Circle Lives: Embankment

Pic: 0x010C

Embankment: Mean Streets

'Do you mind if we squeeze in?'

Amy wakes up with a start. She sits up and looks at the anxious face bent towards her. A mongrel with a piebald coat stands by the girl.

'It's just for tonight,' she adds, her hand clutching the dog's lead like it were an anchor.

'All right,' Amy says in a gruff voice and shifts her sleeping bag towards one side of the shop's entrance.

The girl sits down with the dog in between her legs and sighs. 'I'm sorry I woke you up, but I was feeling lonely and you looked so peaceful.'

'Do you have a blanket or something?' asks Amy. 'It's going to be really cold when it gets dark.'

'No, I don't have one. I've been staying at a hostel, but the people there gave me such a hard time that I ran away. I know it was stupid, but I couldn't stand their bullying anymore.'

Amy rubs her eyes, picks up her rucksack and rummages inside. 'Here,' she says, throwing the girl a big towel. 'I'll need it tomorrow morning, but you can have it tonight. See that bin over there? You may find some clean newspapers and stuff your clothes with them. It keeps the cold out.'

The girl returns making crackling noises. 'Do you have a drink?'

'No. How old are you anyway?'

'I'm fifteen, Max here is five, 35 in dog years.'

'A bit too young to drink alcohol.'

'Don't start, I've had enough lectures to last me for a lifetime.'

'All right, then, I'm no preacher. Good night.'

Amy lies down with her rucksack under her head and zips up her sleeping bag to her neck. She closes her eyes and falls asleep. She wakes up a couple of times during the night as she isn't used to sharing her space. She checks on the girl, who is sleeping wrapped up in the towel, the dog lying at her feet.

A whining car alarm wakes Amy up. She stirs for a while, then sits up. The girl and the dog have vanished. 'She stole my towel, so much for being kind,' she thinks bitterly.

She rolls her sleeping bag and secures it on the top of her rucksack. As it is Saturday and the sun shines, she walks down Villiers Street towards the Embankment Gardens. A garish poster sellotaped by the park map reads Street Arts Festival in colourful, fat letters and Today in bigger, black type. 'Oh, goody.'

The tea house is open but still deserted. Amy whistles and, after a couple of minutes, Gino comes out with a mug of tea and a croissant. 'Morning, Amy. Can you give me a hand with tables and chairs after you had breakfast?'

'Sure, Gino.'

Amy eats her breakfast on a bench, soaking the sun rays and dunking the croissant in the milky, sweet tea. Then she walks to the park's toilets and has a good wash in the sink. She dries herself with toilet paper, mourning the missing towel. She hopes to make enough money today to buy another one at the charity shop in Drury Lane.

When she reaches the hut behind the tea house, Gino is already busy moving stacked chairs towards the front. Amy lifts a plastic table and carries it by the chairs. She doesn't stop until all the tables are surrounded by chairs and covered with paper cloths, topped with sugar, salt and pepper dispensers.

'Come back later and I'll fix you some dinner,' Gino shouts and Amy waves at him.

The street festival is to start at twelve, but a few stallholders are already unpacking their wares and arranging them on their folding tables. 'One hour to go,' thinks Amy, checking her watch. She lies on the grass by a flower border planted with yellow roses and dozes in the sun. A shrill trumpet makes her jump up. A clown is staring down at her. Amy frowns then she jumps up and hugs him.

'Alex, how are you?'

'I'm well. I'm off the street now. I started selling The Big Issue, then I got a flat through Shelter. Now between selling the magazine and doing street performing and kids' parties, I'm making a living.'

'You've still got bad teeth.'

'Not for long. I'm going to have them fixed as soon as I've saved a bit more money. You should try it too.'

'I don't need anyone's help,' says Amy belligerently.

'Still the same, aren't you? Are you doing your tricks today?'

'Watch out, I've got some new ones! I'm saving money too for the winter. There's a nice hostel around Westminster where you can stay for up to four months. I'm too old for sleeping rough in freezing weather.'

'Listen, if you change your mind about The Big Issue, come and see me in Covent Garden, I'm there almost every Sunday.'

'Thanks, but no thanks.'

'I'm off then. See you later.'

'Yes, see you.'

Amy looks around in search of a good spot. A mime is performing on the stage, watched by a group of families with small children, while stilt walkers dressed as butterflies, fairies and birds circulate among the crowd.

Amy walks past Alex, who is surrounded by Japanese and American tourists, two dancers mimicking a courtship with an enormous bunch of flowers and stops to listen the harrowing melody of a violin.

A man dressed in a bear costume plays the saxophone by the stalls. 'He must be having a sauna,' thinks Amy, throwing ten pence in the instrument case, opened at the bear's feet. The sun is getting warmer and warmer and she removes her shirt. She looks at her T-shirt critically and decides it's not too dirty. She needs to go to the launderette soon, she doesn't want to end up like a smelly bum.

Amy is returning to her shop door with a big grin on her face. The day's takings, converted into crisp banknotes by Gino, are safe in her money belt, tucked inside her trousers. Coins jingles happily in her pockets. If the good weather holds, she may go to St James’s Park tomorrow and earn her crust there. If it's bad, she will walk to Oxford Street and juggle by a department store's entrance. Whichever way, she'll treat herself to an afternoon tea at the crypt cafe.

The girl and the dog are back. Before Amy can say anything, the girl hands her a wrinkly carrier bag. 'Sorry, the bag is a bit squashed.'

Amy peeks in the bag and sees a lemon yellow bath towel. She touches it, it's soft, thick and smells new. She gets it out of the bag and the price tag catches her eye. 'Where did you get it?’ she asks staring hard at the girl.

'I bought it with my own money,' answers the girl proudly. 'I exchanged yours for two cans of beer and then I felt so bad, you being so nice with us and all.'

'Where did you get the money?'

'You're curious, aren't you? I earned it. Also my boyfriend is back in town and I'm staying at his place.'

'Thank you.' Amy strokes the towel and put her right cheek against it.

The girl smiles. 'Can I come back to see you, next time my boyfriend goes away?' she asks.

'Sure, if you want.'

'Friends? My name's Susie, by the way.'

'I'm Amy.'

'Max, says hi to Amy.' The dog lifts his right paw and offers it to Amy, his pink tongue lolling out.

Amy is worried. Susie should have arrived hours ago. Susie's boyfriend is away and she has been spending the last three nights with Amy. Perhaps he has come back earlier. Or perhaps Susie has been arrested for drunkenness or stealing or whatever else she does to get money.

Every time her boyfriend goes away, Susie binges on cheap beer and gin and comes back to the shop door drunk and giggly. Amy misses her when the boyfriend is in town, but, on the other hand, it's best for Susie when he's around because he can control her drinking.

'Once a friend bought me some drinks while I was working and when he found out, he beat me black and blue,' Sue told her once.

Amy has never met the mysterious boyfriend and Susie has never offered to introduce him. She can only wonder about that part of Susie's life as Susie only tells her what she wants to tell her and gets angry or throw tantrums if questioned.

When she disappears to drink, Susie leaves Max with her and Amy has taught him some tricks, so he can help her to make money busking. He's so smart and undemanding. He doesn't eat much and a scratch behind his furry ears goes a long way. Amy loves Max and misses him when Susie is with her boyfriend.

Amy is kicked out of her deep sleep by a man's boot. She sits up and is about to protest, but the big man who towers over her spells big trouble. Recalling a vicious attack committed by a thug, when she lost her savings and two teeth, she freezes. Then she sees Max, cowering behind the man's legs. 'Hi Max,' she says and the dog comes forward wagging his tail.

'You must be the old bag Susie was always nattering about,' the man says in a gruff voice.

'Something happened to her?' Amy asks, another kind of fear playing in her head.

The man scowls. 'Nope. Wherever she is now, she can't keep the poor bugger.'

Amy takes Max's lead. 'Has she been arrested?'

The man whistles. 'She propositioned a pig and he got her all right. Her parents were called and took her away. Fellow down the station is a special friend of mine and told me all. He kept the dog for a few days to see how things would turn out and then dropped him at my place.'

'Oh. I see. Can't you keep him?'

'Nope. I'm no animal lover, I'm a business man. Sue told me that if something ever happened to her, you should have him. Take this, for his keep.' The man takes a roll of banknotes from his trousers' back pocket and peels off two twenties and a tenner.

'Thanks.'

'Well, I must be going. I've got two new girls starting on tonight. You got to watch them, can't trust anyone.'

When the man is gone, Amy looks at Max and sighs, 'What am I going to do with you, now that winter is coming by? I can't keep you at the hostel. No pets are allowed there.'

Max licks her hand and his toffee eyes are full of doggy love. When Amy’s tickles him behind his ears, his tails starts wagging frantically. Poor mite, he must have been starved of affection for a few days. If she only had her own place, she wouldn't have to give him up. Remembering Alex’s promise, Amy walks briskly towards Covent Garden. She is not too proud to ask help for someone else.