He has wasted weeks, including a couple of nights, at Paddington and Charing Cross stations, trying to spread out the hunt so that it was safer, and remaining wary of CCTV cameras, knowing exactly how far away from the stations he needed to be before he was in the clear. He knew it was imperative that he never created any suspicion, but it’s been frustrating.
And so tonight, he was returning to his old hunting ground. But with one new added dimension: saving the cash required to be allowed into Euston station’s First Class Lounge, via the cheapest ticket he could purchase.
Choosing a table with a complete view of the station’s concourse below the bay window, he helped himself to a free coffee and a pastry. Wearing rimless glasses, a black hoodie with jeans and sneakers, and carrying a non-descript canvas haversack, to all intents and purposes he appeared to be a university graduate. Sitting with his back to the rest of the lounge, he was relieved that it was virtually empty. From his position he could watch passengers coming and going, and all the train departures and arrivals were on screens clearly visible from his position. Taking out his mobile phone, he appeared to be concentrating on messages and texting, while in reality, his concentration was on Platform 1, awaiting the arrival of a train from Liverpool Lime Street. This had been very productive on previous occasions.
Finishing his coffee, he took an old takeaway coffee beaker from his haversack in readiness, as the arriving passengers began to stream out onto the station’s concourse. Surrounded by cafés and fast-food stalls, newsagents and book shops, his focus was directed on the passengers with their trollies and wheelie suitcases. As groups of family and friends waited outside the platform’s exit gate, he began to feel very agitated that after all his planning it looked as if he was out of luck.
The last straggling passengers had walked out of the exit gate when his antenna kicked into action. She was very petite, with blonde hair worn in a thick twisted knot. Wearing a short mini skirt with rubber-soled ankle boots and a cheap parka puffa jacket. Over her shoulder she had a large dirty white canvas bag with wide straps and what looked like a sleeping bag wrapped around with straps. He would have to learn quickly if she was meeting up with friends, intending to camp out somewhere with them. She seemed disorientated, standing by the exit gate as the grille was drawn closed. Looking around, she headed towards one of the empty seats available for passengers and paused by a stand offering various tourist attractions and free tube maps. Picking one out, she turned to look over towards the sign for the exit down to the tube trains, then concentrated on reading the tube station map.
From the First Class Lounge it took only a few minutes for him to walk across the concourse towards her. Prepared in advance was the takeaway coffee beaker, and as he made the last few steps towards her, he jolted forwards, virtually into her arms. To any casual onlooker it would look like a friend hugging her.
‘I am so sorry, goodness, here let me mop this mess up.’
He had spilt the cold watery coffee from his beaker over her canvas bag, and quickly took out some tissues from his pocket to dab at the stain. She was much younger than he had first thought, a teenager with bad acne and bitten fingernails.
‘It’s alright, didn’t get any over me.’ She had a strong Northern accent.
He gently dabbed at the stain on her canvas bag. ‘I don’t think I’ve done too much damage, but I was hurrying for the tube station. Are you catching a train?’
‘No, I’ve only just arrived. Don’t worry about me bag, honestly.’
‘Well, I’ve probably missed the train I was hurrying to get, so can I buy you a coffee? Or are you waiting for someone?’
‘No, I’m on me own. I’ve never been to London before. In fact I was just checking out the tube station. Never been on one of them either.’
She gave a nervous laugh, then checked the stain on her bag. ‘It’s not too bad, so thanks.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Heather.’
‘Well, I apologise, Heather. If you like I can walk you down to the tube. Whereabouts are you heading?’
Almost without any hesitation they began to walk towards the exit for the tube station. He’d picked up her sleeping bag by the strap, insisting he carry it for her, at the same time asking where she was staying. He had played out this routine so many times and knew his next moves would be eventually getting her onto the tube near to where he lived, then offering her not just a coffee but stopping off for a hamburger. It would not be too difficult to subsequently offer her a place to stay. Only once before had his instinct failed.
Heading down to the tube station it was imperative that he give her no hint of interest that might alarm her. It was important that he gained her trust. She was intending to go to Piccadilly Circus, telling him that she had been told by a friend that she might find her there, or over at the Embankment.
When he offered to accompany her and look for her friend, Heather appeared quite relieved. She was concerned that her old flip-top mobile might need to be charged as she had hoped to do it on the train but didn’t have the right lead. By the time they had alighted at Piccadilly it was after ten, and they sat by the Eros Statue for a while before Heather started to become fretful. He looked at his own mobile, checking the time as if concerned about getting home, but at the same time saying he was worried about leaving her on her own, even though there were a lot of tourists around. He asked her if she had any other contacts, suggesting that perhaps he could call them for her on his mobile. She started chewing at her nails and shaking her head.
The offer of a hamburger and fries with a milk shake made her hesitate, even telling him that she should be the one offering as he had been so helpful. He didn’t insist but said he was definitely hungry. He knew a cheap place they could get a burger from a street stand. It was important that by now he knew she had very little money, but there was one element he needed to find out before he wasted any more time.
They walked up Shaftesbury Avenue as the theatres spilled out their audiences. Already there were a few homeless people taking up their positions outside the empty theatre exits. He watched Heather looking towards one young man and he bent down towards her and whispered that he was glad he was not in that position as it was very risky sleeping rough.
The stall was close to the Shaftesbury Theatre, and sometimes there were other market stalls selling mostly tourist items. After they stood side by side eating their burgers, he gained the last important fact. She didn’t explain it right away, but eventually, she said she might have been stupid but she could not take any more tirades from her stepfather, describing him as a bully and how her mother was afraid of him.
‘I’ve run away. I mean not for the first time – I done it a few times before – but they always got me back. This is as far as I ever come before.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Fourteen, nearly fifteen.’
He wiped his mouth with the paper napkin that had been wrapped around his burger. He was pleased with himself. He had been right: she was perfect. He was beginning to really like her, anticipating that it could be a few weeks or even more, depending on how she turned out. He doubted that she had even been reported missing yet.
It took a little persuasion to get her to accept a room for the night, saying that it would just be until she made contact with her friend.
She looked dubious, chewing at her bitten nails again. Then she crumpled the ketchup-stained napkin into a ball and tossed it into the waste bin by the side of the stall.
‘Are you sure? I don’t know if I should.’
‘I don’t want you to think I’m coming on to you in any way, Heather. I just really need to get back as I have to do some studying and be up early in the morning. It’s only a small box room, and you might have to use your sleeping bag, but you’ll be safe until you decide what you’re going to do next.’
‘Do you live far away?’
‘Two tube stops then a change and we’re there.’
She smiled, hitched her canvas bag onto her shoulder as he picked up the strap wrapped around her sleeping bag. ‘Are you coming?’
‘This is really kind of you; I really appreciate it, thanks ever so much.’
They disappeared, heading towards Leicester Square tube station. Just another ordinary looking young couple stopping as he pointed out the hanging lanterns as they passed the entrance to China Town.
Nothing gave any hint of the horror that would come.