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'Are you homeless?' she asked.
'Not exactly, no. I mean, we are for a few weeks. We're cycling to Scotland without
spending any money.'
'Oh. Ok. What sort of sandwiches do you like?'
'That's very kind of you, but we're not expecting people to buy us sandwiches. We
thought people might have food that they don't want or are going to throw away,' I said,
secretly delighted by the prospect of a sandwich.
'WellI'mgoingintoGreggstogetmylunch,andI'mhappytogetyoubothasandwich.
What do you like?'
'Aww, thank you,' said Ben. 'We'll eat absolutely anything. Whatever's cheapest.'
She returned with two packs of sandwiches (one ham and one cheese, in case you were
wondering) and a loaf of bread.
'There you go. They said you could have this loaf of bread, too, as they were going to
throw it out.'
'Thank you,' I said, 'that's really kind. What's your name?'
'Susan,' she said. 'Well you both seem like a couple of really nice boys, and I definitely
believe that niceness brings about niceness. Good luck with the rest of your journey.'
BeforeeatingthesandwicheswetriedarenditionofSilentNightinGermanthatIcould
still remember from primary school. A guy on a bmx, in his mid thirties, approached with
a small paper bag from Greggs.
'Hi guys. You can have these two donuts if you promise to stop singing.'
'You've got yourself a deal. Thanks, mate,' I said.
Toby, the BMX man, was a really interesting guy. He was on a half-hour break between
histwodifferentjobs.Heworkedinafactoryinthemorning,andarestaurantallafternoon
and evening. He was trying to save money to convert a room in his house into a recording
studio. Ben, being a musician with a home-studio, stood and talked for ages about mixers
and 8-tracks, condenser mics and digital samplers. I stood nodding enthusiastically for as
long as I could, before leaving them to it and skulking off to sit on the steps of the museum
that lines one edge of the market square. Unfortunately, it wasn't the Maritime Museum,
otherwise I would have been in like a shot.
Ben joined me after a while and we tucked into the sandwiches. We were soon ap-
proached by a strange looking teenager with a mess of bright blonde hair, school blazer,
untucked shirt and a half-undone tie. He was about 17 and was flanked by a couple of gig-
gling teenage girls. He stood there with a huge grin across his face and a carrier bag in his
right hand.
'We were eavesdropping on your conversation a few minutes ago,' said the boy, with a
slightly camp, posh northern accent. 'We've bought you a bag full of food and stuff, but
there's a condition.'
'Errr… ok,' I said.
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