By Hazel Moran

Hi! Are you okay? You look cold.

It was a miserable day. Not quite raining, but you could feel the

water hanging in the air, almost at tipping point. She was sitting

on cold stone steps, huddled against a cold stone wall, how could

she be anything else other than cold.

She ignored me. Her eyes ignored me. But she was acutely aware

of me. I could feel her watching me with every aspect of her

being ... except her eyes. I could feel the wild creature inside

ready to scream, fight, run, if I stepped too close.

We have food if you’re hungry. In the van just at the top of the

hill, over here ... I raised my arm, pointing back up the steps to

some vague place of no apparent interest.

More and more children and young people were showing up in

places like this. Cold places like this underpass, or the

surrounding derelict, boarded up houses and shops. Cold, bone

cold. An all-pervasive, oxygen sucking stink of urine and

excrement. As though the misery of the place demanded it. Fear.

Anger. Desperation. A place that would remain grey on the

brightest of days. Grey. Cold. Miserable. Or maybe I was just

imagining it.

Would you like someone to walk home with you? The question

sounded potentially pervy, even to me. I stepped back, choosing

to sit on the step below her, leaning back against the opposite

wall.

She looked at me, then down at Paddie, my dog. Paddie wagged

her tail and shone bright happy eyes at the girl. The bright happy

eyes of a Golden Retriever, who can resist that?! Their eyes

locked. She seemed to recognise the dog but only from the very

deep recesses of her mind. Their gaze held for just a moment

before the girl turned back to face ... the nothingness, the

emptiness, in front of her.

I sat quietly, not wanting to leave her alone. Feeling awkward.

Not knowing what to say.

A man suddenly appeared at the other end of the underpass. He

staggered towards us, falling against the wall, propelled forward

with each collision. He looked drunk. I felt a shift in the girl. Her

eyes had fixed on him. Her physical body remained motionless

and yet everything about her had come to life. Her eyes,

previously dull and withdrawn, were alive. Her entire being felt ...

turbo-charged... fixed on this man.

He was speaking but was inaudible. His speech was slurred,

difficult to understand. I felt revulsion rise in me as he stopped

and leant forward as if to vomit. No vomit. Instead, he took a

deep breath, stood up straight, then launched himself forward,

continuing his ungainly, agonisingly slow progress in our

direction.

Two small children appeared in the light behind the man. Two

little girls of about five or six. Laughing. Pushing and pulling at

each other. Oblivious to the sight or smell of the place.

And then a woman. The place had gone from empty and lifeless to full in moments.

The woman looked well dressed. Strangely well dressed. She

looked as though she had just stepped out of a 1950s magazine.

She wore very practical brown brogues, a fastened to the neck

and belted beige macintosh, a red head scarf neatly tied under

her chin, and crimson lipstick. She also wore dark glasses which,

though rather sophisticated on her, were at odds with the

miserable day and dank dark underpass. It also struck me as odd

that I could see so much detail on someone so far away and in

such a dismal place.

I was so absorbed in the appearance of the woman I had failed to

notice the progress of the man who now lurched up in front of

me. As I stood rather abruptly to let him pass, he stopped and

smiled. For a moment I was confused. There was no smell of

alcohol. The man was clean-shaven, well-groomed and

surprisingly well dressed for someone who had spent a large part

of his journey through the underpass bashing up against a dirty

wall. Although his movements were jerky and uncoordinated his

smile was radiant.

The two small girls had arrived and were hugging a very

appreciative cuddly dog. As I looked from the man to the girls

the woman appeared beside us, and the girl was now standing.

The woman signed “hello’’ to the girl. The girl smiled. She smiled

at the woman, at the girls, at the man and then ... at me. My heart

almost exploded. She had the most light filled smile I had ever

seen!

The girl took the man’s left hand as one of the smaller girls joined

them on his right. The other small child slipped a hand into the

woman’s left hand and the woman, the woman in the beautiful

red scarf, gracefully flicked open the unseen folded cane she held

in her right hand.

Together they nodded farewell, first to me and then to Paddie.

Then, together, they seemed to take a collective deep breath

before moving off, as one, into what had been a miserable day, in

a miserable place.

Paddie and I watched them go. Me, awestruck. Paddie, smiling

and waving her tail in a glorious farewell.

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