A very distressed-looking middle-aged man was sitting in the platform 2 waiting-room while three policemen stood over him with the nonchalant grace of the young, strong and fit. Their Greek god beauty took my breath away, but their intentions were entirely benign. They’d found him drunk and asleep on the train and since he had nowhere to go, they were waiting for an ambulance, which I guess would transport him back (hopefully) into the social safety net. In the meantime they listened patiently to him rave and at one point took him round the back of the waiting room and help him upright while he had a pee.(Were they humiliated or unfazed by this small necessary service, I wonder? ) I’ve often seen police caring for life’s casualties, buying food for junkies etc and its oddly confronting to my left-wing preconceptions.
Another homeless man who got off the train didn’t see this scene as benign. Galvanized into memoir, he sat down on his shopping trolley and started writing in a notebook in big red letters. When I peeped over his shoulder, he was writing about being bashed and in between that describing the other people on the platform. A less structured version of what I’m doing now.
After everyone had gone, I went over to Platform 2 to tidy away the drunk’s bottle and was startled to discover he’d been drinking our favourite medium priced Cab Sav.