Alex had seen dozens of people in London like that after the war. As a little boy, the first time he had seen one such person, he thought the man had his legs locked under him for a joke.
“Hey Mister, that’s clever,” he had said. “How do you do that, would you show me?”
His mother was chagrined and had left him with no doubt as to the seriousness of his remarks. He was so mortified when he understood that the poor unfortunate had no legs, that the shame of his stupidity stayed with him, making him cringe whenever he looked back on it in later years. It was a miracle these people were still alive, making a living begging or selling leaflets, newspapers, anything they could make a few pence here and there, generally around the stations. The worst were the ones with half their faces shot away. Alex reckoned he would always have nightmares about those.
Bob was still rambling on.
“Yes, you stop by old Fred regularly and he’ll give you the details as soon as I pass them to him. Give it a couple of days and then make sure you see him. Now you look done in, do you want to kip here the night? You can get a fresh start in the morning.”
Alex was overjoyed, couldn’t believe his luck and the hospitality afforded him.
Fully sated after their meal, Bob and Alex relaxed. Suddenly, the room was filled with stench. Bob glared at Bruno who immediately heaved his great hulk up and making a quick snatch for his bone, exited at a fair clip, leaving both Alex and Bob simultaneously diving to open the window. Their riotous guffaws almost raised the roof.
“Sorry about that mate,” Bob said a while later, “Mastiffs are prone to flatulence.”
“And he sleeps by your bed you tell me; wouldn’t want to wake up to that each morning.”
Their chortling continued intermittently through their biscuits and tea, and for quite some time after. Needless to say, the culprit remained where he was until he was invited back.
****
Alex readied his possessions up for his trip the next morning and sitting on the edge of the sofa, paused to reflect and make plans.
He would make his base around the Primrose Hill area; commuting from there to Camden Town would be easy with only one stop at Chalk Farm. He had good associations with the whole area and remembered the first time he had heard the Salvation Army Brass Band in Chalk Farm where it was based and had been since it started in the 1880s. He knew that because he had talked to one of the Army Captains that day when he stood with his mum listening. What a great day that had been.
There was an old tree on the outskirts of the park which Alex had come to know well during his excursions with his mother. It had been a hard tree to climb but he had succeeded every time he visited. He was sure it would still be there. About a quarter of the way up, there was a sizeable hole which he’d discovered by chance when a really large woodpecker had surprised him one day. Yes, that would be the perfect place to hide his documents and cash as he built it up and build it up, he would. Later, he would go down to the local bank and open an account. He would never be without again and true to himself, he never was, always having fallback money throughout his life. Now that’s settled, he thought, where will I sleep? I know I’ll try the old bombed building near the park, hope it’s still there, he mused. He had played around there when he was small and had known it well.
That night Alex went to sleep much calmer, with a much better sense of purpose. Well after all, he had the chance of work, somewhere to sleep and somewhere safe to store his precious belongings.
“Yep, things are sure looking up and I’m hardly underway yet,” he said to himself as he settled himself down.
Chapter 4
Primrose Hill
A bright sunny day hailed the next morning. Bob was very hospitable, sparing no effort in ensuring that Alex had every comfort and sat him down to a ‘hungry-man’ breakfast.
“Get stuck in lad, there’s more if you want it.”
Alex marvelled yet again at the size and variety of the breakfast. Just like Frank, Bob seemed to be doing alright when most people were not. He wondered how they were doing it. Even Bruno had lucked out, it seemed and was under the table chomping away at an enormous bone with plenty of meat on it; his owner too was eating his way through the biggest portion of bacon that Alex had ever seen.
“So what you doing today lad, got any plans?”
“Well I thought I would get myself settled in. The knapsack is a bit heavy to cart all over the place and I’ll look up some people I know.”
Alex was thinking of the bakery shop that Frank had put him onto. He was looking forward to meeting Sid and his wife. He knew that Frank would be as good as his word and they would be expecting him and as he was not sure what Frank would have told Sid about him, he had to make sure he was prepared. Eye on the ball as always, Alex was going to make this contact his first port of call as soon as he got settled. He knew he was going to need a leg up here and there, and a bakery could give him practically all his food needs.
After breakfast, he gave Bruno a pat. The dog was much more receptive now that he had cleaned all the meat off his bone and it was safely stashed in his private pantry, a little patch of earth behind the shop, where he could get at it when the fancy next took him.
Bob had given Alex a scrumptious lunch which he stowed away carefully into his knapsack and straightening up, held out his hand formally to his friend.
“Thanks very much for breakfast and everything. I know I’ll be able to make myself really useful to you, you’ll not regret letting me help out from time to time.”
“That I know for sure, you always was a clever hard working lad. I can see you spending a lot of time in the shop too.”
Breaking the handshake, he put his arms around the boy and gave him a rough hug.
“Now don’t forget, look up old Fred day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll do that and thanks again.”
Turning, he gave Bruno yet another last pat and started down the alley on his way to getting settled in his new accommodation. What a laugh, he thought, my accommodation. Never mind, it’s just a start.
****
Alex stopped off at a little produce market en route. Impressed with the range of vegetables and fruit, he centred on the Cox’s apples, familiar to him because they had been his mother’s favourite. She’d told him that the apple was named after Richard Cox; the man who had first grown it in the early 1800s. He loved it as much as she had. Sweet and juicy, it was a crisp apple that always left a fresh taste in his mouth as if he’d just cleaned his teeth.
The man behind the counter smiled a toothless smile, having seen the boy eying the apples and just to get the ‘lie of the land’ Alex moved closer to engage him in conversation.
“Do you want to buy any then?”
“Oh, I’m just checking out the produce,” Alex said casually. “Not really in the market today but I would be interested in any ‘fallers’ or ones that are already ‘on the turn’. Maybe I can make some sort of a deal when I drop by again.”
The man couldn’t fail to notice how poor and thin the boy was, he already had the picture; the youngin was as hungry as he looked, gaunt with not a spare bit of fat on his bones. He piled a few apples in a bag with a couple of pears.
Alex, watching him, rushed on with his carefully prepared spiel.
“If you ever need any help I’m right handy and can turn my hand to most things. I’ll even clean up around the stalls. Maybe I could work for anything you give me.”
Handing over the bag, the man spoke softly and Alex picked up a slight Irish accent.
“Now look, lad, I’m here seven days a week and if you don’t see me just ask any of my mates for Arnie, I’ll be around somewhere nearby.”
Alex clutched his bag of goodies thinking what with the bakery and some produce once in a while from Arnie; he should be in good shape.
“Thanks a lot, do you want me to do a bit of a sweep around for you or anything?”
“No lad, be off, I’ll put you to work n
ext time you come.”
Arnie grinned and in spite of his toughness, his heart went out to the boy who he knew was proud and hurting inside. He recognised all the signs having been down that road himself.
****
That afternoon was tough for Alex. His knapsack was weighing him down but he was determined to keep it with him, never to lose sight of it. He had to find somewhere for the night fairly close to Primrose Hill and the burnt building. It was dusk by the time he reached the general area and an eerie mist was closing in. He guessed that Regents Park and the canal would not be far, adding to the lack of visibility. Getting about would be much easier once he was more familiar with the tube train but at this point, he had to hang onto every bit of cash so he would be moving about on foot whenever he could.
Exhausted, he decided to rest up in a mini-park en route. As it was now dusk, he wouldn’t have to wait long before the place was deserted. Moving slowly, he scanned the area for a suitable spot. A willow tree, great, there had to be water around, willows needed a lot of water for survival and this was a huge one. He cast around and sure enough there was a little stream nearby; perfect.
That night, glancing around surreptitiously to make sure nobody saw him, he entered the tree through the trailing boughs. What a perfect spot, clean, dry, quiet. He’d be able to keep his clothes clean and the birds would wake him at dawn. He could nip down to the stream for a quick splash and be on his way. Actually, this spot may prove better than Primrose Hill, although he should have several stopping off points for emergencies, he was thinking and anyway he didn’t want to be seen in the same spot every night; it wouldn’t take long for people to catch on.
Settling himself down, he got out his torch, making sure that he was in the thickest part of the tree, so that his light would not be seen from the outside. Propping it up, he kept it on just as long as he needed to eat a delectable lunch which he had saved especially for dinner. Bob had really done him proud with huge sandwiches that would hardly fit in his mouth, scrumptious apple pie and some fruit. Breakfast had been so hearty that he didn’t really have any major hunger pangs, until then when he realised he was ravenous. While checking through his knapsack, he came across an envelope with Frank’s writing on it. ‘Just a little something to see you on your way lad, you take care of yourself and see you soon.’ Inside the envelope was a wad of notes, Alex was bug-eyed, he would never have imagined how kind people could be to him. He’d spent so long expecting the worst and here he had received nothing but the best since taking to the streets. Well-fed and relatively calm, after all he was now a man of means; he fell into the deepest sleep, fortunately, once again without any demons to torture him.
The next morning, he was awakened suddenly by the trilling of birds. Any other time, he would have bristled but this morning, he was grateful. Among his possessions, he had a very old-gold watch which had belonged to his father, given to him with great ceremony by his mother.
“This watch was very special to your father; he would have wanted you to have it. It was given to him by his mother when she lost her husband, your grandfather, in WW1. It had belonged to your grandfather and was presented to him by his colleagues from Walls Meat Company because of his years of service, which ended when he went into WW1 to fight for all of us just like your father did. Walls had been forced to lay off workers every summer because people didn’t eat so much meat in the warm weather, I suppose. Anyway, sales dropped but your grandfather was retained because he had been with the company for so long. It wasn’t until after WW1 that the company started making ice cream and they became rich and famous throughout the world and you know how good the ice cream is, don’t you?”
Then she ruffled his hair and smiled down at him.
Alex truly valued his special gift and kept it in the little tin with his other possessions that he could not afford to lose.
Getting it from his knapsack, he noted that the time was a little after 5:00 and after winding it up carefully replaced it. He’d better get cracking while the place was still deserted. He chose a shrubby area by the stream, stripped off and submerged himself as it was just deep enough to cover him sufficiently if he lay down in the cool water and boy was it cool. After the initial shock, he found it so invigorating that he almost purred with pleasure. He had the remains of a soap bar and deftly soaped himself. Handling the bar with caution as he wanted it to last as long as possible, he quickly put it back in its container. His mum was obsessively clean and had instilled good hygiene and good manners into her son. Me mam would be proud of me, he thought, squeezing his eyes against the emergent tears that again threatened to overtake him. He hastened his drying with one of the two old coloured towels. His mother had used them on him when he was little which now seemed a lifetime ago and he felt a strong attachment to them. Burying his face in the pure cotton, he indulged in a few moments imagining she was with him. He could almost smell her sweet fragrance in the towel just like the freesias she had always loved; they had always been her favourite flowers.
“Okay, that’s enough of that,” he muttered.
Once fully clothed, he felt much better and confident to face the day. He had saved a little bread and fruit for breakfast and gulped it down with water from the stream. Knapsack on back, he carefully parted the boughs and noting there were still no people around, slipped briskly out of the tree and set out on his way, stopping to fill his water bottle en route. Yes, this would make a really good spot for him to stay.
****
He was looking for Sid’s bakery, Frank’s contact and he wanted to do it first while he was still fresh and clean looking, had to make a good impression. The bakery was located near Primrose Hill and would be perfect as he hoped to make that area his base.
Just as Frank had said, he found Sid to be very friendly and welcoming.
“Come on in me boy, I’ve been waiting for you for the last couple of days. I’ve got some goodies for you and your mam. Elsie,” he shouted, “Alex is here.”
Alex was taken aback and noting his incredulous expression, Sid carried on hardly pausing for breath.
“Yes, Frank told me how you and your mam had fallen on bad times and would I look out for you. Well lad, any friend of Frank’s is a friend of mine and you stop by regular and I’ll always have a little something for you both. It may be yesterday’s but all my stuff keeps well.”
Still, the boy looked like a deer caught in headlights and Sid further elaborated.
"And another thing, Frank has been good to me over the years, a real mate and I can’t tell you how great it is for me to be able to help out people he cares about.
Have you had anything to eat today? I’ve got a drop of really good oxtail soup and fresh warm bread. Now how does that grab you?"
Alex’s mouth fell open. In the last couple of days, he’d met more kind people coming forward to help than he had in his entire life. Good old Frank for keeping his secret.
Elsie came bustling in. She was a large woman with pink cheeks and a huge crisp-white apron tied around her ample body with a huge bow. Alex thought she looked like a ship in full sail.
“Oh just look at you lad, you look half starved. Let’s get some food in you.”
Alex sat down to another robust meal with good company. He had begun to realise just how blessed Frank was to have such friends and how he enjoyed their company. There had been so many times when he had felt so utterly alone.
Having finished, he sat back and met Sid’s scrutiny, hoping he hadn’t shown just how hungry he was. The last thing he wanted was for Sid to know he was an orphan living on the street, although he was twelve now, going on thirteen, not a kid any more, he’d be a grown man soon.
“Just want to tell you, sir.”
“You call me Sid lad, like everyone else does.”
“Well Sid, just want you to know if ever you need any help in the shop or the storeroom or anywhere, I’m pretty handy and would be glad to work for food any time.”
Sid beamed, “Well
yeah I’ll take you up on that but you’ll get your grub and a few pence if you do anything for me. Got it?”
“Yes sir, I mean Sid.”
“Actually, I do have a little something. Frank tells me you’re very mechanical and can get into locks and all sorts. Well today, I managed to lock myself out of the store room. Would that be something in your area of expertise, young man?”
“Right on the money,” Alex hoped he sounded grown up. “Show me where the room is.”
Confronted by the door, he took a series of wires out of his pocket and a small piece of metal, almost like the lead in a very fine pencil with grooves on it. He fiddled around for a few minutes working on the lock.
“Open sesame,” he said with a cheeky grin spread all over his face and they both found themselves looking through into the store room from the open door.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Aren’t you the clever one?”
“How far is Primrose Hill or Regents Park from here?” Alex spoke nonchalantly as if what he’d just accomplished was nothing.
“I’d say about a twenty-five minute walk. If you’re going by tube it’s just a few minutes to Chalk Farm and the same to Primrose Hill. Actually, the walk from Chalk Farm is not bad at all.”
They were at the door by now.
“Now don’t forget lad, usually if you drop by early morning, you’ll get yesterday’s leftovers. If you drop by later, you’ll get this morning’s left overs.”
“Me mam thanks you Sid.”
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