Encounter Recounted

It was a dreary evening but a bit odd at the same time; it wasn't immensely cold for the time of year although I wasn't going to join the ranks of those wandering about in t-shirts.  There had been a big football match so the place was still busy, with plenty of visitors milling around who may not be as sympathetic to homelessness as the locals.  I was on my guard and in a strange state of nothingness between awake and asleep.  I was in my sleeping bag to keep warm but still sitting on a small seat I had acquired.  The vantage point is good and it is a lot more comfortable than the cold, hard ground.  That said, the seat leaves me with a little shoulder and back pain, but the concrete floor can be agony for my legs, hips and neck.  I was just contemplating whether to sleep on the floor or get comfy on the seat and risk nodding off and falling off when she wandered round the corner with armfuls of newspaper.  “Can I stay with you tonight?” she asked.  She looked a little absent so I agreed, at least that way she wasn't going to walk off into traffic or something equally hazardous to health.  She set about arranging her newspapers into a printwork carpet of tabloid headlines, and as it felt a little rude being on my seat, I sat down next to her.  She told me her name and asked mine, she seemed genuinely excited when I told her, it was much the same reaction as telling a small child they will be going to Disneyland.  To be fair, it is an unusual name so the reaction wasn't totally unexpected.

She asked me if my sleeping bag was nice and warm.  I could see where the conversation was heading and whilst I felt quite warm she was visibly shivering.  I asked if she was hungry offered her some food – just being awake burns a lot of calories, trying to raise body temperature even more so.  I unzipped my sleeping bag, slid carefully out and handed it to her.  She didn't need asking twice and moved like a proverbial rat up a drainpipe.  The poor girl was frozen solid, I was curious as to her circumstances but it is not my place to pry.  We chatted for a bit, her thoughts and questions interspersed with chugging on a can of lighter gas she had in the sleeve of her jacket.  So sad to see a life wasted on addiction but I am not one to judge – the addiction is without doubt an attempt to deal with something else.  The last thing I want is to tear open old wounds with questions, but it would certainly go a long way to explain her personality and behaviour.  It was an otherwise uneventful night.  A driver delivering pre-packaged food to the outlet just down the way threw me a wink and a couple of treats as he walked past.

It started raining in the early hours – not heavily but persistently – so I carefully re-arranged my latest companion so that neither her nor the sleeping bag got wet.  I got a little sleep myself, maybe no more than 30 minutes or so but it all counts.  We had an early morning roll-call from a council official who just wanted to see who was on the streets, why they were there and that they were OK.  It seemed as good a time as any to get moving – my hip and leg don’t do so well for staying in one position for too long – so I gently woke my charge who was full of gratitude for seeing her safely through the night.  We discussed our plans for the day as I packed away my sleeping bag, and she offered me a meal ticket to somewhere or other.  I declined partly out of politeness and partly through lack of hunger.  We hugged and went our separate ways for the day.  I dare say our paths will cross again – people like that have a habit of popping up just when you least expect it.