[fingernail polish] Dr Renfield insisted on driving, her otherwise practical car bumping slowly over the truck’s ruts on its way down from the cottage, but the moment after she made the wide right turn out onto the road, Meera was glad of it. It wasn’t the run-down heavy rattle of Dick’s truck, just a nearly silent purr down the road, even during moments where Dr. Renfield’s German upbringing made her stomp the gas and tear around whatever vehicle was in front of her on the little road, moving with a definite sureness that only precision machinery could match. She parked with the same precision, wedging herself neatly between the black bumper of a parked cab and the strip of zig-zagging lines where parking was off-limits, placed to the inch in the available space. The pub was dark, all wood panels and narrow aisles. Meera followed close, and Dick followed after, protectively huddling close to her as they passed a table full of loud men, and a burly man leered in their direction for a moment. They found a table[dialect: booth], tall wood hiding them from the view of the rest of the pub. “Dr. Renfield?” Meera spoke for the first time all evening, her voice shaking. “We’re not at school any more. I’m crossing a line already, so let’s settle this. Call me Sally anywhere but school.” Meera swallowed. “Sally, then.” “Yes?” Meera didn’t know what to say anymore. “Nevermind.” Steely grey eyes peered at her intently over steelly rimmed glasses. Meera shrunk back and almost looked away before Dr. Renfield smiled softly. “Tell me what’s happened. Dick didn’t tell me very much.” “It’s nothing. I...’ The same intent look. “It kept you out of school, which not even a fever would do last year. I remember you having to be sent home not once but twice because you were too ill, but you came anyway.” Meera looked down at the pub menu and flipped it over as if she were reading it, though none of the words made any sense to her. The barman stopped to ask for their orders, breaking down the invisible fourth wall across the outside of the table. Dr. Renfield and Dick gave their orders. Meera looked up at the barman helplessly. There was an awkward silence before Dick whispered in her ear. She repeated what he said, “Bangers and mash”, and they were left alone again. “Thank you.” Dick squeezed her hand. “So start at the beginning.” Dr. Renfield was insistent. Meera wasn’t sure how she managed to be kind and gentle and so demanding at the same time. She started to explain. Growing up in India. Arriving in London with her sister, alone, her family having no money to travel with them. Meeting her Uncle for the first time. Not fitting in outside of school. University applications. Meeting Dick. Her sister’s trouble adjusting.