A few people were poor. Really really poor. Immigrants and asylum-seekers, bags of old clothes and whatever. Men in small groups, and women with babies and toddlers. You had to be careful with your bag and purse. People said that, if it was true, probably it was but you had to watch your purse anywhere.
It was the kind of old place where she might have seen Brian. The people hereabouts wouldnt have looked twice at him or the one with the limp. Guys were standing about, leaning on rails and against the wall. Tough-looking men, drinkers and junkies, the younger ones arguing, laughing and horsing about, then looking when you passed. You would have had to be tough to survive, so so tough. Would Brian have managed? You heard these stories. Not just men but women too. Unimaginable. What sort of life was it? hell on earth. You would have to keep moving. You might be healthy at first but the more you were on the street the worse it would get. The worse you would get. And if you were mentally ill. It was the worst nightmare. Poor Brian. People looking at you all the time. When do you sleep? When do you get a seat? Are you allowed to sit down? Washing yourself. You heard stories about people using lavatory pans, men shaving themselves out the toilet bowl water, women washing themselves underneath. What diseases would they catch? Contaminated water and contaminated blood. It was like nightmarish zombie stories, just horrific. And the constant constant hassle. Not just the police but people shouting at you all the time and doing dirty tricks, even like beating you up, setting you on fire; there were stories about boys burning people alive, old tramps; it was horrific to think people would do that, and videoing it too, just brutalised, people were brutalised, children, they were, horrible. That was Brian having to cope with it. My God
It would be strange him and Mo. How he would react, if he was racist, probably he was. But perhaps not. But it happened anywhere. People looked twice. It didnt mean they were racist. Only she got so sick of it, having to think about it and always you did and if you didnt you soon had to because something happened. It put you off going places, even entire districts. Although she handled it better. It was true that most people were. Even without knowing it, the very words they used. They didnt like Muslims, even hated them. And without knowing any my God that made you smile, if you didnt cry, how bad that was, how just sick; really, it was; so prejudiced and shocking, so so shocking. His mates who came to the house, she saw them looking at her too; not in a sexualised way but like they were wondering about her and wondering about Mo; how come here they were together? But surely that was all couples and not just white and Asian? People get together. How on earth do they manage that my God it is just my God it is just like so amazing. And sleep together, just literally sleep together! The trust in that alone! Imagine! Lying beside another human being and asleep, and them beside you and you just lying, and you have that trust because just anything they could do and you are powerless, you are so so powerless, so like all you can do, only trust them, you have to, just so have to — and get beyond it if you can, you have to, because then if you do, if you manage it comes the peace, peace comes, you close your eyes, that is the trust, you can close your eyes and trust the person. Helen trusted Mo; she knew she did, and she had to, that was the other thing.
London was so old. She felt that looking out the window too. The line passed through London Bridge station where they had the scary exhibition. Mo fancied seeing it. Helen did quite and would, but not with Sophie, definitely not with Sophie. That sense of ‘plague’, plague victims. It wasnt scary, it was sad, like zombies, zombies were sad, locked into their disease, the contamination, never satisfied until they infect everybody, if one has to die they all must die.
But it wouldnt be like that, people werent so evil, they were generous, they would want you to survive like with their bell too, people had a bell and rang it; that was like leprosy, they walked the street but kept to the shadows, and how their flesh was eaten away by it, just ravaged faces, and that was the old streets in London too like Jack the Ripper days, evil-smelling and foggy shadows, you would never leave the house, what a nightmare, the olden days, my God but then if it was like Asia or Africa, that was them right now; people were angry, no wonder; Mo was right when he said it.
Oh well, the tube or a walk? She enjoyed walking up from the station but tonight she was taking a tube; her railcard covered it anyway. It was her mind but her mind was jumpy. A funny expression, ‘jumpy’, but it was how she felt. If she could have relaxed she might have done it, she might have walked, because she did enjoy it, although she preferred walking down to walking up. There were hills in London even if you didnt notice them.
But the night ahead, things to think about, she wanted to be clear and just have it worked out, work through things and what she would do, walking helped the process, it could.
Perhaps she would walk. She had a choice of tube stations too. Usually she travelled to the one nearest the casino but not necessarily. Really, it was six and half a dozen. What did it matter? just save hassle, that was the important thing, making life easy, so so important, it was.
The train had arrived at Charing Cross and she still hadnt worked it out but that was her and her indecisiveness; she was so hopeless when it came to decisions, she just seemed to do things, or else didnt do them. Why didnt you do it? You said you would and now you didnt.
I changed my mind.
She changed her mind. Was that ‘allowed’?
But did she ‘change her mind’? Did she even have a ‘mind’? Mind. People were people. Helen didnt care about any of it, only Sophie, worries about Sophie like if the childminder, Azizah — Azizah was good and Helen was so lucky to get her, she was so nice, and responsible too, and clever, and would follow instructions. Sophie would be put in bed and would sleep. Azizah would leave the door open and sit in the corner with the reading lamp. Sophie would know she was there and be comforted, and that was that. Helen was walking across the station platform now, she was going to walk because she wanted to walk; it gave her time to think, to just think; clear her brain and think, and everybody rushing around too in the same way, everybody just like here there and everywhere, all roundabout, and bad-mannered too some of them it was like not even seeing people the way they barged past.
She paused by the exit then continued, glad to be outside — and the rain too, it was raining; she hadnt expected the rain, although why not? If it had been raining earlier, why not now? Quite heavy too, and heavier, getting heavier. She had the brolly, and kept walking while bringing it from her bag. People were even sheltering my God it was heavy. She returned the brolly into her bag, headed back to the station, and downstairs to the tube.
Even here the choice. Nothing came like in a straightforward way, decisions always; one tube or two? one with a walk and two with less of a walk. So so busy. People out for the night and going home, and here and there, others. Where they all were going. Hostels. Foreign people went to them, and students, downmarket hotels; DSS places with sheets of cardboard as pretend walls dividing the lodgers and these very heavy guys on the reception and grunting at you; broken locks and windows and dirt, and stains; and some lodgers were elderly people with nowhere else to go; their last resting place my God what kind of life? all their days, and working so hard just to survive and some not able to because not everybody is able, they cant all manage. People cant, they cant; they try and they cant. So where do they go? If that was Brian, that was the life, people are critical and they dont know the situation.