The Gentleman and The Tramps

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Helping others leads to wonderful things.
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steamoil
steamoil
78 Followers

I turned away from the grave with tears pouring down my face. My best buddy Ken put an arm round my shoulders and handed me his, thankfully clean, handkerchief. Whomever it was that said men didn't cry was entirely wrong in my case. I teared up at emotional stories. And now I was weeping for my loss. We'd been married for nearly forty years and best of friends. It was doubly hard, because we'd planned a very special fortieth celebration, and I had to cancel. It wasn't that I minded missing it. I minded missing it with her.

Life goes on. I went back to work. I was lucky to have a part time job I loved. I rattled around in the house a bit. It crossed my mind to sell it and move, but was conscious of the received wisdom not to make changes too soon. Most of all, I was lonely in the house.

The life insurance meant that the house was paid for with a substantial sum besides. I'd given away a tithe of it (ten percent), something we'd always done. Some of it went to a charity we'd supported for years that is run by a good friend in a town quite a way from us. It is a town centre coffee shop for mothers and pre-school children. It's deliberately in the bad end of town, and serves not only proper coffee shop coffee, but also dirt cheap instant, as it's aimed at destitute mothers. You probably wouldn't believe some of the things our friend told us. Mums come in and when she asks whether they'd like a drink, they refuse, as otherwise they wouldn't have enough money for food for their evening meal, And in the winter, several of them come in as soon as the coffee shop opens, and leave when it closes so that they're not at home in the cold -- heating's too expensive.

Why have I told you all this? Well, it explains what happened to me about six months later. I was driving home from the airport late after a long business trip. It was a bitter evening, and I had the heater turned right up. As I drove past a bus stop, I saw this dejected looking figure hunched up on the seat with bags at their feet. I'm ashamed to say that I drove on. Well, you know what they say about picking up strangers. But things started bothering me. First I realised that the figure I had seen must be frozen stiff -- no coat. Then I realised that there were no more buses that evening. Then those coffee shop mothers flitted through my brain.

I swore, and turned round. What was the point in supporting my friend's charity helping people in a town far away if I wasn't prepared to put myself out for local people? As I drove back, I was turning over in my mind the best approach. I knew it would be kind of scary to be approached in the dark by a stranger.

I drew up before the bus stop, figuring that it was less intimidating if the car was a way away. As I walked towards the figure, I could see that my approach was causing a certain amount of tension, but the figure remained hunched up. Nearer, I could see long dark hair -- not necessarily female, but likely.

"Excuse me." I stopped several feet away to try to reduce the tension.

"It's OK. I'll move on."

The voice was despairing, and female. I wasn't trying to move her on. She started to get up, and I was shocked and suddenly aware of why she was hunched. She was trying to protect a baby from the cold. Her coat swaddled the baby, and she was shivering.

"Excuse me, miss. I'm not trying to move you on. I'm offering help."

She snorted. "I don't need your kind of help."

I was at a complete loss to understand what she meant. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm not a prostitute. Please leave me and my baby alone." She whispered.

I was shocked. It hadn't even entered my mind that she might think that. "I ... I ... I didn't mean to upset you. I ... well I just wondered if you needed a lift, as there aren't any more buses tonight." I stuttered. "I couldn't leave you out in the cold with no coat." I could see that I'd surprised her.

"Listen, I've got a blanket in the car. If I can't help you in any other way, at least let me give you that."

"You'd give me that?"

"Of course I would. Then at least you'd have a chance to survive and look after your baby."

Very tentatively she asked, "What else would you do if I was prepared to accept your help?"

"Well, I could take you somewhere to find shelter. Or you could use one of my spare rooms and I'd make a hot meal for you."

She blinked at me. "What are you? Some sort of angel?"

"No, just a lonely old man who lives in a big house and wants to help someone in need rather than just driving by."

"I can't believe you're for real, but I'm so fucked that I'm prepared to give it a chance."

I was slightly offended by the swearing, but given her apparent situation, she was right. She got up slowly, and I reached to steady her as she almost fell. Her arm was so cold, I thought she must be numb.

"Let's get you and the baby into the warm car, and I'll come back for the bags."

She really was numb with cold, and I virtually carried her to the car, settling her in the back with her baby. When I came back with her bags, she was shaking so badly her teeth were chattering as the heat warmed some of the numbness.

"Hold on sweetheart, we'll be there in ten minutes." I was appalled, and wondered what had led up to her attempting to find shelter for the night at a bus stop. I was so glad that I'd stopped. I wasn't sure if she'd have survived the night.

When we got home, I carried her bags and my bag in first then, after I'd turned on a few lights and the fire in the sitting room, went back to help her in. I settled her in front of the fire and got my first look at my impulse guest. She was pale, very pale, from the cold, with hectic spots on her cheeks where the car heater had started making an impression. Her hair was lank, she had dark circles under her eyes and looked incredibly vulnerable. It was obvious that she hadn't been able to wash for a few days. There were smudges of dirt on her face and hands, and her clothes were rumpled. But under all that she was obviously a lovely young woman. Fine bone structure, slim figure, although too slim at the moment, and incredibly petite. Suddenly I understood why she had suspected me of hitting on her. With those looks, she'd probably got nothing but. Suddenly I was ashamed of my fellow man. A steely determination built in my heart to help this overburdened soul reclaim her life.

First we saw to the baby's needs. As we went on, I took note of what she might need so that I could buy it when I visited the store tomorrow. Two nappies left. Wipes. Formula milk (I had to get a bit of paper then to note the brand surreptitiously in the kitchen). I wondered why she paid for formula rather than feeding herself. A few moments later I smacked my forehead in stupidity. Of course she couldn't feed the baby -- she wasn't getting enough to eat and drink herself. She had precious few clothes for the baby, so I resolved to buy at least one item until such time as I could persuade her to come with me and choose what she wanted. I also noticed that most of her bags were things for the baby. Virtually nothing for herself.

I didn't have much in the house, having been away, but I did have eggs and cheese. I went back into the sitting room to ask if that would be OK for her, and stopped short with my cheeks flaming. She obviously fed the baby as much as she was able and used formula to supplement her meagre supply. Clever girl. My reddened cheeks came as a result of her baby latched onto the most perfect swell of B-cup I had ever seen in my life. I immediately turned and quietly went back to the kitchen.

When I came back with the omelette and some toast (I always keep a spare loaf in the freezer), she was changing the baby.

"Can I heat some water for Angela's milk please mister?"

What a stupid idiot. I hadn't thought to tell her who I was, or ask for their names.

"I've boiled the kettle for tea or coffee for us. Tell me what to do while you eat this. And my name's James."

"Kate. Tea please. Thank you." She held out her other hand and I shook it.

"Pleased to meet you, Kate, and Angela too."

She proffered Angela's bottle with the other hand, and asked me to fill it to the second line from the top. There was already the correct measure of formula powder in it. When I came back from the kitchen, she was tearing into the omelette, and I deduced that she hadn't eaten properly for some time. I was shaking the bottle, and tried a bit of liquid on the inside of my wrist.

"Still too hot." I commented.

"You've got children, possibly grandchildren?" She asked. When she saw my reaction she apologised profusely and promised not to ask again.

"It's OK. The bad memories are fading. The whole family were in one of the jets that hit the twin towers."

What she said next shocked me to the core. It was only later that I realised she was probably right. "Horrible, but I think it's better than what happened to me." She saw my expression, but just continued to explain. She'd started dating this lovely guy and she'd invited her parents up to meet him. They were in the Pentagon jet. I didn't see how that was worse until she filled in what had happened after that. Her guy had been really sweet, eventually proposing and marrying her. They'd always used protection, but somehow she'd become pregnant. Far from being sweet, he'd turned into a regular monster, telling her how much he didn't want children.

As she continued her story between mouthfuls, I found the milk was the right temperature, and started feeding Angela.

She'd thought he would come round when he saw the baby, but it seemed to make him worse. Then one day when she was coming back from a visit to show Angela off to her work colleagues, she'd found that her key didn't work in the lock of her apartment. His phone said 'number unobtainable', so she'd called a locksmith. When he arrived, he told her it was a high security lock, and he couldn't open it for her or cut her a key without written permission from the person who bought the lock. She couldn't understand it, but went down a couple of blocks to find a room at the local hotel. That's when her world came tumbling down. They wouldn't accept her card. 'No funds' they said. It turned out he'd cleaned her out of all her parents' money, sold the apartment and done a bunk.

She'd crashed with a work colleague for the first couple of nights, but babies and single colleagues you don't know very well just didn't go together, so she'd left. Her lovely husband had moved her away from the area she knew into the city, so she didn't know anyone else really. James had found her on her third night. After the first horrendous night where she couldn't quite believe she'd survived intact, she'd learnt to choose bus shelters in quieter districts She was at her wits end, with no money left and waiting for her Gran to get back from a cruise in a couple of weeks.

I said two words and shocked myself. "Fucking bastard."

It made Kate laugh. She was even more beautiful when she laughed.

"I realised that when my parents died, they still loved me, and it wasn't their choice to leave. When someone rejects you, chooses not to be with you, and takes you to the cleaners in the process, it hurts so much more. I know I'm probably well rid of him, but it still hurts."

"Listen, while I feed Angela, why don't you go and shower and change into clean clothes."

She blushed adorably. "I really haven't got any."

I grinned at her. "You've got three choices. See what's in my wife's wardrobe, although it will all be too big; use a t-shirt of mine; or use a bathrobe while your clothes are in the washing machine. I'd show you, but I think Angela might object. Just explore upstairs until you find what you need. Choose any room to make your own."

I could see the tears pour down her face as she choked out "Thank you." and quickly turned to hide the tears. "Won't your wife be asleep?"

"She died six months ago. I'm on my own." I could see the flush mounting up the back of her neck. "Don't worry -- you weren't to know." Kate fled up the stairs still crying, presumably unable to speak or take any more emotion.

Angela grumbled as I stopped her sucking to burp her mid-feed. As I paced up and down jiggling Angela, I wondered if there was anything I could do to get her parents' money back for her. It was much too late to do anything now, but I filed a note to myself to ring a lawyer friend of mine, Ken, who might have some clue whether it was possible.

After a few really satisfactory burps, I settled down to give the rest of the bottle to Angela. She was sweet with her little hands reaching for the bottle, and I felt eyelids drooping after my long day and the emotion of Kate's story.

"James. JAMES." Kate's voice penetrated my doze and I felt her trying to take Angela from me. "I need to bath Angela and get to bed."

I jerked awake. "Sorry. Of course." Opening my eyes was definitely a mistake. She'd chosen one of my t-shirts, and even in that baggy garment that came down to her knees, she was drop dead gorgeous with her wet hair off her face in a pony tail, and wonderful legs and feet poking out of the bottom of my t-shirt. I envied it. I let go of Angela.

"Can you tell me where the washer is?"

"Don't worry -- you deal with Angela, and I'll put the clothes in the washer. I expect you'll want to add Angela's to them as well." Actually I had an ulterior motive -- I needed to know her size to get her one more outfit when I bought the baby stuff. "Oh, and while you're bathing her, I'll get the cot out."

"You have a cot?" Surprise showed on her face.

I grinned at her. "It's actually really old. My child and my grandchildren all used it." Surprisingly, it didn't hurt so much knowing it was going to be used again. A sort of adopted grandchild, perhaps?

Kate's face was serious. "Thank you so much. It will be a privilege to use it."

We went upstairs and I got a laundry basket from my room. Kate had started running a bath for Angela, and put the bundle of clothes she's left in the bathroom in the basket, adding Angela's as she stripped them off.

Downstairs, I wrote the sizes down on my list. I couldn't believe how small the dress size was and checked it twice. She really was petite. Shoes -- damn! I slipped upstairs, hoping I had a few seconds to get the size before Angela was finished in the bath. A quick look in all the rooms and I found the few things Kate had in one. Fortunately, the shoe size was embossed on the sole. Again, I was amazed at the small size of her feet.

To cover my need to peek at the shoes, I dragged the cot into the room she had chosen. Then I tapped on the open bathroom door. "Do you want the cost in your room, or one next door?"

"I know this sounds silly, but I want her near me. So many times in the last few days I thought I would lose her. It would make me feel more comfortable."

"That's what I thought. I've already put it in your room with a clean cot sheet. What do you want to put over her?"

"I don't have her sleep suit, so a quilt, if you have a spare?"

"Consider it done." I went and fetched a quilt and cover, and added a sleep suit to my list.

I went into my room and showered and changed. It was now really late. When I came out, I went downstairs to get a drink, and found Kate waiting for me.

"I can't thank you enough..."

I held up my hand. "Please -- it was nothing. I'm so glad to have you in the house. I've really minded being on my own."

She smiled at me and nodded.

"Just so you know. If I'm not here in the morning, I need to go out shopping as there's no food in the house. So don't worry, and help yourself to whatever you need. I've got a spare key, which I'll leave out for you, and the back door key is hanging by the back door if you want to go outside with Angela."

"Thank you." She threw her arms round me and gave me a huge hug. I have to say, it warmed my heart.

I woke briefly in the night hearing Angela whimper, and I figured Kate was feeding her. The whimpers didn't last long, so I drifted back off.

In the morning, I was up late for me, but still before Kate. She'd obviously had precious little sleep over the last few days, not to mention the emotional trauma, so I was glad.

Trailing round the shops, I suddenly realised I had a purpose again, and I was enjoying myself. I gave my fellow shoppers a bit of a surprise when I laughed out loud for the joy of it. It was fun shopping for Kate and Angela. I realised again how petite Angela was when I had to buy children's clothes and shoes to fit her. I don't suppose what I bought was particularly suitable, but it would help until I could persuade her to spend my money on some things she chose.

When I got back, Kate was feeding Angela again. In some ways having a good sleep had made her look worse. She told me she felt exhausted, and I suggested she went back to bed if Angela would sleep. They did. That left me free to ring Ken.

Like me, Ken was appalled at what Kate's husband had done. He offered to get her a divorce for free, and said he would have a word with a couple of people he knew who might also help. I was well satisfied with that. I knew the kind of contacts he had as a lawyer and I was pretty sure he would get some answers.

As I was musing on my new found energy, I realised that I still had either one or two spare bedrooms, depending on whether Kate wanted Angela to sleep in a different room eventually. I wondered how I could find others to help. It gave me a new direction and a new buzz. I resolved to ask Kate later.

When she came back down, she was looking worried. "I've run out of formula and clothes. I'm so sorry -- I don't have any more money. Please would you let me have enough for that?" She was almost in tears, obviously hating having to ask.

"Ah. I bought a few things for you when I got food this morning, but I forgot to tell you when I came back. They're over there."

Kate thanked me profusely and walked over to the bags. "These can't all be for me?" She was incredulous. When she realised what I'd bought she fell to her knees on the floor and sobbed.

I jumped up and went over, putting an arm around her shoulders. "It's OK. It's not as if I can't afford it. I'm pleased to be able to help. It's given me a new purpose and cheered me up enormously."

Kate gave me a watery smile and choked out, "Thank you so much." Then she turned and hugged me hard. We both fell over in a heap on the floor. "So I buy you a couple of things and you knock me over?" I hadn't laughed so much in ages. "Seriously, you are very welcome."

As we got up, she looked me in the eye. "It's so sweet of you, and they're all the right sizes too. Thank you."

"One of the benefits of doing your washing!" I grinned. "Later when you're settled, we need to go out together so you can choose some more clothes for yourself. I'm not very good at women's styles."

The next few days were interesting, to say the least. I felt I had gained the daughter I never had, and a new grandchild. Kate had a few ideas about who might need help. She was especially concerned about a young Hispanic woman who had helped her on her first night to fend off the countless men hitting on her. She had also advised Kate to go to a quieter neighbourhood to avoid it all. Her name was Estelle, and during the long night they had exchanged confidences. Of the few people she had interacted with, Estelle had an underlying honesty and compassion. That and the fact that her parents had died leaving her alone in the world made Kate warm to her.

There were tears in Kate's eyes as she related the few things she knew about Estelle. Her parents had died much younger, and Estelle had to fend for herself. She'd managed to keep clean and out of trouble until her 18th birthday. Then her landlord had hit on her, and she'd had to flee the building to escape. She'd managed to find a job with an older couple who ran a convenience store. There was a room above the store that she was able to rent for a large part of her wages, and they'd also protected her from the endless stream of men.

steamoil
steamoil
78 Followers