They all stop talking and look at me. Suddenly I understand how a zoo animal must feel.

“I prefer Iris,” Digby says.

“Well, it’s better than Zeus,” throat girl says.

Niall just leans across to me and places his soft lips on the sensitive skin just below my ear. “You’ll always be Rain Girl to me.”

3

I meet Daisy at a cafe on a damp Tuesday morning. She’s sitting outside at a stainless-steel bistro table under the awning. A half-smoked cigarette is clutched between her fingers. She raises it up to her dry, cracked lips, sucking at the filter, her cheeks hollowing as she inhales. When she breathes out, the smoke combines with the vapour dancing in the air.

“Would you like a coffee?” I stop next to her. She looks up, almost surprised.

“Can I have a Coke instead? I’ve got a hangover.”

When I come back out, she’s finished her cigarette. She has her phone in her hand and is leaning over it. Her lank hair hangs over her eyes. I put her Coke and my over-full coffee cup down on the table. It rocks a little, and coffee sloshes over the rim, spilling onto the metal surface, running toward the edge.

“How are you?” I sit down and take a sip of coffee. It’s so hot it scalds my lips.

“Okay.”

“And Allegra?”

Daisy tears her eyes away from her phone; her whites look yellow and there are dark shadows beneath them. It looks as though she hasn’t slept in weeks. “She’s okay.”

I ignore the defensiveness of her tone. She’s known me long enough to understand I’m not judging her. I’m not her counsellor, either; I’m just here as a friend.

“She seemed better yesterday when I saw her,” I remark.

She shrugs and opens her can of Coke. It hisses as she pulls the ring, fizz escaping from the small opening. “She’s barely talking to me.”

“She’s been through a lot.”

“So have I.”

I don’t know how to talk to Daisy when she’s like this; defensive, abrupt, angry at the world. She’s feeling sorry for herself, and when she’s in this mood there’s no getting through to her. Worry for Allegra gnaws at my stomach. I swallow another mouthful of coffee. It’s milky and sweet—exactly how I like it. Even after all these years I try to keep my stimulants mild. The strongest drug I take nowadays is caffeine.

“Darren’s back.”

My face falls. Darren is her on-again-off-again boyfriend, and more importantly he’s a dealer. He’s very bad news.

“Have you told Lara?” I know the clinic has to maintain patient confidentiality where possible, but we also have an obligation to make sure Allegra is safe. We’re going to have to get social services involved again. That’s certain to alienate Daisy and throw her right into Darren’s arms. It’s a catch-22 situation and I hate it, but there’s no other way.

“Nope.” She takes another swig of Coke. Her teeth are yellow from the drugs and lack of hygiene. Without thinking, I run my tongue along my own incisors. “And I’m not going to,” she adds.

“You know I’m going to have to tell somebody.”

Anger flashes behind her eyes. “The fuck you will. You’re meant to be my friend.”

“I am your friend. You know how I feel about Darren. You know how Allegra feels, too. Last time he came around she ended up alone in the house for two days before anybody found her.” I can’t believe we’re doing this again. Darren’s a parasite. It’s as though he has a sixth sense. Every time Daisy starts to improve, he comes around and lures her back again. He feeds her drugs like they’re sweets, and she lets him.

Daisy rolls her eyes. “He’s different this time. He’s promised me he’s giving it up. The dealing and everything. Wants us to give it another go.”

Tags: Carrie Elks Love in London Romance
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