On the Bodies of Strangers is a short story collection linked by the common theme of tattoos and the way we make our mark on everyone around us. The extract below is taken from ‘Naming of Bones’ that follows a day in the life of Valeria and her daughter, Mina.

On the Bodies of Strangers
By Hannah Stevens
Published by Wind & Bones

Mina finally finishes her cereal. Valeria lifts her from the high chair and kisses her head before she puts her on the floor. Her hair is so soft and fine. She still smells of the shampoo Jenna had washed her with yesterday. 

‘Book,’ says Mina. 

‘Sure,’ replies Valeria. ‘Maybe some quiet reading will be good after your night of being an owl.’ She watches as Mina totters over to the bookshelf and pulls out one of her favourites. 

‘Ahh,’ says Valeria as she follows her. ‘Of course.’ 

Mina holds up a child’s biology book. The white cover is marked and sun-bleached, the pages dog-eared through use. Valeria sits on the sofa and waits for Mina to join her. Outside, she can hear birds in the apple tree, the noise of a lawnmower a few doors down the street. 

Valeria shifts her body as Mina climbs onto the sofa and makes herself comfortable in her lap. There is a breeze from the open window, but the heat of Mina’s body is uncomfortable so close to her own. 

The book’s pages are brightly coloured, full of big picture and the names of each illustrated body part, limb, organ—all the things a biology teacher would know. Mina touches the pictures with her index finger. They’d been naming bones recently, learning them all by heart. Valeria points to one of the pictures. 

‘This one, what’s this one?’ 

‘Skull,’ says Mina, momentarily touching her own head. 

‘That’s right,’ says Valeria. ‘We’ll make a doctor out of you yet.’ Valeria points to the book again. ‘And these ones: cervical, thoracic.’ She turns the page, reading faster. ‘Humerus, radius, ulna.’ Of course, Mina can’t pronounce them properly, but it is funny to try. 

‘What about these?’ asks Valeria as she pulls up her T-shirt sleeve. She points to her tattoo. ‘Remember? Ribs, clavicle, scapula.’ 

Mina touches the tattoo, lays her whole, tiny hand onto the skin there. She’s always so fascinated by it. 

Valeria stretches her legs outwards and wiggles her toes. She’s beginning to lose sensation from sitting with Mina’s weight on her. 

Without warning, Mina picks up the book and throws it onto the floor. 

‘Oi,’ says Valeria. She looks intently at Mina’s face, her furrowed brow. ‘Maybe it’s time for you to have a little nap while I tidy up.’ She pulls a blanket from the back of the sofa. Usually, Mina would resist, but today she lays down. 

At the sink, Valeria runs the breakfast dishes under the hot tap, soaps them quickly with the scourer, and then flings them onto the draining board. She should have put the dry crockery away first, but she can’t bring herself to. The routine and the messiness of the kitchen feel stifling. Outside, the lawnmower has stopped, and she can smell cut grass in the air. She dries her hands even though the washing up is not finished. She wants to be outside, with the sunshine on her skin. 

Mina’s voice floats up from the sofa. ‘Valeria,’ she says. 

‘Yes,’ says Valeria. She heads over to her. Mina is sat up, waving a piece of paper in her hand. ‘Oh shit,’ says Valeria under her breath. Now she’s closer, she can see that Mina is holding a sheet of transfer tattoo designs. They must have fallen behind the sofa cushions. She hadn’t thought to check the toy box, to search the house yet, to remove them all. 

She knows that Mina will be determined to have one stuck to her arm now. She was always resolute in what she wanted, but today she is tired, grumpy from lack of sleep, and there will be no distracting her. 

Valeria thinks of Jenna, wonders how furious she’ll be. Mina is looking closely at the designs, her face pink, her furrowed brow single-minded and intent. ‘Maybe later,’ says Valeria. ‘Why don’t you give that to me? We can go out to the park.’ She reaches out to take the sheet, but Mina snatches it away. 

‘Tattoo,’ says Mina, her voice loud and quivering. 

‘Okay, okay,’ says Valeria. She doesn’t want to deal with a tantrum today. ‘Tattoo first and then the park.’ She’ll bath Mina early and make sure to wash it off as thoroughly as she can. 

Valeria bends and lifts Mina onto the work surface. She squeezes out the excess water from the washing-up sponge and places the transfer tattoo onto Mina’s forearm. Mina has selected the image of a skull and crossbones. Valeria wipes the damp cloth over the scrap of paper. The white backing begins to lose its opaqueness, and she can see the dark outline of the design beneath it. 

Finally, Valeria peels back the paper to reveal the transfer on Mina’s soft skin. 

‘There,’ she says. She stands up straight to admire its neat edges, the perfect placement. ‘My little pirate. Now, please don’t tell your mum.’ She lifts Mina down from the sideboard and watches her stroll off with her arm in the air. 

The play-park is busy. Mina shimmies out of her jacket and runs over to the climbing frame. It doesn’t take long for her to show another girl her tattoo. Valeria laughs and takes a seat on one of the benches. 

‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’ says a woman stood nearby. 

‘It is,’ Valeria says. She pulls her book from her bag and leafs through the pages until she finds the turned-down corner. The woman wanders off, and Valeria is glad. She’s never enjoyed small talk with strangers. 

After a while, Valeria begins to feel cold. She checks her watch. It won’t be long until lunch. And then in the afternoon, she can give Mina an early bath, a long soak and lots of bubbles to get rid of the transfer tattoo. She closes her book and pushes it into her bag. Mina is still on the climbing frame. 

‘Mina,’ she shouts. ‘Come and put your coat back on. It’s time to go home.’ 

Reluctantly, Mina complies. 

‘Have you had fun?’ Valeria asks as Mina arrives at the bench. 

‘Yes,’ replies Mina. Valeria slips her jacket back over her arms and takes her hand. It feels damp and cool. She knows it will smell metallic, like the bars of the climbing frame. 

At the road, they stand and wait at the crossing for the green man. A woman with white hair and a shopping trolley draws up beside them. She nods at Valeria, casts her eye over Mina. 

‘What a beautiful daughter you have,’ says the woman. 

‘Thanks,’ says Valeria, willing the lights to change faster. ‘But I’m just her nanny.’ 

Across the road, a flash of colour catches Valeria’s eye. 

She watches as a bright yellow budgie lands on the low fence opposite. ‘Oh no,’ says Valeria. ‘That shouldn’t be out here by itself.’ Mina follows her line of vision and points. 

‘Budgie,’ Mina says. 

‘Yes,’ replies Valeria with a frown. ‘It must have escaped from somewhere.’ 

‘It won’t survive out here for long,’ says the woman. 

‘No,’ says Valeria. ‘Maybe I could catch it in something.’ 

She lets go of Mina’s hand, rifles in her bag, wonders if there’s a scarf hidden at the bottom. 

At that moment, Mina steps into the road. 

There is the screech of tyres, and Valeria hears the thud as Mina lands: something solid and soft at the same time. 

Valeria drops her bag and turns to see the car coming to a sudden halt. She sees a dark shape in the road. She thinks of everything that has been broken—ribs, clavicle, scapula— and she screams. 

On the Bodies of Strangers by Hannah Stevens is published by Wind & Bones, priced £12.00.