CHAPTER THREE - Unscheduled Journey

It was Sunday morning in mid-December. Jon was still working at Lyons, but the tension was rising between him and the superintendent. He sat in the cold sun in St Jamess Park watching the ducks, they looked tattered and forlorn. Although he was hungry he felt at peace with the world. The leather coat with detachable lining that he had bought from Oxfam kept him warm.

Decent old girl, that one who sold me my coat. Brought the price down too. Spare trousers as well, good and warm they are, and the gloves and scarf. All for an extra pound. Means more for me to carry round. Never mind, I can always wear them all! Would look a sight. can't go on long with that damned superintendent. I see all that I despise in him.

Now what am I going to speak about this afternoon? Must have a think. The last few Sundays have been easy just getting the crowd interested in everyday events. Want to get them used to seeing me. Several of them seem to wait for me to come. Angry people too, some of them. Wonder whats made them like that.

The crowds were small that Sunday at Speakers Corner, so Jon waited hoping that more would arrive during the afternoon.

Soon he stood on his box and began to speak. "I've been talking to these good people just now," he said pointing to part of the crowd, " and there seems a sense of anxiety, sometimes of purposelessness. Most of you lead a comfortable life with adequate money and many too many possessions."

"Dont your be telling me wot I should ave and wot I shouldnt. None of your business," shouted an angry voice.

Jon took no notice. He continued, "How many of you have bought something you dont really need because your neighbour has it? How many have traded in a perfectly good car and bought a bigger and more powerful one, and so giving yourselves a feeling of one-up-manship?"

"Worse than a bleedin sermon," the same voice interrupted.

Regardless, Jon continued. I've done it myself, its part of human nature to be greedy. Dont we all use as much water as we want without thinking where it comes from?. Dont we all use paper and all that is made from wood without a thought of the trees, trees that could be performing their natural function if they werent felled to supply millions of books, papers and magazines for millions of people.? I'm sure you've been harangued about this through television, through the newspapers, and from charities."

There were nods from the crowd. "You bet we have," came a voice from the far edges. "What are you on about?"

"This is what I'm on about," retorted Jon. "I'm not going on talking about things that the medias do. Thats for those who make money out of telling you. I am going to talk about just you and me, individuals sometimes seemingly of no importance, but who are really the most important thing of all."

There was a pause, and into the silence a quieter voice murmured, "Come on tell us. Why are we so important?" Jon pronounced his words slowly, "There are no actions inside yourselves superior to harmony, for all the energy converted in unity spells liberation. Do not be afraid to broaden the meaning of relationship even if it means flowing against current ideas. Refuse the options that in hurt and misery add to the obsenity of living." Jon watched carefully to see if the change of style in his language was being well received. The crowd looked interested. "In resolving discord, increase your awareness, so that with unity the value of all experience will be heightened, and those fortunate enough to come within your path will reflect a hope and gladness, and those unfortunate enough to have limits placed by themselves on life, will through your presence realise their limits were less than the truth."

The crowd remained silent, save for one elderly man who muttered loudly, "Not heard stuff like this before. Seems hes got a bit of sense."

Again Jon took no notice of the interruption. "May you all live in harmony for the rest of your lives, and be able to know what it means to love and be loved in this hungry world. May you stay resurgent as the vital grass which blooms regardless of the devious demands upon it. Just BE." He paused again. "And where ever you are be at home, be at home even just within yourselves."

The crowd gradually moved away, more quietly than usual as if contemplating the words they had just heard, words very different from the political or religious exhortations that they usually received. Jon was hungry for he had not eaten any food all day. He had existed on tea and cigarettes.

Going to have a jolly good blow-out. Feel a bit of a devil. Havent touched that money yet in the bank, my paltry earnings off the Boxing Booth . Fancy a lad of fifteen saving money and keeping it till my age! Little it may be, but its all I've got. Left the rest behind, glad I did though. Won't use my bit, but I'll keep it for emergencies. Still got some left over in my pocket. Must cut down on the beer, that costs a bit too much. But where am I to go and sit these dark evenings? Pubs are the only place for the likes of me with no roof of my own. They are a kind of sitting room for me, and I enjoy meeting a lot of different people. Perhaps theyll remember some of the things I say. Must stand a round or two, can't always be on the receiving end. Like hell, Im hungry. Could eat a cart horse. Takes me back to my days in the prison camps. 250 calories a day for three months. That got a bit of getting used to. But I managed it. I'll manage this lot too. I'm not being beaten by the guards like I was then. Damned if I'm going to be brow beaten by that runt of a supervisor. Going to chuck it in to-morrow.

With this decision to leave the job at Lyons firmly made, Jon entered the Black Boy in Victoria Street. He sat by himself at a table by the window where he could watch the door, and ordered a bottle of stout and a plate of sausages, chips and cabbage.

Always like to see whos coming in and going out. Must have an escape route for myself. God, how good it smells when you're hungry. Im watering at the mouth like a blooming dog! At least I can't look too scruffy and can't be smelling or these dames wouldnt have joined me.

Two middle aged women in head scarves came and sat at his table, Jon moved up to make more space. The two women talked across the table to each other, mouths full or empty they went on talking. They took no notice of Jon, who ate his meal in silence, cleaning the plate with an extra piece of bread. He ordered a second bottle of stout, and lent back. As the two women were smoking he did the same without asking. He was alone, but not lonely. Again he was at peace with himself.

He left at closing time, and went in the side entrance of Victoria Station. It was very empty, and Jon felt he might be conspicious if he looked purposeless. He went straight to the gents toilet, peed, and had a hurried wash. He liked to clean his teeth as often as he could. As he came out of the toilets he saw one of the three men, one of his friends who had given him tea several weeks ago.

"Hello, sir," the station worker called. "Remember me? What ave you bin up to?"

"I've been going here and there." There was a pause. Then Jon decided to try his luck. "Any ideas?"

The worker knew what Jon was implying. "The furthest one over there," and he gave a tiny nod with his head and moved off. "See you again," he said softly.

"Thanks chum," said Jon under his breath. The worker could see what Jon needed and wanted, he was an ally. Jon wanted a sleep for the night on a train where he wouldnt be disturbed. Great care had to be taken crossing the large station area, the station police had a habit of popping around at unscheduled times. Jon kept in the shadows moving slowly a bit at a time. He reached the train and moved slowly along it. There was no one about. He came to the first class carriages, which were near the front of the train next to the mail van. They were beautifully warm, and he lay full length on the wide seat, taking care to keep his feet off the fabric. He rolled a cigarette, bending low to light it to make sure the flame of the match did not show out of the window.

Im trespassing, thats what I'm doing. Hell, what does it matter? Im not hurting anyone, I'm not going to vandalise anything. I just want to keep warm, and get off my feet, Like a blinking first class hotel this is. All I need now is a pillow, and some music and it would be like the Ritz. Its a long time ago since I spent a night there. My! What a turn around. Must watch these feet of mine. Swelling up too much. Never had that before cept in that darned camp. Couldnt get me boots on then, all swollen up I was. Those clogs they gave me instead. I must have looked a sight, but they were warm enough when I wrapped my feet in paper. S'ppose I'm standing up too long every day. Wonder why all these memories are coming back to me? Those memories of being a prisoner. Havent thought about it for ages. Damn, I'm not alone.

At that moment of his ruminations, Jon saw a shadow slip passed the corridor window. He hid his cigarette in the cup of his hand. Then the door opened.

"ullo, Guv. Been watching yer for some time. Can I cum in? Im on the same side as yer, yer know. Followed yer up across station, 0*+++ all along train, and yer never saw me."

Into the carriage came a tiny man, with the brightest black eyes Jon had ever seen. He seemed like a busy restless bird, with a beaklike nose that poked into everything. He pulled out a half bottle of whiskey, took a swig and handed the remains over to Jon.

"Thanks, mate," said Jon, choking slightly over a large gulp. "Come and sit down. Why have you been watching me?" He handed back the bottle.

"Seen yer in the Park, talkin to all those people. Seen yer on the Underground, Circle line going round and round, seen yer in the other Park watching them ducks. Got a lot o time on yer ands, 'avent yer? Whats it all bout, Guv, trying to change the world? Never nicked from you, Oi avent. Thought yer be one of us." The little man talked in a steady stream, so Jon butted in.

"I mind my own business, thats what I do." The little man laughed. "But I dont like things as they are, I dont like the way the rich feed off the poor, I dont like the way the Government members line their own pockets while dishing out paltry sums for those in need, I dont like people having to live in fear of bombs, and I dont like it when ordinary people, that doesnt include a whipper-snapper like you," again the little man chuckled, Jon repeated himself, "when ordinary people can't walk the streets safely, and I dont like the affect all this drug taking is having.

"Those are some of the things I dont like, and that I'm trying to change. And as I'm not going round throwing bombs or shooting people all I can do is talk and persuade. Thats what I'm doing, and I'm trying to do it round the clock whenever the opportunity arises, and mark you, the occasions arise at most peculiar times and in peculiar placs. Now, is that enough? And what is it that you say you do? I dont for one minute xpect you to tell me the truth, but never mind. You seem to have time enough on your hands, and you appear to have money in your pocket. That coat of yours must have cost a mint."

"Well, Guv, Oid be in the nick for a ninety-nine year stretch if Oid bin caught for all the things Oive took. Good trade it is. But yer safe, Guv. Yer safe. Won't take from yer. Yer be one of us now, Guv. Loike yer style. Coming to ear yer speak next Sunday. Wish there were more loike yer. Them folks that listen to yer seem to want more. can't make yer out meself. WHere's money in it? My last copper went on Magic Jo on the two thirty at Newbury. Fell two from the front, and he were leading. Bet jockey was told not to let him win. Now Oim skint."

Jon stretched himself out again, hoping the little man would take a hint that it was sleep he wanted, not talk. The little man took the hint and slipped out of the carriage closing the door, his soft shoes made noise at all. "See yer, Guv. See yer to-morra."

Me, one of them? Do I really look like that? A thief? Why, I've never stolen from anyone. Hope I dont see him to-morrow. But in a way, I like his cheekiness.

Jon closed his eyes and sleep rolled over him like an anaesthetic aided by the whiskey and the warm carriage. He slept so deeply that he did not feel the train starting to move. He only woke when it was light, a soft light of early dawn. He sat up with a start, and looked out of the window.

Thats Guilford Cathedral, I'm damn sure thats Guilford Cathedral. Were probably heading for Portsmouth. And I havent got a ticket, and Im jolly well not going to pay for a return journey that I dont even want. Got to use my wits now. Must pee first, thats top priority.

He opened the door, and saw no one. He walked along the corridor, head up, carrying his bag as if he was a legitimate passenger. He passed by the mail-van and looked in. There he saw the little man, the thief, his visitor of last night, rummaging amongst the mail bags. There was a half opened parcel on the floor.

Jon called out, "What ARE you up to?"

"Dont yer loike it, Guv?"

"I bloody well do not." Jon answered tersely. "You could get both our collars felt if you're caught." He turned away, but as he did so he saw the thief open the window and toss out the half opened parcel. Early though it was Jon managed to perform both his functions in the first class toilet, and he had a scrape of a shave. It took about ten minutes. Then he walked back along the corridor. In the first of the compartments he saw the thief.

"Come in, Guv, come in. We've got to look slippy to get out o this lot. Reckon we 'op out at 'avant, track side, and 'ope no one is looking. No good getting all the way to Portsmouth. If yer act proper we might be taken for track workers."

"Not in that coat, you wont," interjected Jon. "Well, hung for a sheep as for a lamb, were breaking the law already, might as well do as you say." He had a sneaking liking for the thiefs audacity, and he was starting to enjoy flaunting the fringes of authority.

"Make sure yer shut the door behind yer," advised the thief.

"Know your way about, dont you? Done this before, havent you?" The thief winked, he didnt reply to the questions.

"Its best Oi move to nother compartment. Two doors is easier to get out of than one." He disappeared along the corridor.

The train drew slowly in to Havant station. Jon looked outside, preparing for a jump, but to his surprise he saw a train already in the other platform, the London train.

This is too good to be true. Wow, this could be dangerous. What would happen if the London train started as I was midway between the two trains. What if I couldnt open the London train door in time? Here goes, its now or never.