Sensing that Maddy was interested, she went on, “You can explain about your accident, so initially, you’ll be given light and easy duties.” She gave Maddy a friendly nudge. “So, do you want to give it a try? I know it’s not glamorous, but who cares? It’s a job. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to take it.”

Maddy decided to go for it.

That very afternoon, after Nurse Cathy finished her shift, she took Maddy down to meet the kitchen manager, a small beady-eyed woman called Miss Atkins, with a tiny little mouth and sticky-out feet.

There followed a brief interview, then a brisk walk round the main kitchens, which Maddy would be helping to clean. She was told, “Because there is a lot of foot-traffic during the day, the kitchens are best cleaned at nights. Does that pose a problem for you?”

“No, it’s not a problem for me.” In fact, it was ideal.

“Good! Of course, the work is hard… that’s why we currently have vacancies. I’ll give you a month’s trial, starting the day after tomorrow. If you knuckle down and work well, we’ll get on all right. But if I need to reprimand you more than twice, you’ll be out on your ear.”

Nurse Cathy had already explained about Maddy’s terrible accident. “I have no wish to throw you in at the deep end,” Miss Atkins said, less briskly. “You can start with the smaller tasks, then as you get stronger, you can take on some of the more demanding jobs.” She actually smiled. “Don’t worry, dear. I have no intention of working you into the ground. Don’t want to see you back here as a patient!”

The next thing was to arrange somewhere for Maddy to live. The nurse inquired at the staff office about the house on North Park Street, and after a bit of a tussle, and more paperwork and hanging about, they were given the key.

“The house has been unoccupied for two months,” the Personnel Manager told them, closing the big green filing-cabinet drawer. “It will need cleaning and opening up to let the cobwebs blow away.” The man gave no apology. “There’s no doubt it will be damp and univiting. But that’s the way it is, Sheelagh,” she told Maddy. “I’m afraid.”

Thanking her lucky stars for being given a roof over her head, Maddy signed the contract there and then.

Cathy, the nurse, said she would accompany Maddy to the house, but that first, they must go and have a sustaining meal in the staff canteen. Maddy was happy to do this, as she was feeling very wobbly by now.

With its stone mullions and deep Georgian windows, the house had once been a proud dwelling. When they opened the door however, the stench of damp hit the two women like a wall. “Phew!” Cathy led the way, carrying Maddy’s bag. “I’d best give you a hand to get rid of this smell.”

They went from room to room, and each one was the same – damp and dingy, and filled with secondhand furniture that had seen better days.

“We’ll soon have it shipshape and Bristol fashion,” said Cathy, and they did.

An hour later, with the windows having been thrown open to let the bad air out and the fresh summer air in, Maddy could see its potential. Not that she cared about such things any more. This house was a roof over her head, that was all. For now, she needed nothing more, except to be left in peace, allowed to hide from the world and not be a bother to anyone.

Under the sink they found cleaning materials and a round plastic bowl, and out in the yard Maddy located a bucket with its handle missing. But, “It will do the job,” she claimed.

So, the two of them got stuck in, and the old house began to look like a home. “You need bread and milk,” Cathy noted as they cleaned out the cupboards “and food of sorts.”

“I saw a little shop down the road,” Maddy recalled. “I’ll go and get a few things, and sort myself out tomorrow.” When she realized she had not even a penny, the shame enveloped her. “I’m sure they’ll let me have a tab or something, until I get my first week’s wages.”

Cathy would not even hear of it. “You rinse that rusty old kettle out,” she said, “while I go and get a few things to start you off.”

By the time she returned, with eggs and milk and bread, and a few treats like chocolate biscuits and a box of cornflakes for morning, Maddy had not only scrubbed and boiled the kettle twice over, but she had also found a pair of clean sheets in the airing cupboard. “I’ve shaken up the mattress,” she told Cathy, “and I’ve shaken and aired the blanket, so at least I’ve got a bed to sleep on tonight.”

Cathy had an idea. “Why don’t you come back with me to the nurses’ home, just for tonight?”

“I thought nurses weren’t allowed to bring anyone in?” Maddy asked.

“I’ll smuggle you in, if I have to.”

Maddy thanked her, but said, “No, it’s all right. I don’t want to get anyone into trouble. Besides, now that I’ve got a bed and food – for which I shall pay you back when I get my first pay packet, I’ll be fine here. Besides, I’ve got to get used to it, haven’t I?”

The truth was, Maddy had lost all faith. She did not intend being beholden, or close to anyone, ever again. Whenever she felt good, and came to believe life was giving her a fair chance at happiness, something always knocked her down again.

They ate their biscuits and drank their tea out of chipped cups, but that was okay, because between them, they had secured Maddy a home, and a job, and for that she was immensely grateful.

“How about I call round after work tomorrow,” Cathy offered as she was leaving, “if that’s all right with you?”

Maddy lowered her gaze. The nurse had been so good to her, but, “I’d rather you didn’t,” she told her. “Just now, I need to be left alone to sort myself out… please?”

Cathy nodded. She fully understood. She had seen Maddy come into the hospital, broken in body and spirit, and dangerously close to losing her life. She had seen how the surgeon had carved into the side of her face to mend the damage, and saw the stricken look in Maddy’s eyes as she stared at herself in the mirror. And she knew that, even in her wildest dreams, she could never imagine the physical and mental trauma that this quiet and scared young woman had gone through, and would still have to go through, before she was a whole person again – if ever.

Moreover, she wondered what had happened to her, in the moments before she went into the ditch? Something bad, Cathy was certain. Something that she had never spoken of – to anyone.

They said their fond goodbyes, and afterward, Maddy walked across the room to the fireplace, where she carefully lifted down the old cracked mirror and stood it on the chair. Then, removing the scarf from around her head, she looked deep into the mirror, shocked at the woman who stared back at her.

For a long time, she examined her face, the shorn hair that had flowed long and thick. The thick tramlines of scarring around her ear and down her neck, and tears filled her eyes until she could see no more.

She looked away. But the image was etched into her mind for all time. There would never come a day, she thought bitterly, when she might glance into a mirror and see the same Maddy she had always known. She might never have been conventionally pretty, but she had sometimes felt attractive – and sexy. Brad had loved the way she used to look. The person in the mirror was not Maddy. She was a sad and lonely stranger; someone she did not know, or want to know.

“They say it will get better and that I will hardly notice the scars,” she murmured bitterly, “but they’re wrong. In my mind I’ll see them every minute of every day, and I’ll know over and over, how they came about.” She was more bitter than she had ever been in her life. “But I can hide from the world and its cruelty. And I will!”

Her resolve hardening, she lugged the mirror out to the yard, and then fetched the old sheets from the bed upstairs. Laying them out, she sandwiched the mirror in between them. Now, with part of a broken paving slab from the yard, she smashed the mirror to pieces, sobbing wildly as the glass shattered and leapt underneath the sheets.