Very late on King's Cross, rank full, decided to pull away, confronted with traffic lights red against me . Post Office Vans flying along Euston road as if there were no tomorrow and no speed limit. Interminably red , looked, as always at the Bank corner opposite , looked, making my quick appraisal of the nights offering, looked to see if a different face was standing back in the shadows. Certainly, a different face, not standing in the shadows, showing right out, feet in the street! Never seen her before. Black, the most enormous mass of hair.. tiny. Suddenly all the weariness dropped off me, wide awake. Lights yellow, green, crossed , she in the back so quick... half way down Judd street before deciding to do the negotiating. Too compliant. obviously new, very new to the whole situation.. her first night, it turned out.. Seventeen years old.
"Back to the flat" with a difference. none of this "Money First", "In a hurry to depart". Money not mentioned.. Talked, drank coffee. Told me the usual story of beatings, her one year old child how "He" threatened to throw it out of the window. How She had taken the child away to Birmingham and not seen it since.. not anything different. The difference being her looks and intelligence
It became a regularity.. Caroline and I meeting on the "Cross". Would meet her very late after she had done a couple of tricks. Hardly know what the attraction was for her, yet she became quite put out if I did not show, did not hang it up along the side of the station somewhere.. hands of the clock pointing towards one a.m.. the hands of St. Pancras opposite usually about fifteen minutes behind. Would give me a look if I was chatting to other female faces of the night.. come straight up jump in the back. Occasionally, Bernie parked up right behind me, ostensibly reading the first edition of the day's papers, knew bloody well he was only watching my moves. Would not acknowledge his existence. He was fascinated by Caroline.. unusual.. a sparrow.. Drive off into the first of the morning.. leaving the turmoil rapidly behind. Only when we were finally in bed did she discuss herself, her problems.. Never stayed overnight for her own reasons. If we overslept, beyond 4.a.m. then there were big problems with traffic by the time I had her back through the Tunnel dropped her off, turned it round.. another day over.
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Simply never stopped talking. Took off her clothes, quite casually. Lay, relaxed, naked on the bed, expectant.. without the slightest touch of inhibition, that we were strangers, as if always having been together. A unusual experience, unlooked for.. a waste of time thinking about such a occurrence, happening between two people, light years apart in every aspect. The fact I could, conceivably been her grandfather in no way the slightest impediment to what was to develop into a quite deep understanding.
Finished up, five a.m. somewhere parked in the Wilds of Woolwich, dawn light drifting across the Thames, ships moving silently down to the sea on the dark tide.
As yet, few lorries rumbling on the distant motorway. Birds awake, about, singing quite clearly in the soft morning air.
That first parting, delicate. Held her hand, slowly letting go as she pulled back towards the Tower Block rearing up into the half night, waving until she disappeared, a shadow, momentarily, on a high balcony..
Came back to reality with a jolt. Waking from yet another dream. Sharp reminder of the traffic which by now had built up to horrendous proportions shunting and groaning its way back through the Blackwall Tunnel.
Suddenly tired.
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