CHAPTER 4
Rory reached the end of Tinsbury Dock and stepped into a derelict house. It stank of piss, sweat, and the ripeness of unwashed bodies. In the gloom she could make out shapes on the ground: beggars and others of the homeless persuasion were catching a little shut eye before the nightshift of begging and stealing began. She had slept amongst them too, once upon a time. Before Jake.
Rory picked her way up the stairs, nimbly avoiding the rotten planks. The house was a low, squat, two-storey affair. The first floor was practically rotted through, and there was very little to be found there other than a speedy return to the ground floor. Few bothered going up the stairs: the ground floor required no climbing and presented no risk of falling.
She continued up, all the way to the roof
