Part 10 (1/2)

Russell made him walk in front of us. We walked along behind and Thomas brought up the rear. I said to Thomas, 'Whats the box for?

'He sleeps on it. The ground can be very cold and wet.

'Oh.

'And he needs to hang on to it in case it gets pinched.

'By whom?

'Other people on the streets, or those who regard the homeless as legitimate sport.

'Oh.

'For some people, the world is sometimes not a very nice place.

Russell made him sit in the back and promise to behave. He nodded, still clutching his bed and bag.

We achieved escape velocity, hurtled round the Whittington roundabout, and sling-shotted to Frogmorton. When Russell opened up the back he was sprawled on the floor.

'Oh, sorry, mate.

He scrambled out and stood looking around him. The light was still on in the kitchen.

'Come on, said Russell, and we all trailed after him.

Mrs Crisp was in her dressing gown making cocoa.

'There you are, just in time. Would you like some cocoa? She broke off as she got a good look at the guest. 'Whos this?

'Thats a point, said Russell. 'Who are you?

'Kevin.

We waited, but there was no more.

'Just Kevin?

He nodded, defiantly.

'Police looking for you, Kevin?

Mrs Crisp pulled the neck of her dressing gown closer and looked round for a rolling pin. Or possible a steak hammer.

He shook his head.

'Anyone looking for you?

Even I could feel the sudden sadness. 'No, no one.

'No parents?

He stared at his feet. 'No.

'How old are you?

'I was eighteen last week.

I felt so sorry for him. Other teenagers have parents who throw parties for their kids eighteenth. Or mark it with a special gift or a trip of some kind. Even Id got a laptop. This kid had spent his eighteenth birthday on a wet pavement getting kicked and p.i.s.sed on.

Mrs Crisp bustled forward. 'Thats enough. Can someone please organise him a good hot bath and a change of clothes? She glared at Russell until he got the message.

'Right, this way, Kevin. They disappeared into the house. I could hear them climbing the stairs. Mrs Crisp went to the fridge and started pulling out eggs, bacon, tomatoes all the makings of a good breakfast.

Not wanting to intrude, I said shyly, 'Can I help?

'Yes, of course. Thank you. Perhaps youd like to make the toast. Lots of it, I think, and plenty of b.u.t.ter.

I found the toaster and bread and set to, carefully b.u.t.tering the toast and stacking it over the range to keep warm. I found the marmalade, and under Mrs Crisps instructions, laid the table. Thomas took himself into the corner out of the way.

About twenty minutes later they were back. Kevin wore an old black jogging suit with the cuffs turned back and the legs pooling around his ankles. His hair was wet and a surprising dark blond colour. The downside was that without the protective covering of dirt, the bruises were much more visible. Hed had more than a bit of a kicking.

'There you are. Come and sit down. She pulled out a chair for him and, as he sat, laid a heaped plate in front of him. 'Eggs, bacon, hash browns, tomatoes, mushrooms, and theres plenty of toast and marmalade. Dig in.

He did. It was a kind of feeding frenzy.

'Slow down, said Russell, not unkindly, 'or itll all come back up again. Ill admit its good value to see your food go by more than once, but in this instance, its a bit of a waste. No ones going to take it away from you so just slow down a bit.

Kevin nodded, broke off to gulp down some tea, took a deep breath, and made an effort at table manners.

Russell, obviously feeling his guest eat shouldnt eat alone, made himself a bacon sandwich and tucked in as well. I had a piece of toast and marmalade and Mrs Crisp got up and came back with a lemon drizzle cake and we all had a piece of that too.

'So, Kevin, said Russell. 'Whats your story then?

It was more a question and answer session than a coherent narrative and he stopped for tea and another piece of cake. It all boiled down to a familiar and sad story. His father left. His mother, desperate for money and obviously feeling that any man was better than no man at all, took up with a man she probably wouldnt have looked at before. It was made clear to Kevin that he was no longer welcome in his own home. Reading between the lines, his mother never lifted a finger to save him. Only seventeen and with poor exam results, hed been unable to find work. He spent a little time staying with friends, but that petered out. Unable to get a job, he couldnt find anywhere to live and, unable to provide an address, he couldnt get a job. This was his first winter on the streets. Even after the bath, he still looked grubby. The dirt was more than skin deep. He looked exhausted, desperate, lonely, and deeply afraid. He kept looking around the kitchen, half afraid to stay and very afraid to leave. I wondered what Russell would do.

Obviously the bacon sandwich had lubricated his brain cells. 'We can offer you a room for the night, he said. 'Its not very much but its dry and warm. Mrs Crisp will look you out some blankets. Youve already got towels. Well give you breakfast tomorrow and then have a bit of a chat. There is a lock on the door if you want to use it.

The poor lad was suddenly shattered. After nights without proper sleep and then a big meal on an empty stomach, he could hardly keep his eyes open. He did, however, remember to thank Mrs Crisp for the meal. Underneath the worlds most inefficient mugger was a nice boy.

We gathered up various bits and pieces and made our way to the stable block on the other side of the yard. Russell led the way, so when he stopped dead, I walked into him and Kevin walked into me. Thomas neatly sidestepped all of us.

'Ive just thought, do you smoke?

'No.

'You sure? Its not a problem if you do, it just means Ill put you in another room, but I need to know if you smoke.

He shook his head. 'No. Never tried and now I cant afford it.

'OK, then.