Two a day.

The office stinks of smoke. There's a sleeping bag on rolled out on the floor and the bin is full of dirty underwear. I sit down at the desk and wait. Eventually she walks in with a cigarette in her mouth. Shuts the door behind her and pulls a box of matches out of her pocket. She strikes a match.
"Alright?"
"Fucking hell." She drops the match and it lands on the sleeping bag.
"How's your arm?"
She stubs the match out with her foot then looks at me. "You what?"
"Your arm looks better."
She shakes it. "Yeah, it wasn't broken."
"Oh."
She perches on the desk. "No time long see."
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
She frowns. "I thought it was ok?"
"What?"
"You haven't given up on it have you?"
"What?"
"The Helpline."
"You nearly got killed."
"Wasn't that bad, anyway, how come you haven't been in. We've had loads of phonecalls."
"What?"
"Yeah. A couple a day. More than I can deal with. I can't believe it really. Everyone's so greatful. It's so fucking... you know?"
"So you've been living here?"
She looks at the floor. "Yeah. Is that alright? My landlord kicked me out because I couldn't make my payments when I was ill."
"Shit."
"It's only until I can find somewhere."
"I'm not sure the University will be ok with it."
"Do they need to know?"
"Hasn't anyone come to clean?"
She shakes her head.
"I've been collecting the testimonials and the objects. Everything's been above board."
"Right?"
"You're not happy."
"It's ok. I just..." I look around the room. "How'd you get in?"
"Reverie gave me the key. I bumped into her when I got out of hospital. A couple of weeks ago. She said it'd be fine."
"Right."
"You're not happy."
"It doesn't matter," I say.
"Good. You off to this party tonight?"
"What?"
"Never mind."