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Then you don’t want a lot, is what I think. But hey, who am I to judge?
‘What about Skunky?’ I ask. ‘He literally seems to tell everyone’s business but his own.’
‘Ha!’ Aiden laughs. ‘Reckons he’s a cut above. He was a lab technician or some-such in a hospital. Got caught with his fingers in the drugs cupboard by all accounts. Lost his job, wife. Still thinks he can lord it with us. But I take no notice.’
‘Well, I’ll buy him his White Lightening.’
‘Oh aye, if it’s a quiet life you’re after.’
Aiden takes me to the homeless drop-in centre, just up from the river. He steers me past a scruffy reception area with a stressed-out woman trying to deal with a guy shouting about needing a doctor. The main room is all Formica topped tables and a pool table at the end. Posters advertising health checks, drug and alcohol counselling, training opportunities, more stuff about the referendum. I feel a fake as we join the queue to the serving hatch where they’re dishing up bowls of Scotch broth, though I’m not about to turn down a free meal. Aiden avoids talking to anyone and takes me to a table in the corner.
I put my soup down and notice there’s a socket right there in the skirting.
‘Hey, do you think I’d be all right to charge my phone?’
Aiden darts a look around. There are a couple of old winos on the next table and a few lads playing pool, but no-one too close.
‘Just keep it low-key if you wanna hold onto your fancy phone.’
I take the seat next to the socket and plug it in discreetly. Maybe not the greatest idea to draw Aiden’s attention to my shiny new iPhone, but it’s too late now.
We get stuck into our broth which tastes unbelievably good. I’ve pretty much finished it when a man in an Aran jumper heads towards us with a bunch of leaflets. Aiden stares into his bowl but the guy catches my eye.
‘Hi, I’m just coming round with this from Shelter about the referendum.’ He shoves a leaflet under my nose: Shelter Scotland: Make Your Voice Heard. ‘It’s about getting homeless people to register.’
‘I’m not sure I qualify, as I live in England?’ I say. ‘Though my dad’s Scottish?’
‘Ah,’ the man smiles. ‘It is purely about where you reside, I’m afraid. What about you?’ He leans to face Aiden.
‘I have no residence. That’ll be why I’m homeless?’ Aiden gives him his best blank face-off.
The guy explains how it’s all about where you habitually spend your time. How everyone’s voice will count in this referendum.
‘Yeah, I’ve noticed there’s like quite a hype about the issue, and I’ve been in Scotland less than a day,’ I say.
Aiden snorts. ‘It’ll make no difference. The politicians will do what they want as they always have.’
‘Only if nobody challenges them,’ says the guy. ‘Have a look, give it a thought.’
Aiden grabs the leaflet out of his hand and stands up. ‘Come on, Gethin, we’ve got things to do.’ He heads for the door, ripping up the leaflet and binning it on the way.
I grab my phone and follow him out of the front door.
‘Fucking do-gooders,’ he mutters.
‘You could at least listen…?’ I start.
‘We need to get you cleaned up. There’s toilets in the shopping centre.’ And he’s crossing the road before I can say another word.
I follow him into the Gents where he stops in front of the sinks.
‘You can wash yourself safe enough in here. The toilets in the centre are minging full of smackheads.’
Standing in front of the mirror, I see my face is streaky grey and my hair has bits of dried leaf in it. I’m shocked how haggard I look, but why the hell would that bother him? He’s already lathering his face with soap and water – maybe it’s a pride thing. I wash my face and dry it on the paper towels and Aiden even finds a comb to run through my hair, then makes a joke of styling his quarter inch crop. We emerge two shades lighter.
‘Don’t take much to turn you back into a regular tourist,’ Aiden grins as we walk up the street away from the river.
Next stop is the Coop where I buy Skunky’s White Lightening, tobacco and a litre of red wine, plus a massive bar of chocolate. Oh, and a large bottle of water
