Chapter 4
Denny
She was not just a wild creature,
she was a wounded creature.
― Iris Murdoch, The Message to the Planet
When Grandma had told her that gentle hearts attracted trouble like blood attracted sharks, Denny had dismissed it as an exaggeration. Being dramatic was a family trait, after all.
Sure, all five of her serious girlfriends had ended up breaking her heart and, yes, she had deliberately ignored all the warning signs.
At this point it was evident that she was the problem.
She kept doing this to herself, over and over, knowing it wouldn’t end well, and yet she persisted, because she still believed that people, even the most problematic, deserved a chance.
Oddly enough, Eris wasn’t even close to being the most problematic woman Denny had taken home.
When she showed up at Aunt Aunika’s door, the look she received as soon as Auni saw Eris made her cower like a child caught with her hands in the cookie jar—which was unfair, because for once she wasn’t dating the girl who screamed ‘trouble’.
Auni, with her trademark pragmatism, stepped aside to invite them in, not without reserving a scolding scowl for her niece.
“It’s not what it looks like!” Denny mouthed, walking in after Eris.
Auni preferred not to comment on that. The sacred Nigerian hospitality kicked in right away: in a matter of minutes they were sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea and plate of biscuits.
Aunika lived in Oxford and Denny didn’t get to visit as often as she would’ve wanted to, but, when she did, she could trust she would be welcomed with open arms. And maybe a dirty look from time to time.
After a quick debriefing, Auni lost most of her guardedness. She scrutinised Eris and her wounds with a new sympathy.
“What’s your name, precious?” Auni brushed Eris’ forearm, but Eris jerked back, spilling some tea. Auni took no offence, becoming pensive instead.
“Eris,” Denny supplied. “She doesn’t speak.
” She shared a look with Eris, whose leg was bouncing restlessly under the table.
Denny did that, too, when she was anxious.
She wished she could convince Eris there was nothing to be anxious about.
Auni’s flat wasn’t exactly cosy: modern and minimalistic, it looked more like an office than a home, but that was just a reflection of Aunika’s all-business character.
“Could be a trauma response,” Auni mused. Her black eyes flitted all over Eris’ bruised face, oozing concern. “Who did this to you, love?”
“Drunk guy in the street.”
Auni kept her attention on Eris, even if Denny was answering for her. “You’re lucky Denny was there. She’s a mean fighter, you know?”
Denny blushed at the impressed look she received. Clearly Eris didn’t peg her for a tough girl. Understandable. Denny didn’t look strong. She looked pretty and delicate. No one suspected how muscular she was under her frilly clothes.
“Eris, would you mind taking off your clothes so that I can examine you? I’ll be careful, I promise. Denny, you should wait outside.”
Denny stood up, but Eris grabbed her wrist. Denny pursed her lips at Auni from over her head. Auni sighed, but didn’t argue.
She prodded every bruise and every scrape until Eris flinched, palpating the ribs one by one, apologising when a couple of them elicited a sharp hiss.
She checked the pupil response, asking questions that Eris could answer with a movement of her head.
After making sure the balance was alright, Auni told Eris she could get dressed.
“We can exclude a concussion. Nothing broken. Just an awful lot of ugly bruises and I assume two cracked ribs, but it’d take an x-ray to know for sure.”
“I don’t think she wants that.”
“You’re going to need a painkiller prescription if you want to be able to sleep.”
Eris hissed out a sardonic laugh that immediately turned into a grimace of pain.
“We’ll figure this out,” Denny intervened, injecting every ounce of optimism she possessed in her words.
Auni sighed. “Fractured ribs heal on their own, all you need is rest. Avoid lifting heavy weights and any high-intensity activity, and in a few weeks you’ll be as good as new.”
Eris’ eyes went wide.
“How many weeks are we talking?” asked Denny. Maybe Eris didn’t have a stable job, or worked off the books, and this injury might cost her her livelihood.
“Four to six, at least.”
“And what kind of therapy does it require?”
“Icing, minimum two times a day. I can prescribe you a mild painkiller. And that sports bra needs to go.” Auni pointed a stern finger at Eris’ chest. “Wear something less constricting. They’re not that big.”
Eris spit out a scoff through her teeth.
“Yeah, Auntie’s a bit too frank sometimes,” Denny commented, ignoring the warmth rising from her neck. She might not be one who got the hots for just about anybody, but she had eyes, albeit slightly impaired, and could see how well-shaped Eris was in every part of her body.
Before her pathological lack of short-term memory stabbed her in the back as usual, she noted down Auni’s recommendations in her notes app.
“You should report that man to the police.”
Denny knew that wasn’t an option. From where she was sitting, any man who hit a woman deserved to be in jail, but if Eris wanted to keep a low profile for whatever reason, so be it.
“We don’t even know who he was.”
Auni wasn’t pleased, but she didn’t insist. “You shouldn’t be alone for too long for a few days, just to be safe. Do you live by yourself?”
Denny could read the ‘It’s none of your fucking business!’ spelled out across Eris’ face so clearly that she was afraid Auni would see it, too.
“You have a place to go to, right? Someone who’ll look after you?” she meddled, partly as a diversion, but mostly because she’d caught a shard of dismay in Eris’ reaction.
Could she be homeless? It’d explain so much.
Homeless women were often victims of violence.
The streets of London were getting more and more dangerous every day, especially for a young woman.
Denny couldn’t bear the idea of Eris all alone out there, forced to deal with the aftermath of such a vicious assault on her own.
Eris just stared up at her, lips slightly parted, those insanely bright eyes piercing right through Denny’s soul. She had never seen irises like those, so light they were almost transparent. Blue or grey? Impossible to tell.
“Alright. We’ll figure it out.” She nearly put a hand on Eris’ shoulder, but remembered her aversion for touch and went for a reassuring smile instead. “I guess you’re stuck with me in the meantime.”
Judging by her face, Eris was less than thrilled, but that didn’t discourage Denny and her determination to help her.
Auni must’ve picked up on her intentions, because she discreetly gestured for her to join her in the living room.
Once they were out of earshot, Denny grumbled: “I smell a lecture coming.”
Auni had always been a hybrid between a second mother and best friend to her, someone she could open up with about anything and who always had her back, no matter what. The downside was dealing with her brutally honest opinions.
“Sweetie…” Auni placed her hands on Denny’s shoulders. “You’re not the Salvation Army. You can’t keep making everyone’s problems your own.”
Of the many things Denny couldn’t stand, condescension was the worst. She was the baby of the family, the one who’d been spoiled and pampered by everyone, the one who had never fully matured and was still seen as too breezy and scatterbrained for her age.
No one had ever made her feel bad for it, but she still felt the weight of her parents’ apprehension.
And now Aunt Auni was straight up telling her she wasn’t fit for looking after someone else.
“Do you expect me to kick her out knowing she has nowhere to go?”
“That dreamy little head of yours…” A deep crease formed between Auni’s eyebrows. There went the condescendence again. “Have you learned nothing from Blake?”
The blow was cruel and it hit hard, but Denny withstood it unflinchingly.
“Eris is different.”
“I know you romanticise everything, but that girl doesn’t look… reliable.”
Denny’s mind went to the knuckle knife in her jewellery box. It looked deadly, but no woman could be blamed for carrying a weapon these days. Better unjustly convicted of murder than raped or beaten to death. And Eris had relinquished it when Denny had begged her to. That deserved some trust.
“Just because she’s a bit edgy?”
“There’s something feral about her.”
“She looks like she’s been through a lot, doesn’t she?”
“You’re deliberately avoiding my point.”
“She needs help and a safe place to stay, and I can provide both. If you want to stop me, you’ll have to kill me.”
“Why are you such a child?” Auni whined, but there was an edge of fondness to it. “I’m telling your father.”
Denny crossed her arms. “Go ahead. He’ll be on my side. Do I need to remind you how he met Mum?”
Auni made a pained face. Her brother Luke had a notoriously oversized heart, which he had kindly passed on to his daughter.
He hadn’t hesitated, over two twenty-five years ago, to lend his car to a perfect stranger whose own car had broken down at the airport, with only a phone number as a guarantee.
It had later turned out that said stranger was Heather Lewis, newly hired engineer in the airline company where Luke worked as a pilot.
Exactly one year later, Luke and Heather had tied the knot, and another year later baby Denny had blessed their union.
Auni, whose deeply logical mind made her the very opposite of her brother and niece, would never understand their tender hearts.
At forty-one, she was fiercely single and too busy travelling the world whenever she could to waste time on trivialities such as relationships.
“I can’t believe he’s my own flesh and blood.”
Chuckling, Denny pulled her into a hug, comforted by her familiar scent. “Thank you for checking her over. I’ll take it from here.”
Auni gave her cheek a loving pat. “Be careful, alright?”
* * *