Her bones ached, especially her legs. Miley grabbed the bucket of soapy water and lugged it from the bathroom to Jackie’s room. Where Jackie would be was always a mystery. On the floor, in bed, facing the wall, trying to clumsily pace until she tripped over, remaining on the floor, waiting to be helped up. Miley was meant to change the bed sheets but Jackie hadn’t stepped out of the bed at all the day before and lifting the woman when she didn’t want to be lifted was near impossible. She unlocked the door by sliding the lock, then she pushed it open, dragging the bucket behind her, water slopping over the edges.

‘Morning, Jackie. How did you sleep?’ The woman repeated the same incoherent words over and over while sitting on the edge of the bed. Miley opened the orange and yellow drapes, allowing some sunshine into the room. She held her arm across her face to shield the odour from entering her nostrils, being careful as she stepped across the uneven wooden floor. The room was in a state, no wonder her boss had been angry the previous night. ‘Right, let’s get you washed and dressed.’

Sweat beads began to form across Miley’s brow as she lifted the woman’s soiled nightdress over her head and pulled down her padded underwear. While trying to control her own light tremor, she bathed the woman with the warm soapy water, making sure she worked through the creases around the woman’s stomach area. Her lower abdomen lay like a deflated balloon over her thighs, like she had once been a lot larger, but had lost the weight. Now, she was simply bones with a lot of skin.

The world seemed to tilt and Miley’s mouth felt dry. She stopped and stared out of the window ahead, leaving the woman naked and damp, covered in soap, muttering to herself.

Caring for people hadn’t been Miley’s first option when it came to a career but it was money in the savings pot. By her calculations, soon she would have enough to start the life she really wanted to live. She leaned on the wall and closed her eyes. Where was her medicine? She held her hand to her brow. She needed her medicine and she needed it now. Her underarms were damp. Clammy and hot. Well, it was summer. Maybe it was because it was a scorching day and the windows were closed. Waves of nausea passed through her and blood began to pump around her body, filling her ears with a drumming noise. The beating quickened. Take a deep breath.

She inhaled and counted to three and filled her mind with pleasant thoughts of her past. In her mind, she was with one of her best friends, Stacey, outside the newsagent’s. Stacey asked her to go in and buy twenty Bensons for them to smoke in the park. She smiled as she remembered their joy when she’d been served. Wearing one of her mum’s jumpers over her school shirt had done the trick. They ran all the way to the park, hiding under the little wooden house that had been built under the slide. That was their mischief den. Miley had written in Sharpie that she loved Freddie. At the time she thought she and Freddie would be together forever. Writing it in a permanent marker seemed like the best thing to do. When they were old and married, they’d bring their grandchildren to see the graffiti. Stacey giggled when she wrote that she’d only ever love Jitterbug, her Labradoodle. They’d both been in stitches as they lit up. But that was then. She began to weep as she thought back to all those uncomplicated times.

Deep breath in, slow breath out, back to the present. The nausea had subsided. Her stomach groaned and grumbled as she grabbed a towel and began to dry Jackie. As she lifted the woman’s breast, she almost heaved with the smell. The flesh looked infected. She’d report her findings later when the boss came home. Jackie clamped her breast down as she continued to murmur nothings. ‘Jackie, just let me help you. I need to clean the wound.’

The woman brought her stick thin arm down and caught Miley across the face, catching one of her spots. She felt a wet trickle fall down her cheek and wiped it away, leaving a red streak across the back of her hand. Caring was hard, one of the hardest things she’d ever done in her life, but it was a grown-up thing to do, and she was a grown-up. She’d prove it. ‘I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, Jackie.’ She tried again. This time the woman allowed her to wipe away the pus. Miley almost gagged as she lowered her breast, grabbed a fresh nightdress from her top drawer and began redressing her.

‘That’s better. We’ll do your hair and make you all lovely,’ Miley said as she brushed Jackie’s thin greying strands behind her ears. For a moment, Jackie looked back, her eyes red as if she might cry. She slapped her liver-spotted hand over Miley’s. Miley wasn’t sure if she’d meant to do that as a gesture of affection or if it was another one of Jackie’s random acts. She placed her hand over Jackie’s. The woman went back to staring at the window, making her incoherent noise.

The woman kept murmuring as she gripped Miley. The bed dampened underneath them. Miley hadn’t replaced her incontinence pants and now the bed was wet. She jumped up before the wetness soaked through her leggings.

‘Jackie. Damn it!’ The woman rocked back and forth and waved her arms about. Miley kneeled in front of her. ‘I’m sorry.’ The woman looked away. Jackie didn’t mean anything. The grip of her hand had just been random. She wished that, only for a minute, Jackie would acknowledge who she was. They could be friends. They were friends but they never had a conversation like friends did, not like her and Stacey. She missed Stacey, their slide and bunking off school.

As she stood, she almost toppled over. The shakes were getting the better of her. She needed some medicine soon. She needed a hug, some reassurance. Leaning over, she embraced Jackie. The woman didn’t flinch, pull away or respond. ‘Please can you hug me, Jackie?’ The woman began to rock until Miley let go. Tears ran down her cheek. It was just a hug. She wanted a hug off the only friend she had left but that friend didn’t even acknowledge her. She grabbed the knitted doll from the bedside table. The thing had seen better days with its faded colours and its one button eye. She threw it back on the table as she felt the room make a sideward shift, causing her to lose her balance and sway a little.

Her stomach kept turning. She needed air. Stumbling to the window, she opened the small catch at the top and the faintest of warm breezes came in through the inch that the window would open. She rattled the main window but, as usual, it was locked. Body crumpling at the middle, she slid down the glass and sat on the ledge. She couldn’t do this job alone. Miley fiddled with the little friendship bracelet that a special friend had made for her and she twisted it around her skinny wrist.

She needed a lie-down. After she’d had a few minutes to ease her discomfort, she’d bring Jackie some food. The other boss always left their meals at the top of the stairs. Miley staggered across the landing with the filthy bucket of water and stopped. The porridge was on the top step, as it always was. Two bowls, one for her, one for Jackie. She placed the bucket down and slid the bowls out of the way.

Taking one shaky step at a time, she eventually made it to the door at the bottom of the stairs. As she reached out to turn the handle, her trembling knuckles scraped the coarse wooden door, missing the handle completely. ‘Try again, idiot.’

After a few attempts, her hand finally made contact with the handle. She turned and pushed, but it too was locked. It was always locked. The boss said it was to keep Jackie safe. Miley wanted to go for a walk in the fields outside, to smell the grass, just for an hour. That wasn’t going to happen today. It didn’t happen any day, despite her asking.

She gazed back up the stairs and closed her eyes. Through blurred vision, the stairs looked as though they were moving, like an escalator. Maybe it was the hideous brown swirly carpet, the pattern was confusing her eyes. She bent down and felt the stairs. They were still. It was definitely her mind playing tricks on her again. She crawled back up, using her hands until she reached the top. Porridge. Jackie needed her breakfast.