The Real Me - Chapter 16

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She wandered onwards, ever northwards in this great city. She came to Berkeley Square and found a shady garden. The noise of the city permeated the green foliage but it was another little oasis in the cityscape. She found a bench and sat in the dappled sunlight beneath the London Plane trees. The occupant on the other end of the bench finished reading his newspaper and moved off.

Dannie felt dead on her feet. Her head hurt more than ever. She placed her pack as a pillow and laid it out on the bench. She carefully arranged her mini skirt and found there was no safe way of lying without showing all. She took her thin summer windcheater and spread that over her legs. Birds twittered, sparrows came right beneath where she lay and she was asleep in seconds, mentally and physically exhausted. She awakened feeling cold.

The weather had changed she thought. The whole ambiance of the Square had changed. There was less traffic circulating, and fewer people. She looked about. Two ladies walked a dog. A man, down and out by the look of the battered bundle he had at his feet, occupied a bench. More dog walkers passed through. She sat up. Her flesh had formed depressions where she had lain on the seat slats. She felt dazed but at least her headache had gone.

She badly needed to brush her teeth. She made sure she had all her possessions. Her little handbag was safe in her pack. She looked at her watch. She was surprised to find it was nearing eight o’clock. She tried to work things out. It must be evening, she had slept on that uncomfortable bench, hardly moving for nine, ten hours. It was evening. The sun had disappeared from the square except where beams touched the rooftops on the Eastern side. She felt panic.

The night was approaching and she had nowhere to go. She needed a toilet too, considered squatting in the bushes but decided they did not form enough of a cover and there were too many people about. She took out her comb and combed her hair using the tiny mirror Rachel had placed as an essential in her handbag.

There was no public loo in sight. She shouldered her pack and left the garden, hoping to see a sign for a toilet or a pub she could dodge into or McDonald’s, somewhere. She couldn’t wait. She passed an office, saw a lady sitting at a desk in the foyer, and pushed on the door. To her amazement, the door opened automatically with a swish and she entered. She went to the desk and the lady looked up at her. ‘Yes?’ the lady said. ‘Please, I’m just desperate for a toilet.’ She thought the girl was going to chuck her out and then her face softened. ‘Show me what’s in your pack?’

Dannie placed the pack on the desk and the girl opened it cautiously and rummaged inside. ‘OK. Just across there. I’ll give you ten minutes, then you need to be on your way.’ ‘Thanks, miss,’ Dannie said, took her pack, and headed for the ladies. She found it was just as plush as the foyer had been, black and white tiles, nice soap, proper toilet paper, not that thin cheap stuff, and it bore an emblem and script, Arbuthnot Jenkins Financial. The towels were fresh, white cotton with the same motif. She found there was a recess and investigated, and found there was a shower.

Did she dare use that? She used the lavatory first, relieved, so relieved she gasped almost with joy. She washed her hands. She would love a shower but the lady had said ten minutes, she must already have used three or four. She dropped her pack on the tiles and made her way out into the foyer. ‘Please miss. Could I use the shower?’ ‘I gave you ten minutes. You already had five.’ The girl was surprised to see the child’s face crumple, and saw Dannie’s eyes mist and fill. ‘Hey kid,’ she said. ‘Don’t do that, no tears.

That shower is for the girls that cycle or run to work or run in their lunch hour. They bring their own towels.’ Dannie stood, gradually regaining control. She turned to return to the washroom to collect her pack. ‘Wait. What’s your name?’ ‘Dannie, Daniella.’ ‘Well Daniella, this once and once only.’ She took a vast bunch of keys from her belt and went to a cupboard that was invisible except for the keyhole, covered in the same marble effect stuff as the walls of this impressive hallway. She opened the door and took out a large clean monogrammed towel.

She held it out. ‘Here Daniella, this is a one-off. Have your shower. You will find there’s a little cupboard in there that has a hair dryer, to the left of the washbasins. You will find some products in the cupboard in there, things the staff have left. Help yourself, to everything but this is a one-off. You understand? This is an office of high-flying people, not a doss house.’ ‘Thank you, Miss.’ Dannie said. She took the towel and returned to the bathroom.

She took a change of bra and panties from her pack and put them ready on the black and gold chair. She undressed in the shower cubicle. And placed her clothes, and threw them, onto the chair. She investigated the shelf full of products left behind, mostly nearly empty. She found something called Balmain Shampoo and a matching conditioner, both nearly empty, but they looked expensive and the name rang a bell.

They smelled nice and she used them. She used the liquid soap in the shower dispenser to wash her body, luxuriating in the stream of warm clean water. Reluctantly, she finished and the extractor fan continued whirring while she dressed in clean undies and a clean top. She dried her hair and it didn’t look too bad, in fact, had a nice wave in it.

She made her face, disguising the bruise on her forehead as best she could. She looked at her reflection and a smiling girl looked back. It was so glorious to be clean. She looked about, saw a bin, and opened it, found there were other towels. She put the towel inside. She packed all her things and went back into the foyer. The lady looked up. ‘Better?’ ‘Yes, so much. I can’t thank you enough.’ ‘Where’s the towel?’ ‘I placed it in the bin with the others.’ ‘You haven’t left that place in a mess?’

‘No. I cleaned up. I mean there was some steam but I used the towel to clean the mirror.’ ‘OK kid, just if the janitor finds too much mess in there, he complains.’

‘Oh.’ Dannie lingered. ‘Sit down Daniella. So, what’s happening?’ ‘What?’ ‘How old are you? Not old enough to be on the loose in this City.’ ‘Sixteen Miss.’ She repeated the same lie. ‘Don’t call me to miss. I’m just the night guard, come receptionist, not one of the high-powered arseholes that work here. Sixteen? I don’t think so. Why aren’t you home?’ ‘Because Dad’s there and he beat me up.’ ‘That explains the bruise. Go home kid, go to the police and report him.’ ‘If I do that, Mum will be on me.’ ‘Have you anyone?’

‘Rachel, my sister, but she’s gone to America.’ ‘Look I’d like to help, but I look after security here. I can’t move from this desk except for nature's call and then I lock the outer door. Where are you going now?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘OK. Have you eaten?’ ‘No. I haven’t been hungry.’ ‘When did you last eat something?’ ‘A bun at six this morning.’ ‘What have you been doing all day?’

‘I wandered up from Victoria and slept nine hours in the park across the road.’ ‘You poor kid. Cleaned up, you look nice, you have manners. OK, one-off, three blocks away, there’s a McDonald’s. Go buy yourself something and then come back here. I’ll let you stay the night. I leave at seven tomorrow and you will too. You have got money?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Get cracking then. Buy yourself a cheeseburger or something. You have arms and legs like sticks. You can leave that pack.

Here, I’ll stow it under the desk.’ Dannie hands across the pack and puts her windcheater on. She goes to the door. ‘Which way?’ she asks. ‘Out of the door, right and then right again, cross three streets and it’s on the corner.’ ‘Thanks,’ Dannie replied.

Dannie walked, she felt better than she had any time over the last thirty hours. She bought a double cheeseburger and chips, and a Belgian choc iced frappe. She added a carton of milk. She had spent more than intended but felt revived, she had an appetite. She returned to her refuge. She pushed the door and found it locked. She immediately panicked, thinking the lady had deceived her, then she saw her come out of the bathroom and return to her desk. Dannie tried the door again and it slid open. ‘Come and sit kid.’ Dannie unpacked her McDonald’s bag. ‘That’s a lot of shit food you got there but that should all keep you going.’

‘I bought a lot.’ Dannie said. ‘I can see.’ ‘Help yourself to fries.’ Dannie invited. ‘Just one or two. I don’t like McDonald's a lot. Look, if my boss comes, you are my little cousin and you missed your bus home, OK.’ ‘Yes, cousin. I don’t even know your name?’ ‘Gabby. Gabrielle.’ Somehow the evening passed. Midnight came and went.

Gabby went on her rounds, making Dannie stay in the bathroom in case her supervisor appeared. Dannie settled into one of the plush black leather seats and slept. When she was nudged awake, it was daylight outside. ‘OK kid. Go freshen up in the ladies and then I have to throw you out.’ Dannie did as she was bidden. She returned to find people already entering, showing passes, and taking the lift. ‘OK?’ Gabby asked. ‘Yes, thanks Gabby.’ She hoisted her pack. ‘Well bye, Daniella. Good luck. Go home, go to the police. There’s protection out there.’

Dannie wandered aimlessly, crossing Regent Street, entered some Chinese gates, and found she was like in Chinatown, with Chinese shops and restaurants. For no reason, she turned a corner and walked away from the sun, seeing a few trees in what she thought must be another square.

She passed a pub that said ‘washer-up wanted’. She looked at the pub sign. ‘The Belle of Soho Square, the pub sign is gold on a black background. She walked on, then stopped. She considered, her fears fighting her need to make some money and get food. Surely working in a pub, even in the kitchen, especially the kitchen, she would at least get food, leftovers, and access to a loo and washing facilities. She could do that, wash up.

She did it at home. How difficult could that be, a few glasses and a bit of crockery? She hesitated, scared she would be laughed at, scared that just looking at her, people would see Daniel the runaway, the underage kid who should be in school under the laws of the United Kingdom that keep her in school till eighteen. Daniel the transvestite boy. She returned to her wall and sat, trying to pluck up courage. While she sat, someone else could be seizing the opportunity. How many job opportunities would she find? She hurried back the hundred or so meters to the pub.

She pushed on the door and walked in. Her heart beat wildly and her mouth was dry. The pub's interior was dark and smelly. It was her first time in a pub other than to pass through to use the toilets. In the past, her father would sit in at the bar, or rather lean against it, yarning, boasting, drinking pint after pint, followed by a chaser of scotch, while his wife, Rachel, and Dannie would sit in the garden with cokes. Mum might have a gin and tonic and make it last. Dannie did not like pubs.

Her father was full of bonhomie until he reached his limit, then he was a nasty drunk. His family would return home without him, sit and dread his return, for nothing would be right. His dinner taken from the oven would hit the wall, the plate shattering. Mother would be cursed, Daniel, unless he’d had the sense to stay out of sight, would receive a blow if he came within swinging distance.

The only person safe, was Rachel, the apple of her father’s eye. She could do no wrong, not that she ever did; not that any of them ever did. The smell brought back memories, bad ones. ‘Yes kid,’ the barman said, looking up from polishing the countertop. ‘I can wash up.’ She said. ‘See the manager, girlie. Through that door at the back, room on the right.’ Dannie walked through the dim interior, pushed on the door, and walked through, letting the door slowly close behind her. She had entered an even dimmer hallway, one small naked bulb that looked as if it has been varnished gives some light from the ceiling. She could smell cooking. A door to the right stood ajar. She took another deep breath and knocked. The door was pulled open and she was face to face with a man of she reckoned, thirty-something. ‘What can I do for you?’

He said, looking down upon her from the cubbyhole that served as his office. Space was obviously at a premium. ‘The job, washing up.’ ‘No, gone. Is that notice still there? Well, we got someone.’ ‘Oh,’ A crestfallen Dannie replied. She felt defeated. ‘Can you do waitressing? Let’s look at yer. Do a twirl.’ She turned slowly, wondering. ‘Skinny kid ain’t yer. No hips, skinny bum. The face is OK. Smile.’ Dannie looked puzzled. She didn’t smile, she was terrified of this man giving her orders. ‘Smile girl. Show me your best smile. That may be your greatest asset.

Give me a smile, customers like a few things, a nice arse, round hips, big tits, and a nice smile. So far you score nil. Smile!’ She smiled. ‘Well getting better. How would you smile if someone offered you a twenty as a tip?’

Dannie’s face lit up. ‘That’s the smile customers want to see, not the face of a crab or a frightened kid. Understand?’ ‘Yes sir.’ ‘Polite isn’t yer. That’s another point in your favor. Look, we serve food to workers, fast because they don’t have long lunches. They want food and want it quick. It’s called service, service with a smile. The punters are paying for it.

They come in here for a drink, company, a chat, food, someone nice to serve them, a smile, maybe a few sweet words. If they slap your skinny rump or try to pinch it, I don’t want to hear a complaint. It happens, get over it. It ain’t rape. Now, do you want a job?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘How old are you?’ ‘Sixteen.’ ‘Why aren’t you in school?’ She says nothing. ‘Well?’ he asks. ‘Dad gave me a thrashing.’ ‘Oh, a runaway. Well, I started work at sixteen, and so did Lord Sugar and Richard Branson.

Why don’t you go home?’ ‘I’d be murdered.’ ‘I see.’ He leaned in and sniffs her. She stepped back. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I was seeing how you smell. I don’t think you are on drugs. Show me your arms. No, you daft kid, the underneath where they all stick needles. Oh, clean. And you smell clean, nice. I’ll give you a chance. It’s simple. Customers order food at the bar. Every table has a number. You go to the kitchen and pick up the plate and take it to the table that has that number.

You ask who is having the fish or salad or chicken or whatever and put the plate down, with a smile. You act nice, as though you like these punters. They are paying and if they are happy, they leave a tip, slip you a five or a ten perhaps. You can do that?’ ‘Yes sir.’ ‘I’m not your schoolmaster. I’m Lenny. You are?’ ‘Daniella.’ ‘Right. Lunch. They start coming in at twelve. Then it’s really busy for an hour and a half, then it’s clearing up after the madness.

Done by three, three thirty, back at five-thirty for the evening rush. OK?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Yes, what?’ She stared at him. ‘Please?’ She ventures. ‘No. Yes, Lenny.’ ‘Oh, yes Lenny.’ ‘Good girl. Be clean, be smart, be pleasant. Got that?’ ‘Yes, Lenny.’ ‘Come in the kitchen, and I’ll introduce you. They’ll find you something to do.’ He pushed her before him, through a swing door. ‘Jock,’ he said to a man in chef’s whites behind a counter, ‘new waitress, Daniella.’ Jock looked at her.

He had a cleaver in his hand and is engaged in cutting chops from a half carcass. ‘Recruiting kids now?’ He said with a thick Scottish accent. The smile Dannie had for him, faded. ‘I’m sixteen.’ She said, repeating the lie. ‘Are yer? None of my business, just when I call away, make sure you’re here sharpish. I don’t send out cold food or old food. Treat me right and I see you right.’ Two lads, busy behind Jock gave Dannie the once over, and somehow Jock sensed it.

‘Stay clear of them two,’ Jock commanded, ‘a couple of idiots and not the sorts for a kid like you.’ He turned and shook the cleaver at them. ‘Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.’ The ‘Idiots’ acted like idiots, making noises and boy giggling. ‘Show her the ropes, Jock.’ ‘I’ve got better things to do than nursemaid a kid.  Where’s Julie, she should be in here by now?’

‘Dentist. She’ll be here.’ Lenny replied. Jock frowned. ‘Badrick, get over here.’ The smiling black boy came to the counter. ‘Show this kid what she has to do.” More giggles from the two sous chefs. ‘Now listen, Badrick and Monte, cut it out or you’ll be getting your cards. You’re getting on my nerves.’ Lenny departed. ‘Where can I leave my bag Jock?’ Dannie asked shyly. ‘In that cupboard.

Do you have a white top to put on?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘OK then when you’re out there, black skirt like you got and white top. Best wear tights too in case anyone up-skirts you.’ ‘Up-skirts?’ ‘Yeah, taking a photo up your skirt. Don’t you know about that?’ ‘No.’ Dannie is blushing, at the same time feeling terrified that anyone should do that to her and see what shouldn’t be there.

‘Come little girl, let me show you the ropes.’ Badrick showed her where to stack the plates, how to do the simple starters, like prawn cocktail and the anchovy platter, a few fresh anchovies taken from the basin in the fridge, lettuce, and a quarter of a tomato. She also did the sandwiches, that were bought in, a choice of beef, ham salad, or Coronation chicken.

Everything else was done by the two boys and Jock, some home-cooked but most of the pies and Currys were bought in and shoved through the microwave. Badrick showed her the walk-in fridge where meat, fruit, and prepared foods were stored in polythene containers. Badrick pulled the door closed, saying, ‘Need to keep the cold in and the heat out.’ He brushed against her, his breath misting in the chilled air, his face just inches from her face.

Dannie felt herself blushing to be this close to a boy. He grinned. ‘Frightened little girl?’ he asked with a thick Estuary accent. ‘Cut it out, or I’ll tell Jock.’ She said. ‘Just a kiss, on the cheek, here.’ He pointed to his cheek. She didn’t understand why she obeyed but as she did, he turned his head and they were lips to lips. She drew back and slapped him, moving to the door.

She pushed on the knob and was out. He followed, giggling. Her face glowed with fright and embarrassment. Her mind was in a whirl. It was bad enough trying to remember what her duties were without a loony boy playing silly tricks. She thought she would never remember it all. When Badrick finished, Jock told her to go into the pub and the tiny beer garden and remember the table numbers and their positions. It was good to be out of the heat of the kitchen and away from a couple of idiot boys.