'OLLIE'S' was a musty, run-down corner shop lined with bright merchandise so sugary it made her teeth hurt to look at them. Limp produce huddled together on white shelves like arctic explorers, freezing at the edges in a fridge far too cold.
David sent Maya in first before slipping to the medical section at the back, weaving through the aisles like an eel. The tanned, slim shopkeeper with her frizzy hair tied back in a neon scrunchie didn't even notice him, only sparing Maya a quick side eye before leaning back into the speaker of her red phone. She wore bold, outdated makeup and an even bolder outfit, matching the volume of her voice as she chatted away to another lady, gum smacking.
"No way he did that to you," Her shrill voice, punctuated by over-dramatic gasps, rang out through the shop. "Leave!"
In between the snacks and drinks aisles, Maya saw David gesture to her to follow him. She joined him in front of a rather pitiful array of plasters and allergy medications lined up like a dreary army on dirty shelves.
"So," he put his hands on his hips, "What are we getting?"
Maya picked up some blue liquid soap and turned it around. 'KILLS 99.9% OF BACTERIA', the package claimed.
She remembered what bacteria was from another living human she'd been watching. The man had become obsessed with the idea of germs after the theory was developed, driving himself to near insanity at the thought of them. His hands had been rubbed more raw than David's from constant scrubbing with harsh soap. As years went by he withdrew from others, isolated in his 'germ-free' room.
In the end, he had killed himself.
Drinking bleach to purify his stomach from bacteria and his mind from his disorder. The memory felt simultaneously distant and incredibly recent; her sense of time was still distorted after having been dead for so long.
"We'll get this one," Maya tucked it under her arm. "Those bandages, too," she nodded to a tired old package which her companion dutifully picked up, "and some antiseptic cream."
"Sounds like you know what you're doing," he nudged her and she couldn't help but smile. "Let's go."
"Do you have money?"
"Nah," David pretended to search through the bright array of sweets. She hardly noticed him shift and tuck the bandages and cream into his waistband; in fact, she doubted she would have picked up on the action at all if he hadn't reached out to grab the soap from her moments later, filing it away with the others like a hamster stashing its food.
Jagged near-memories in her mind poked Maya again when they turned to leave the shop. Act confident, she knew somehow.
Behind the counter, leaning on the cash register and running her fingers through her hair, the only attendant continued to jabber away on the phone. She was clearly talking to a friend, giving clumsy relationship advice.
"You need a better medical section," David called out. "Couldn't find what we were looking for."
She grimaced at him, smacked her gum and rolled her eyes as they hurried back out into the night.
The bands of orange and yellow in the sky were gone now, replaced by a dull black haze that blanketed the horizon. Stars were banished from the canvas by bold yellow streetlamps, swarmed by moths, their poles thick and textured from decades' worth of promotional stickers and posters slapped over the metal.
Crisp air slapped her after the static warmth inside the shop and Maya found herself shivering as they walked along. They were headed to a small pub; somewhere with a unisex bathroom for them to use.
"I'd give you my jacket if I had one," David noted her folded arms and chattering teeth. "But this shirt is all I got." With one raised eyebrow, he added, "I can still take it off if you want, though."
"Ha!" Maya rubbed her goosebump-covered arms. The attention to detail on the doll was truly perfect; she was utterly indistinguishable from the living. "I'll pass."
"Your loss." He put his arms up behind his head and strolled on.
Truth be told, Maya wouldn't have taken the jacket anyway. She relished the way the icy air zipped past her skin and stole any semblance of warmth from it. She loved huddling behind her arms and walking hastily to generate some heat. It all served as a reminder that she was alive again.
Death had been neither unpleasant nor enjoyable. Having no real form was an eerie, stagnant feeling, without any of the variations, the ups and downs that flow in life. It had been impossible, for example, for Maya to suffer a burn, or a dead leg, or the unique exhaustion that comes with standing in place for too long. Equally, she couldn't savour the gentle lapping warmth of the sun on her face, nor feel the comforting touch of a loved one.
Everything about being here, good and bad, reminded Maya of her fortune. Deus had agreed to the experiment out of curiosity and simple fondness of her soul, granting her another chance to feel this biting cold, to sigh at the aches forming in her feet from walking under gravity for the first time since her life.
The box in her pocket bumped against her leg with each step, a constant reminder that her time here was only as long as the spool of green thread she had to repair herself.
"Here!" David tugged her forward as they turned a corner to reveal a dingy, new-build pub.
With red-brick walls and a black double door for an entrance, the pub was nothing special. Gold lettering spelt 'The Green Oak' in some modern font across the front of the building, the only thing distinguishing it from the run-down houses around it. Cigarette butts were littered around the entrance like a pitiful flower display, casting shadows across the pavement when the yellow light from the windows hit them.
David walked in, kicking the door open to avoid using his hands. Although he'd never admit it, the pain was bothering him now. Although the bleeding had stopped, they had swollen and throbbed horribly with every movement.
As they entered the pub, a wall of buzzing chatter, warmth and cigarette smoke slammed them like a brick. The interior of the place was far more charming than its outside would suggest. Rich, antique wooden furniture and a dark wood bar over which drinks were exchanged freely were the standouts, along with a crackling fireplace that leached a smooth smokey scent, blending with the aroma of beer and meat from the kitchen seamlessly.
Ignoring a group of cigarette-wielding men that tried to call David over, they wove through the crowd and entered a small, surprisingly spotless, bathroom.
"Right," David winced when he tried to take the goods out from his waistband, "Fucking hell."
Maya didn't comment on his language. "How long were you using that bandage?" She queried, taking his hands over to the sink. Fortunately, it had warm water.
"Dunno. Maybe a month?" He grimaced when she placed his hands under the warm tap. The water came out dirty brown; a mix of dried blood, mud and general filth.
"Awful." Maya took the blue soap and lathered it on once she'd cleaned the larger chunks of gravel and dirt from his skin. To her pleasant surprise, his wounds appeared entirely superficial. After her brief earlier inspection she'd worried there would be more serious damage that she wouldn't be able to help with.
"How often do you bathe?" His shirt and the colour of the water would suggest not often.
"Don't just ask that." David glared, suddenly aggressive. She'd hit a soft spot. "Obviously I shower. This is just from today. Some Sallow guys cornered me so I fucked them up."
"Sorry," she offered, then added, "You don't smell. I was only asking due to the state of your hands." And clothes, she thought, keeping that final comment to herself. His shirt clearly hadn't been cleaned in a long time, stained and covered with small holes and a large tear in the right side seam near the bottom.
This seemed to placate him. "Are you nearly done?"
"Nearly." Maya massaged all the dried blood off his skin and watched as it swirled down the drain. The warm water soothed her own aching fingers from the cold as she patiently ensured the job was well done.
"Finished." She took his hands away from the sink and dabbed them dry with one of the bandages in the packet. There was a sad collection of paper towels by the side of the sink but she dreaded to imagine what germs were sitting along their white faces.
Maya dabbed some antiseptic cream along the edges of his larger cuts. They were more scrapes than anything else, and now they were purged from dirt it was clear none bore signs of infection. With a thin layer of the cream applied, she picked up the bandage.
For a few seconds, they both stood in silence as she stared at the fabric. How do you wrap a bandage? Maya didn't know. Opposite her, David waited with patience, trusting her to put it on properly.
A memory jabbed her like a pin through the skull. She allowed that vague feeling to guide her arms as she wrapped him up, skilfully covering his major scrapes while leaving enough slack in the structure to allow normal movement.
"There," she stood back from him slightly. They had been very close to one another while she was putting on the bandage but neither seemed to mind.
David flexed his fingers with a wide, cheesy smile. "It feels better already."
"Probably because now when you move, your fingers aren't grating gravel into your skin!" Maya poked. "I'm glad I could help."
"Mmm, it probably won't heal right without my special bandage though."
"Don't you dare make me think about that strip of blood and germs." They exited the toilet into an empty white hallway lined with abrasive grey carpet. To their right was the fire escape, on their right a modern wood door, the only thing separating them from the hum and buzz of people in the rest of the pub.
"I don't know, I was growing pretty attached to it." David teased. "Do you want to grab a drink?"
A drunken, middle-aged man with beer down his front bouldered through the hallway into the toilet. Listening to him retch inside as a woman his own age hurried over to check on him was enough to convince Maya to escape the area.
"And where do we go after the drink?" She edged towards the wooden door. "I don't have anywhere to go."
"I don't have anywhere to go either," his voice shifted from friendly to hostile without warning. Similarly to her comment about his cleanliness, Maya could tell she had struck a nerve. David folded his arms, demeanour prickly. "But you obviously do."
"What do you mean?" She'd been telling the truth- it wasn't as if Deus had fashioned her a dollhouse to go with her new body. The only belongings she had were the clothes on her back (which she'd have to change soon, the blood on her white shirt was not a sensible look) and the box.
"Your clothes, hair," he pointed to her pocket, "That weird expensive box you're hiding. You're a nurse, or some shit. And you speak posh. I don't know how long ago you ran away but you're not fooling me with 'I don't have anywhere to go'."
He punctuated the last part with mocking air quotes. All his previous fondness towards her was wiped clean, replaced with a cold wall she didn't know how to break through.
"I'm not lying, I don't remember-" He cut her off.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," David headed towards the fire exit, bobbing his head around like a rabbit desperate for escape. His white bandages stood out against the cigarette-stained walls like tiny beacons, reminding Maya that he'd left her with the remaining medical supplies he stole.
"Are you going home?" Wrong thing to say, her mind hissed.
David pushed open the door with his hands this time and left without a reply.
Head swirling with a toxic concoction of half-formed memories, Maya tried to string together a sentence to make him return but the words refused to align themselves on her tongue.
The fire escape door slammed shut and she was alone, left with only her thoughts and the couple in the bathroom.