Chapter 1

He felt the hand on his back, a light touch. “‘Scuse me, miss. You wouldn’t buy me a tea would you? I’ve got no money.” He turned, expecting to see some poorly dressed, dirty drug addict, though he’d already noted that she had asked for a cup of tea, not the price of a cup of tea. He was already intending to ask if she wanted milk and sugar; he wouldn’t refuse, it wasn’t in his nature. “Oh, sorry, mister. Never mind.” He smiled, it had happened before. He wasn’t built big, he was (he liked to think) wiry, he had long flowing hair which he held back with a braided hair band when his mother couldn’t see. He also had a light brown beard; from the front there was no mistaking his gender.

“Milk and sugar? Can you make that two teas, please?” he asked back through the serving hatch. There was an outside serving window at the cafe, it was often used for people passing, heading for the trains. The cafe owner grumbled and went to get another cardboard cup of brown stewed tea, it gave the man outside time to look at the girl. She was dressed well, really well. She didn’t look the type to drink tea, let alone have to ask for it. Fifteen, maybe sixteen at most; in a short skirt and muslin shirt which was only partially opaque. Over the top she had a denim jacket. Her boots had wedge heels and came up to her knees. He knew they had probably cost more that the rest of her clothes together; certainly more than his clothes. He was in jeans (clean for a change), and a teeshirt, with his new purchase over the top – a sheepskin flying jacket. It was only a couple of days old so it was still clean and neat; else the girl would never have mistaken him for a woman she could approach.

“Shit!” said the girl, looking down the street. His eyes followed hers and he immediately guessed who she was seeing. In amongst the summer crowds in their light clothing, their teeshirts and cotton dresses, their bright colours and easy going shopping demeanour, there were two men in – what he immediately thought of as – sharp suits. Both were in black and had sun glasses on. Even at 200 metres, he could see that these were well-fitting suits, made to measure probably. Both were wearing ties. They were the only people in suits, the only people in ties except for the old man sitting on the bench down the way (and he wore a tie as a habit because of his generation). “Never mind, doesn’t matter.” she said, and began to move off.

“Go inside ... Umm, sorry to trouble you, we’ve decided to drink in” he said, adding “and we want to order some food.”

“Make your bleedin’ mind up.” said the cafe owner. The girl would have assumed he was a bad tempered, cantankerous old git, but she was used to being ordered around by just such people. The young man was a local, he knew that in South London this was the normal interaction between people. He moved the girl to the door, opened it over her head and ushered her in. The door was to the right of the large plate glass window which had ‘Cosy Cafe’ in an arch at the top and ‘sausage, eggs and chips £3.50’ along the bottom. This was the only advertising the cafe owner had tried. The line of text had been written on several months ago. He thought ‘if people want food and drink, they’ll come in, if they don’t, well sod them.’ He was born and bred in this area, and wasn’t going to change to be some fancy, lah-de-dah restauranteur for anyone, he figured. You eat, you don’t eat. Up to you.

At the far end of the window was another door with frosted glass, this opened onto a staircase to the upstairs. The staircase was boxed in, with a window halfway up, also frosted. A picture of Corfu hung beside the door, it had faded to mostly shades of blue; his wife had put it up fifteen years ago to brighten the place up. The tables along the far side had bench seats with partition backs on them. “Go and sit there, I’ll get the teas.” said the young man, motioning to the first table, sitting on the bench with her back to the window, in the corner, the sloping staircase all but hid her from view. He brought over the teas, put hers against the wall on her side. His, he put on the table and took off his jacket and laid it on the table beside the tea. From the window, it would look like he was the only person sitting there.