The luxury of a bed with sheets and pillows was now a foreign experience to me. Hard pavements and doorways had become the norm for me in recent months. After a few hours of tossing and turning, I ended up sleeping on the floor. It might have been hard but after wrapping myself in the luxurious duvet, I managed to get some sleep. The underfloor heating was a new experience for me. It helped me relax and get some shuteye.

As normal, I woke well before first light. At this time of year that is around 06:30. It is also the time that the town starts to come alive. If you have your wits about you, is it always good to get going before people start arriving at their own place of work. If your pitch for the night happens to be a doorway that business people wanted to use, you could often get a kick or two before you got out of their way.

After the last beating I took in early September, my ribs are still rather sore so the early morning kicking was something that I wanted to avoid at least between Monday and Saturday.

I crept out of my bedroom into a silent flat. Jennifer seemed to be still fast asleep. I collected my now washed and dried clothes and returned to my bedroom. After packing my rucksack, I stripped the bed and left the slightly soiled linen on the floor in the utility room.

My last task before leaving was to write a short note of thanks. Being on the streets has robbed me of almost all my dignity, but being polite and thankful was not one of them.

“Jennifer,
Thanks for the hospitality. I am an early riser so I hope that you don’t mind me leaving before you are up and about. Last night was a welcome change from a cold hard doorway so many, many thanks.
I hope that one day, I can return the favour. Yes, I know it is a long shot but it is my way of saying, ‘I owe you one’ even if you are the police.

Craig.”

I left it next to the coffee maker and as quietly as I could I left the flat and the building.

There had been a frost the previous night which made me even more thankful for being in the warm for once. The clear sky indicated that it was going to be a cold crisp late autumn/early winter’s day. I felt that I could do with a bit of a change in scenery so I headed out of town following the track of an old railway that had been turned into a cycle path some years before. I’d been this way many times since I’d become homeless.

As it was a weekday, the only other users of the path were dog walkers and a couple of joggers. They generally kept their distance from the likes of me which suited me perfectly especially those with canine companions. Dogs and I had never really gotten along.

Thanks to a relatively full stomach, I was able to make good time and had covered almost six miles before the autumnal sun started to warm my back. The old railway line ran through a tunnel which was where I’d last been beaten up.

After overcoming my nerves, I almost ran through the tunnel. Thankfully, there was no one about and I made it to the far end without incident. Not long afterwards, the path runs along the top of an embankment. It is very overgrown here and not very easy going. The lateness of the season meant that most of the nettles had died back so being thankful for small mercies, I carried on along the embankment instead of taking the long way down through the fields and over the main road and up the side of the next hill before I'd re-join the path.

The overgrowth was relatively thin where the main road passed underneath in a small tunnel so I stopped and sat in the sun for a while and ate the energy bar that the people at the 'Sally Anne' food truck had given me two days before. After washing it down with some water, I carried on along the path. My destination was just two miles away. There was a barn that was filled with straw. Thanks to a fellow ‘traveller’, who had made a hole in a wooden wall, there was a space inside for a person to sleep in relative warmth. A nearby chicken farm could be relied upon to give someone a day or so’s work in return for food and a little money. Clearing out a chicken shed is not most people’s idea of fun but I enjoyed the activity and they made sure that you were always well fed at the end of the day.

I cautiously approached the barn in the hope that no other 'traveller' was already in residence in the hidey-hole. Luckily, it was empty. There were signs that someone had been there recently but had not been there for several days. A previous occupant had left a welcome present in the shape of some excrement just inside the entrance. I guessed that it would keep the foxes away but I cleared it away and settled in for the night.

As dusk approached, I began to think back to the encounter with Jennifer the previous day. As much as I liked the attention, I felt that I could not trust her. She hadn't blinked or reacted in any way when I told her that I was toxic to everyone around me. That fact alone should have made me bail out then even if it meant leaving most of my clothes behind but I didn't. I'd just have to be more careful in the future. Like most homeless people, we regarded the Police as the enemy. They had their jobs to do and that was mostly to move us on in the hope that we became someone else’s problem. Being roughly woken up at four in the morning is not a way to make friends.

---

[one week later]

My temporary home had served me well for the past week. I’d been warm and dry despite the deluge that fell from the sky almost all day, every day. I’d been working at the Chicken Farm as ‘John Smith’ helping the owner Tom Mackay prepare his free-range chicken sheds for the next batch of young birds that were due in a week. Tom was a good boss. If you worked hard and had fun doing it, he was a happy camper. He paid me with a combination of three meals a day, a place to keep clean and get my washing done as well as £5.00 an hour. Adding it all up, it was about the minimum wage but I was happy with some money lodged inside my boot.

I kept it there just to make it harder to be robbed. People like me didn't 'flash the cash' without getting a beating for doing so.
I could have stayed on at the farm but I limited my time there to a week. Any longer than that and he might have had to get official with the records and that was the last thing I wanted to happen. It wasn't only out for my own self-preservation but his as well. He understood my reticence about staying longer. He was clear that because I was a good worker, I would be welcome back anytime. That was nice to know and I’d felt reasonably good with myself for a few days after that.

After a final breakfast at the farm, I headed back towards town along the old railway track hoping that my attackers from September were not waiting for me.

When I crossed the embankment, I saw a black Audi Q7 parked at the entrance to the field. I couldn't see anyone around but I wasn't going to take any chances so I retraced my steps for half a mile or so and took a public footpath that led off to the east. If it had been a muddy farm vehicle then I would not have bothered but this was very much a townie's car. The total absence of mud and grime on the outside made it stand out like a sore thumb in these parts.

From bitter experience, the country folk are far more tolerant to the likes of me than townies. Country folk know that we are passing through and won’t stay long. Townies assume that we are going to blot their bit of the landscape and thus reduce the sale price of their precious homes. A good number of verbal exchanges with townies had probably jaded my opinion of townies especially when out in the countryside. Many of them have very aggressive dogs that in my worthless opinion, need to have never been born in the first place. Many of my fellow travellers have the scars to prove their encounters with those beasts. So far, I’ve been lucky.

---

Many of us homeless folk use the Public Library when the weather is bad. Following the incident earlier in the year, I'd spent some time planning an alternative route back to town. I had to hope that I could remember enough of it to enable me to get there before nightfall.

I missed one vital turning so it was close to 8 pm when I arrived in the centre of town. After buying myself something to eat and drink from a corner shop I went in search of somewhere to sleep. All my usual pitches were taken so I ended up heading for the old railway station. The place was now a museum at the end of a small preserved railway. With luck, one of the carriages that were stored there would provide me with a place to sleep for the night.

My luck was in and I stretched out on a bench seat inside my sleeping bag. I was dry and relatively warm. All seemed good as I fell asleep.

---

The next morning, I left the carriage early to avoid any chance of being found. I made sure that I left no sign of my visit as I might want to use it again.

I headed for the main road and a roadside van that mainly catered for Truck drivers and bought myself a coffee and a bacon roll. It was nice to get some hot food and liquid inside me again.

With some food in my stomach, I wandered back into town and found my usual bench by the river and watched people going about their business. It was kindly therapeutic. As it was market day, there were far more shoppers out and about even if it was cold and dank. Then I smelt it. I knew instinctively that she was behind me.

“Why don’t you sit down Jennifer?” I said without turning around.

I heard a sigh from behind me. That told me that I was right.

Jennifer came and sat down beside me.

"You don't need to wear so much perfume you know. Opium has a strong scent."

Jennifer laughed.
“What if I said that I did it deliberately?”

“Then I’d say that you were lying.”

“You are… correct. You are a hard person to find you know.”

"I've been out of town doing some casual work. I wasn't advertising my whereabouts on a roadside billboard you know. I told you that some people who don't like me around. I could be in more danger if they see me talking to you…"

“I don’t want to put you in any danger you must know that?”

I could see that this wasn’t going to go very far so I changed the subject.

“Didn’t you get my note?”

“I did but why? Why did you leave like that?”

It was my turn to sigh.

"Didn't you hear what I said about me being toxic? Anyone who tries to help me ends up regretting it big time. Ok, it might not be right away but they do. That's why I keep a very low profile. By doing that and staying off the booze has allowed me to survive this long. The last thing I want is to inflict my troubles on others. Please Jennifer: for your own sake get the hell out of my life. For your own personal safety, please find some other way to take my wife down but honestly, you have no idea what and whom you are dealing with. That’s all I’m going to say on the subject.”

I didn’t wait for her to respond. Instead, I picked up my pack and headed out of town. At least I was mostly alone in the countryside.

Anyone watching what just happened would think that I’m running away from the problem. I can’t run away from the problem because, in my mind, I am the problem.

In my angered state, I went the wrong way and ended up on the wrong side of town. I thought about going back but I saw a footpath sign about half a mile away so I bit the bullet and went that way. This path was not one I’d used before. It didn’t matter really. As long as I got away from the middle of the town I really didn’t care.

The houses soon gave way to the countryside again and I was able to relax a little bit. I convinced myself that going in a new direction would keep ‘them’ off my back. That was good. The bad was that the rain started coming down as if there was no tomorrow. I spotted a wood one field off the road and my luck was in, a footpath ran off in that direction. That was all I needed. I put my head down and left the road behind me.

The woodland offered some shelter from the rain but most of the leaf cover had already fallen so it only delayed my soaking. I carried on walking through the woodland towards the edge of the woodland. Gradually, the shape of a structure materialised. I hoped that it would provide some shelter.

Luck was with me and the structure turned out to be a hide. I’d stumbled upon a nature reserve. I have vague memories of the thing being opened some years before but we hadn’t ever visited it so it soon slipped my memory. To my eternal relief, the hide was empty and most importantly dry. Perfect.

Once I was settled into my new accommodation, I had the chance to reflect on what had happened that day. Why was Jennifer so interested in me? I would be next to useless in giving recent information that could enable a successful case against 'her'. Deep down I had this feeling that any information that I could give them could come back to haunt me thanks to her manipulation of the stupid ignorant fool that I once was.

I didn't believe a word the story that she'd told me about my wife reneging on a contract at the NEC. As far as I knew, her primary business was in recruitment and there was no reason for her to have anything to do with an exhibition or whatever going on at the NEC. Something about her story smelled to high heaven. Being that she was the Police, she might have had a good reason to tell me a porky-pie but I hated being taken for a fool or worse. I might be on the streets but I still have a working brain.

The mystery was no closer to being solved by the time I fell asleep.

Dawn was just breaking when I woke up. The wind had gotten up during the night which had caused me to put my dirty clothes over the bottom of the nearest door to the hide to stop at least some of the draft but otherwise, it had been a good night. The people who had built the hide did a really good job with the place. I made a mental note to use this place again in the future. There were many worse places to sleep.

Then I heard a noise. At first, I wondered if it was a rat or something. That didn’t last very long as the smell of coffee reached my nostrils. I sat up with a jerk and found Jennifer smiling at me from the other end of the hide.

"You are a very sound sleeper," she said.

“What the hell are you doing here? Can’t you understand that I’m not a person you want to be associated with?”

“I know all that but there are greater powers at play here,” said Jennifer as she got up from where she was sitting and approached me with paper cups of coffee in her hands.

“Here, take on before it gets cold.”

Grudgingly, I took the cup from her. The contents were not that hot but welcome all the same.

“Thanks,” I said once I’d finished the drink.
“But why are you really here? Who are these ‘greater powers’?”

Jennifer smiled as she reached into her pocket and showed me a Police ID. Until then, I’d had to take her word for it.

“You are actually a real cop then?”

“You told me that I was but until now, I never confirmed the fact that I really am a cop. Detective Chief Inspector Jennifer Watts at your service.”

Those few words completely deflated me.
“I guess that you are here to arrest me for multiple counts of fraud and even worse?”

Jennifer laughed.
“That’s the last thing I am going to do. We are not dumb. We can see when someone is being stitched up.”

“Really? Somehow, I have my doubts.”

Then I had an idea.

“Do you know why I chose that particular bench to sit on by the river?”

Jennifer thought for a moment before shaking her head.

“It is because ‘her’ office is just on the other side of the river. She can see me from her desk. Despite her taking out a court order that prohibits me from coming within 100m of her, I can sit there knowing that I’m only 50m from her desk. A judge said that as long as there was a river between us, there was no danger of me giving her a beating which is what I was accused of. The same goes for her charge of stalking. For the record, I've never laid a finger on her nor have I stalked her. There is just no point in trying to argue the toss. She has money for lawyers and I don't.”

Jennifer didn’t move.
“I’m probably guilty of all manner of nefarious crimes. Or rather the evidence that you have before you M’lady shows clearly that I’m guilty and should be sent down for at least ten years. If you think that I’m being sarcastic then I am. Being made homeless and every time I manage to get a job that might get me off the streets, I get slapped down again big time. The last time was over in Shrewsbury, where a 'tip-off' accused me of being a child molester. The time before that it was that I was dealing in child porn. Naturally, no evidence was produced but it was enough to get me shown the door right there and then. Since then, I've worked a bit but off the books, casual like.”

I put the empty cup down on the nearby bench and stood up.

“Time for me to do the perp-walk as they say on US TV shows. I’m guilty as charged.”

“You haven’t been charged yet?”

“Give it time Detective Chief Inspector, give it time.”

“I’m not so sure but I would like you to come with me to York which is where I’m based. I’m part of a serious crime task force. As I said, there are bigger forces at play here. ‘She’ as you put it is just one of the people we are going after. I had my doubts about how genuine you were but seeing you up to your neck in chicken droppings convinced me that you are not the criminal mastermind that the local Police seem to think you are. My guess is that ‘she’ has tainted the waters with her claims against you.”

She let that sink in for a moment.

“Shall we go? My Sergeant has a car waiting for us back on the main road.”

“Why do you want me? I know very little.”

"You would be surprised at how much relevant information you have picked up. Why not get a roof over your head, three meals a day and help us to get even with her?"

"It seems from here that know very little about her business," I argued.

“Until we pool our knowledge, we won’t know who is telling the truth will we?”

“This roof over my head? I take it that will be in the cells?”

Jennifer shook her head.

“No. There is a fairly decent hotel almost next to where my unit is based. For security reasons, we keep out operations well away from local police buildings. If they did a search on my car, it would show that it is leased to a company in Southampton who deals with container shipping. When you are investigating serious and organised crime, it pays to keep a low profile.”

“Ok, I’ll come but reluctantly.”

“Understood.”

I packed my things and we walked back through the wood to the main road. I wondered just what I was getting involved with. I had this feeling of impending doom. At least I’d be well away from here for a few days which could not be all bad or could it?

[to be continued]