The Shadows in the Street Read Free Page A

mother was with her on and off, when she wasn’t locked up or drunk in a ditch somewhere.
    Footsteps.
    ‘Abi? Yes, I thought so. Abi and … who’s that … ?’
    ‘Marie.’
    The girls glanced at one another. They didn’t mind Les. But he wanted to stand and chat and that put off any punters driving down.
    ‘Hiya.’
    ‘Come here, nearer the gate.’
    They followed him to where there was a bollard by the turn-in to the factory. He had his usual canvas satchel, plastic bags of sandwiches, the chocolate bars, the flask of coffee.
    ‘Cold for you tonight,’ he said, unwrapping the packets. ‘Too cold to be out on the streets.’
    ‘Yeah, yeah. Thanks anyway.’
    Abi wasn’t hungry but the coffee was OK, still quite hot, and she took a couple of bites of the chocolate, before putting the rest in her pocket to take home.
    ‘That’s a good bit of cake.’ Marie was scoffing the food down as if she hadn’t eaten all day, which, Abi thought, she probably hadn’t. She was thin as a rake, bony-thin. She smoked instead of eating. She stuffed another half of ham and bread into her mouth.
    He’d been coming out like this for the best part of a year. He just turned up, brought the food and the flask, chatted a bit about nothing. She’d wanted to ask him why he did it but had never bothered. He wasn’t one of the Reachout lot, wasn’t Sally Army or any other Church, so far as she knew, and besides, he never preached at them, never mentioned anything like Jesus. He chatted about the weather and asked them if they were all right, asked after anybody who hadn’t been out for a while. Once, when he knew one of the girls who’d used to come was ill, he’d offered to get her a medical appointment, take her to the hospital. She hadn’t gone and the next week the word was out that she was dead of an overdose. Les had asked about her but they hadn’t told him anything.
    Just lately, he’d been coming out a couple of nights a week. Hayley had seen him as well.
    ‘I thought you’d be nearer town. Bit warmer, bit more shelter.’
    Abi shrugged.
    ‘Safer as well.’
    ‘We’re all right. We look out for each other.’
    They could never quite decide if he was OK or not. He wasn’t weird. He wasn’t anything. All the same …
    One of the girls had asked him if he was looking for payment in kind but Leslie had been horrified. He’d jumped in his car and driven off fast, leaving the flask behind on a bench, and nobody had seen him for a couple of weeks after that.
    ‘Say what you like,’ Hayley had said, ‘not normal.’
    Only he seemed normal, watching them eat the sandwiches he’d made for them, pocket the chocolate bars he’d bought out of his own money, finish off the hot tea or coffee. He had a normal coat, normal trousers, normal blue wool scarf. Normal black shoes. Normal. He was clean, he shaved, he hadn’t got anything special about him or anything peculiar either. Just normal.
    Only not.
    Abi handed back the plastic cup. ‘Thanks.’
    Not normal. How could it be?
    ‘Oh, Christ.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I remembered I have to get tea bags. I’ve got to go to the all-night. Fuck it.’
    A car turned round the corner.
    Marie walked quickly away, sensing it would stop further down. Abi swore.
    ‘Cheers, Les,’ she said, and went, not wanting to mess around there keeping him company or whatever and waste the rest of the night. She hadn’t even earned the money to pay for the tea bags yet.
    But as she got to the top of the street, a car came off the main road and flashed its lights at her.
    Her last punter dropped Abi off by the printworks just after midnight. Things had got a lot busier, she had more money than she’d expected, but that was it, she’d had enough. She’d always had enough, had enough before she started out, but it wasn’t going to be forever. That was what kept her going. Knowing it wasn’t going to be forever. Four years. You could put up with anything for four years. Or if she did really