Chapter 1

She sat in the shop doorway with her dog and her recorder. The tunes she played were barely recognisable, but people put money on the ground in front of her out of kindness.

"Hello! What's your dog's name?"

"Sam."

"Is Sam hungry?"

"Probably!"

"How about you?" the man asked. She shrugged her shoulders.

"There's a café just around the corner," he said, "suppose I go and get you and Sam something!"

She nodded. He came back after twenty minutes carrying a bag.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

Once again she shrugged her shoulders. He took two large disposable drinks containers out of the bag and handed one to her.

"It's tea. Do you want sugar?"

She nodded and he put several packets in her hand, together with a plastic spoon. He then took something wrapped in metal foil out of the bag.

"I didn't think to ask ... I hope you eat meat!"

She nodded and he handed her what he had in his hand. He took out another one, unwrapped it, opened the bread roll and broke off a piece of sausage, which he fed to Sam, who ate it eagerly. He sat and fed Sam the rest of the roll. The woman, meanwhile, had eaten hers.

"Another?" he asked her.

"Please!" she replied.

He handed her another foil-wrapped parcel, then he fed another to Sam. Then he drank his tea. He took a small notebook out of his pocket and wrote something on it.

"I'm not being funny," he said, " ... but you do read?"

"Yes."

"Do you know this street?" She nodded.

"Well if you and Sam don't have anywhere to sleep tonight, this is my address," he said, " ... No strings ... and I'm not a perv! It's your choice!" He stood up to go.

" ... Thanks for the food!" He smiled and walked away.

The doorbell rang and she was standing there. Sam wagged his tail when he recognised his benefactor.

"Hi! Come in! My name's John, by the way ... John Neill."

"Jo ... it's really Siobhan, but I couldn't say it when I was little, so I chose Jo, and it stuck!"

"Would you like some tea, Jo? Come into the kitchen!"

Jo followed him and sat on a chair at the table: Sam laid on the floor at her feet. John put some water in a dish and put it down for Sam, who looked up at him with big, brown eyes. John made the tea and brought it over. He sat opposite Jo.

"How long have you had Sam, Jo?"

"I'm not sure exactly ... quite a while ... I inherited him."

"And what about you? How long have you lived on the streets?"

"A couple of years."

"And what's that ... a Manchester accent?" She nodded.

"Yeah, Salford."

"I've been to Salford: it's supposed to be a lot better than it was once!"

"Aye! But it's still shite! Can I ask you a question, John?"

" ... Why am I doing this?" he said.

"Aye! Do you make a habit of picking up down and outs off the streets?"

"No ... you're the first! Well, I'm a writer, Jo, so I do strange things! I haven't lived here long, but every time I've been in town I've seen you and Sam in that same doorway, and I was curious! Another reason is that I spent a little while living like that myself while I researched a book ... I know it's not the same, because I could give it up when it got too tough, but it did give me a bit of an insight. I've been cold and hungry, and I have had drunks pissing on me for laughs!"

"I'm sorry, John! But most people just drop a few pence on the ground and think they've made a big difference to my life!" He smiled in appreciation.

"Shall I show you your room now, Jo? You can just sleep if you like, but you're welcome to come down again, if you want to! Is there anything that you'd like to put in the washing machine, while you're here?"

"Maybe! And is it okay if Sam sleeps with me ... it's what he's used to!"

John showed her to one of the spare bedrooms.

"There are towels in the cupboard if you want a bath, and this door locks. Don't forget ... come down if you're hungry, or you want to chat!"