I looked into one room where there were a couple of teenage boys playing table tennis. ‘What about that guy there?’ I asked as we watched a fit-looking black boy thrash his opponent.
‘That’s Michael. He was thrown out by his parents when they found out he was gay. Not all societies are as liberal as the majority these days. In some ethnic groups being gay is still taboo.’
As we explored further, I was amazed at how many people there were about my or Charlie’s age.
‘There are more than a hundred and twenty thousand children and teens homeless or in temporary accommodation,’ said Aunt Maddie when I asked about them. I glanced at some of their faces as we went through the various rooms. They looked no different to the kids at my school – hanging out, watching DVDs, playing cards – they just looked scruffier and maybe more tired, with shadows under their eyes. I couldn’t imagine not having a bed and a hot shower each night and clean clothes every morning, and my heart went out to them. I will never think of them just as the homeless again, I thought, I will think of them as people, just like me, but who have fallen on hard times. Individuals. I will remember each has their own story and I will think about who they are and why they have no home, instead of just thinking about them as people to be avoided.
Soon it was time for lunch to be served in a hall where trestle tables had been laid out with red tablecloths, cutlery, glasses and crackers. Charlie and I helped serve up and I made sure I gave Arthur and Michael an extra helping of turkey. The atmosphere in the hall was happy and festive, with a great fuss made over the pulling of the crackers. Now everyone wore their paper hats, homeless and volunteers alike. And not a scrap of food was left on the plates when we cleared away.
After lunch, I got chatting to a few of the guests, as Aunt Maddie called them. Mary, a young pregnant woman, cried when she told me that apart from having no home, she was anxious that the authorities would take her baby away. She also told me that the streets weren’t safe for women. I couldn’t imagine being out all night, in all weathers. I always hurried home when I had been out somewhere and always made sure I was with someone or had Dad or Gran pick me up if I was going to be late. It had been drilled into me by Mum, Gran and Dad that it wasn’t safe to be out alone, but these girls were out all hours, on their own and vulnerable.
As I went around, I noticed that many of the guests had carrier bags with them. A cute cherub-faced volunteer called Matt told me that those bags contained all they owned in the world. I couldn’t help thinking of Alisha’s designer carrier bags stuffed with expensive presents, her dressing room full of more clothes than she could possibly wear. It was such a contrast.
‘Sadly, lots of them turn to drugs and alcohol,’ said Matt. ‘I suppose it’s a way to numb the reality of their situation and who can blame them? So many are depressed, feeling they have no hope so they drink themselves into oblivion to blot it all out. It’s a downward spiral. If you’re an alcoholic, no-one will employ you. If no-one will employ you, you get depressed, so you drink.’
‘No wonder,’ I said. ‘It must be awful.’
The day so far had been a total wake-up call for me. Not what I’d expected at all. Yes, the situation was sad for all of them, but so many of them were brave and resigned and eager to get back to normal – and very enthusiastic about making the most of the facilities provided for these few days.
Charlie and I went back into the kitchens to do our share of the washing up then Aunt Maddie said that we could go home.
‘You’ve both worked hard,’ she said. ‘Take off any time you want.’
I looked at Charlie. ‘I’d like to stay. How about you?’
‘Deffo,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I’ve a table tennis game booked with Michael.’
‘Great,’ I said, ‘because Katya was going to show me some of her drawings.’
At tea-time, mince pies, brandy butter and great urns of tea were supplied. Once again, the guests tucked in with gusto. After tea, there were games and music and it seemed every type of entertainment had been laid on and many of the advisers came to join in the fun. Everywhere in the hall and adjoining rooms, something was happening. Around nine o’clock, Matt started up a conga. At first only five people got up to form a line and put their hands on the person in front’s hips. The boys from the rock band got up and ten more people joined in. Aunt Maddie, Katya and Sharon, Charlie, Michael and even Arthur joined the line. In the end, almost half the guests were on their feet and the line circled the main hall, danced into the corridor, all singing ‘Oh, the hokey-cokey!’ at the tops of their voices.
‘This has been one of the top Christmases ever,’ I said when it finished, and I collapsed onto a chair near Charlie. I couldn’t have felt more surprised. A day I had been dreading had turned out to be better than I could have imagined. Porchester Park was so quiet, with everyone gone away and it had felt flat there despite the fabulous decorations. Here, it was buzzing with Christmas cheer – a group of people working together and a great atmosphere. I’d never felt the Christmas spirit more keenly, even though I knew it was bitter-sweet. It had been such a happy day but I felt so sad about the guests’ situations. I only wished I could do more to help them, especially people like Arthur.
‘I’m going to volunteer every year,’ I said.
Charlie nodded. ‘Me too. My band could come and play. I’m sure they’ll all be up for it when I tell them. And then I am going to become very rich rock star so I can donate. I mean, someone has to pay for all of this and not just with their time.’
I glanced at Aunt Maddie who had sat down on a nearby chair. She had a big grin on her face. ‘Well, your mum would certainly have enjoyed seeing you two wash up and peel vegetables!’ she said. ‘She’d be in hysterics over that.’
‘Cheek!’ I said.
She straightened her expression. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t help it. It’s just great to have you two here and I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I think your mum would have loved it too.’
I nodded. It was exactly her kind of Christmas Day.
Sorted. Every year from now on, this is where I’d be. Somehow I could feel Mum smiling down on us – and not just because we’d done some washing up!
I’d found my perfect new Christmas tradition.
8
‘So, you ready to rock with Riko?’ asked Pia as we made our way over to the front of Porchester Park.
‘Yeah,’ I replied reluctantly. ‘I guess she needs friends but I’m glad you’re coming too.’
Last time I was up at the Mori’s apartment, visiting the cats, Riko was moaning that Porchester Park was like a prison and how she was going crazy. While I was there, she asked her dad if she could go shopping with me now that we were friends. Friends? That’s new to me, I’d thought but I’d agreed to show her round, especially when I heard she wanted to go to Harrods, as they had an awesome sale. Sure enough, she was waiting for us in reception with her father the first day the shops were open again after Christmas.
‘I think I can trust you to look after my daughter, Jess,’ said Mr Mori. ‘You’re a sensible girl. Stay together and you have my number if you need to call.’
‘Da-ad,’ said Riko as she bustled us out towards the waiting limo. ‘I’ll be fine. Come on, guys. Let’s go.’
We got into the car and were soon being whisked away towards Harrods which was all of two minutes down the road. Mad, I thought.
Riko was in a good mood. ‘Free-ee!’ she declared giving us a big smile and putting on her huge black sunglasses. ‘I just want to merge with the crowds. No-one watching over me. No-one noticing me. I want to be invisible.’
I didn’t say anything but the chances of her not being noticed were pretty unlikely dressed the way she was. She was wearing a vintage blue silk jacket, a massive pink scarf wound twice around her neck, denim shorts, sports sneakers and ripped fishnet tights. Her hair was piled on top of her head sticking out at all angles and kept in place with what looked like two red chopsticks. Like all her unusual outfit
s, it worked, but invisible she was not. I felt so boring next to her in my jeans and ordinary three-quarter-length red coat.
The car dropped us at the entrance to Harrods. The young American driver looked at his watch. ‘I’ll return in two hours,’ he said. Riko didn’t reply. She headed straight for the shop door.
‘Thank you,’ said Pia to the driver. ‘We’ll make sure we’re here.’
Inside the shop, a doorman in a green-and-gold uniform glanced out at us, then opened the door. Immediately, we were swept into a frenzy of noisy, enthusiastic shoppers as they pushed and shoved their way down the aisles, eagerly looking for sales bargains. All around, I noticed different accents, – every country seemed to be represented here: Italian, Japanese, Indian, French, German, Arab, Americans – a united nation of bargain hunters under one roof.
‘This place has got more pull for tourists than all the London museums and galleries put together,’ I shouted to Pia above the babble.
‘And it’s much more fun,’ said Riko as she forged her way forwards.
‘Is there anything in particular you want?’ Pia asked Riko when we caught up with her.
She shook her head and took her sunglasses off. Her eyes shone with excitement. ‘All of it!’ she said and set off towards the cosmetics department.
We followed her with some difficulty as she darted this way and that through the throng of shoppers, only pausing occasionally to do serious damage to her dad’s credit card. I looked at my watch and was amazed to see we’d been there for almost an hour. When Pia and I went shopping, we’d always take our time and have a good look around before buying anything. Riko was a whirlwind, grabbing a couple of designer purses here, scooping up a whole shelf-load of perfumes, lipsticks and eye shadows there, then moving on to scented candles. Once paid for, she’d toss the bags to us to carry for her, as if we were her servants.
‘How about we go and get a drink?’ I pleaded as another carrier bag was thrust my way. ‘They do fab organic smoothies.’
Riko checked her watch then nodded. ‘Um. Sure. Good idea. I’m just going to the Ladies then I’ll join you.’
‘Oh. I’d better come with you then,’ I said.
Riko looked horrified. ‘I’m not a baby.’
‘I know but your dad said we had to be your minders and not leave you alone,’ I said.
Riko rolled her eyes. ‘Gimme a break, guys. We’re just hanging out, OK? We’ve only got another hour before we’re picked up. What are you? Prison warders? Come on. I’m a big girl, I can go to the bathroom by myself. Give me some respect.’
I glanced at Pia, who shrugged. ‘Your life,’ she said.
‘OK,’ I said, but I didn’t feel happy about it. ‘There’s a café on the lower ground floor. Do you know where it is?’
Riko nodded. ‘Sure. I have been here before you know. Down the escalator, right? Anyway, you have my mobile.’ She didn’t wait for an answer. She glanced quickly at her watch again, then took off.
‘See you in five,’ she called over her shoulder and then she was gone.
Pia glanced down at the bags piled all around us and laughed. ‘You’ve got to admire her cheek. I wonder if she’d have helped us carry anything we’d bought.’
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘NOT.’
We slowly picked our way through the crowd to the lower ground floor escalator but I couldn’t resist the temptation to stop to try on a few perfumes. ‘Mmm,’ I said as we sniffed in tuberose, amber and vanilla scents.
Pia pulled me away. ‘We’d better go,’ she said. ‘In case Lady Mori gets to the café before us.’
There was only a short queue of people waiting to be seated in the café. After a short while, a handsome man with a name tag that said Vincenzo showed us to an area in the corner of the café with white leather seats studded with silver buttons.
‘Very posh and a half,’ said Pia as Vincenzo gave her a large menu. She glanced at the drinks list. ‘Oops. Poverty alert. A fresh juice costs seven pounds. Orange is five pounds. Um. Maybe we’d better skip drinks. I’ve only got a tenner and that has to last me the rest of the week.’
I took the menu from her and winced at the prices. ‘We could share a bottle of pineapple juice, that’ll only be three fifty.’
‘Deal,’ said Pia. ‘You have the pine, I’ll have the apple.’
Vincenzo came back to take our order and gave us a disapproving look when we asked for one drink between the two of us. He flounced off and a few minutes later, our drink arrived.
‘I can’t help but think about all the money being spent here,’ I said, ‘and how the people I met on Christmas Day had nothing.’
‘I know but I’m sure a lot of these shoppers do their bit. I’m always reading about how rich people and celebrities do loads for charity. Some give away tons of dosh, others organise parties where everyone has to pay for their supper and then they auction stuff off,’ said Pia as she took a slurp of the juice. ‘Mm, yummy. And why shouldn’t they enjoy their money too?’
‘I guess. It’s just a lot to get my head around. I seem to be experiencing amazing extremes lately, you know, the super rich and the seriously poor.’
Pia nodded. ‘I know what you mean, but people do what they can in different ways. I mean, whose to say who does more good? Someone like your Aunt Maddie who gives her time or a millionaire who gives his money? Both make a difference.’
‘I guess. But there’s a huge imbalance in the world, don’t you think?’
Pia laughed. ‘You should become a politician if it bothers you so much. Me, I’d rather become very rich then make big donations to help out.’
‘That’s what Charlie says too. Hey, do you think we should order something for Riko?’ I took a tiny sip of our juice then handed the glass to Pia. She also took a small sip. We knew we had to make it last.
Pia pointed to a wall clock. ‘She’s been gone quite a while.’
‘Bound to be a queue at the Ladies. Always is.’
‘Or she’s running up her credit card again.’
‘Probably,’ I said. ‘You don’t think she came while I was trying on perfume, do you? Maybe she was really quick, got here and didn’t see us, then went to look for us.’
‘Maybe but I doubt it. You stay here and I’ll go and look then I’ll text you when I find her.’
Pia went off and as I sat waiting, I saw Bridget O’Reilly waiting in the queue. She waved and came over. ‘Hey, Jess. You all alone? Mind if join you?’ Before I could answer, she’d tucked herself into Pia’s empty seat. She tapped a foot against one of the heap of carrier bags by the chair. ‘Any good bargains?’
‘Some, there’s a sale on.’
‘That’s why I’m here. Good Christmas?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, actually.’
‘What did you do?’
I glanced around, then took a sip of the juice. ‘Oh, you know, the usual.’ I was determined not give anything away.
Bridget smiled. ‘Not still worried about talking to me, are you?’
I shrugged a shoulder.
‘Ah, who’s to see us here? I’ve a few days’ break left and I’m doing a bit of shopping and today, I’m not at all interested in where you live or who lives there. Now, would you like another juice?’
It was tempting but I shook my head. No harm in a bit of a chat, though, as long as it’s not about Porchester Park, I thought. I liked Bridget and she was the only one of the paparazzi who didn’t make me feel like I was a nobody. ‘How was your Christmas, Bridget?’
‘Oh, it was fine,’ she said flatly.
‘Did you go back to Ireland?’
Bridget shook her head. ‘No. Both my parents have passed on now.’
‘Any family over here?’
‘Aren’t you the inquisitive one today? Ever thought of becoming a journalist with that enquiring mind?’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy.’
Bridget smiled. ‘That’s OK. To be honest, Jess, Christmas isn’t my favourite time
of year. I do have family: a daughter, but she’s off on her gap year. She’s in Australia at the moment and, before you ask, I’m separated from my husband so I spent Christmas alone with the telly.’ She made an attempt to laugh. ‘Ah then, aren’t I the sad one?’ She sat up straight and smiled. ‘Not really. It was fine.’ I got the feeling she was acting brave and had actually been lonely over the holidays.
‘I think it’s a tough time for a lot of people,’ I said. ‘There’s a lot of expectation and build up. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. We have to do an essay for school on the perfect holiday, that sort of thing.’
‘A beach in the Caribbean with a cocktail in one hand and a good book in the other, now that would be my perfect holiday.’
‘I think that’s where a lot of the residents are,’ I said then realised I’d let out private information and clamped my hand over my mouth. ‘Oops!”
Bridget smiled. ‘Ah go on, it’s OK. I’m off-duty today so anything you say is off the record.’
Even though I liked Bridget, I wasn’t totally convinced, so I decided to test her. A great idea flashed through my mind. I’d pretend to give her a really juicy story but it would be a monstrous fib. I’d tell her she wasn’t to tell anyone then if it got mentioned in the paper, I’d know I couldn’t trust her. If the story didn’t appear, I’d know that I could.
‘Actually there is something amazing happening.’ Bridget leant forward. ‘Tom Cruise is coming tomorrow and may be going to buy the penthouse duplex. Tomorrow morning in fact, at nine-thirty. All very hush hush.’
Bridget’s eyes lit up. ‘But I thought . . . is he really?’
I nodded. ‘This is strictly between us, right? You said off-duty, off the record.’
‘Of course,’ said Bridget. ‘You can trust me.’
At that moment, my phone bleeped that I had a text. It was Pia saying no sign of Riko. As I texted her to come back, Vincenzo came over to tell Bridget there was a table for her. I put my phone away.
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