I scrubbed at my face with my sleeve, angry at being caught in a moment of weakness. "No. No, I'm about as far from OK as it's possible to be."
I looked up, then away, ashamed at the state I was in. He was tall, and dressed in what under other circumstances would have counted as a really nice suit, but the effect was spoiled by the stubble and the mane of brown, disheveled hair.
"May I sit?"
"Why?"
"Because you look like you need a sympathetic ear."
I scrubbed at my face again, wincing as pain lanced through my arm. "Are you going to try to sell me something?"
"No, but it's a fair question I suppose. What happened?" he asked, gently, as he leaned back into the rickety chair.
"I fell down some stairs thanks to some bastard who was in a hurry."
"Today?"
"Maybe an hour ago. Vauxhall
