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‘Ah, English. No, don’t sit up fast,’ a woman’s voice said, heavily accented with the local dialect, but speaking English well.
‘You’ll pass out again if you rush it, lass.’ Fear spiked in my chest as a Scottish lilt reached my ears. Had they had found me?
The early morning light made my eyes ache as I forced them open to look at the two people who were crouched next to me. Where was I?
Everything ached with bitter cold as I took in the cobbled street below me, my legs dirt covered and streaked with dried blood.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll call an ambulance. They’ll get you patched up in no time,’ the man said.
But my documents were gone. The previous night flooded back into my head, a tremble quaking my body at the memory. He could have molested me or killed me. I’d been lucky to get away mostly intact. Or I thought I was intact. It was hard to tell. My lips were thick and dry, one eye swollen almost shut. Were my ribs broken? It hurt when I inhaled too deeply. I probably needed an ambulance, but they’d want proof of who I was, and I no longer had that.
‘No. No hospital, please.’
The strangers shared a look. ‘Will you let us help clean you up? We own the taverna and there is food and water there. You’ll need it to get better.’
I didn’t want to owe anyone anything, but what choice did I have? I had no money, no ID, no work visa. Nothing. I nodded and winced as they helped me to my feet. Pain shot through my knee as I bore my weight on it and I whimpered with each step out of the alleyway and toward the taverna.
‘We found a bag too, emptied on the road.’
A kernel of hope.
‘It was mostly just clothes. I think whoever attacked you must have taken your money.’
Hope dashed. ‘And my documents.’
We entered the sweet taverna, the smell of fresh herbs wrapping me in cosiness. They were everywhere, bringing an indoor garden vibe to the place. I loved it.
‘Jock, can give you a ride to the embassy to fix your documents once you are feeling better.’ The woman spoke softly as she sat me in a seat and retrieved a bowl of warm water and a cloth. I hissed between my teeth as she dabbed at my bruised face.
‘I don’t want to go to the embassy.’
‘They will get you new documents.’ Jock fixed a plate of crumbly, sugar-coated biscuits and a cup of tea and brought them over to me. A rumbling stole over my stomach at the sight of them.
‘They won’t be able to replace the kind I had,’ I said it in a whisper. It was opening myself up to potentially being turned in, but I had no choice.
‘Eva, a word?’ Jock said. The sugary biscuit melted in my mouth as I took a bite, damn it was delicious. I’d eaten three by the time they came back across the room despite the crumbs making my tattered lips ache, and Eva took back up the cloth and continued washing my many cuts and bruises.
‘We have a spare room. You can stay until your injuries heal.’ The older woman smiled up at me as she spoke.
‘I don’t have any money.’
‘That’s okay. Most of our patrons are local, so we have the space going unused.’ She patted my hand as tears pricked at the inner corners of my eyes.
‘Thank you,’ I whispered, their generosity more than I could have asked for.
‘Are you running from an ex-boyfriend?’ Jock asked, pouring a bowl of rich spiced soup out and placing it beside me with a spoon.
Hesitation gripped me as I looked at him. Would he know anyone back home? Would he try to turn me over?
‘Don’t worry, lass, I ran from Scotland myself thirty years ago. You’re not the first waif and stray that Eva has taken in.’
‘I ran from an arranged marriage with a terrible man. I can’t go back.’ I laid out my cards, so to speak, hoping pity might keep me safe.
‘Aye, well, you can stay here until you figure out what to do next. We can always use an extra set of hands. The pays crap but we can give you room and board.’
The tears came in a great waterfall this time, as Eva gently washed them away.
‘Come on, eat up your soup and then I’ll show you your room and find you something to wear while I wash your other things. They got dirty laying out on the street all night. Jock, can you sort her a basin of hot water and a washcloth so she can clean herself before bed?’
