I’d seen lots of movies where the character who’s on the road picks up casual work in towns he’s passing through. Washing dishes. Cutting firewood. Sweeping. I couldn’t believe that in a city the size of London it might be impossible for a guy to find that sort of work. I mean, the place is packed with restaurants, caffs and kebab houses, not counting all the pubs. During my two weeks in Wharfedale Road I must’ve tried two hundred of them, starting with those in the King’s Cross area. I got nowhere. Nowhere at all. As the days passed I widened the area of my search, and by half-way through the second week I’d been as far north as St John’s Wood and south into Lambeth. I’d tramped the narrow little streets of Soho and the boulevards of South Kensington from early morning (I thought potential employers might be impressed by my willingness to be out and about early) till late at night. I’d offered my services i-n sleazy greasy caffs and posh hotels and everything in between till my feet felt bruised and I could hardly drag myself out of bed in a morning. I walked everywhere to save money. I lived on cheese rolls and tea, but I was down to nine quid and some change when rat-face came for his rent.

It was Friday night. Eight o’clock. I’d just got in. The room was freezing cold and I was treating myself to a quick burst of the cashgobbling electric fire before bed when there was this knock on the door. I opened up and it was him. He said two words, ‘Evening,’ and ‘Rent.’

I looked at him. ‘It’s only Friday,’ I said. ‘I’m paid on till Monday.’

He shook his head. ‘Friday’s rent day, sunshine.’

‘But I moved in on a Monday,’ I protested. ‘And paid two weeks. That makes the room mine till Sunday night.’

He moved so quickly I hadn’t time to step back. One second there was a yard of space between us, and the next he had a bunch of my shirt in his fist and his face was an inch from mine. ‘Listen sunshine,’ he hissed. ‘The room’s mine. I make the rules around here and the rent’s due. If you’ve got it, pay up. If you haven’t I’ll give you five minutes to pack your stuff and get out. ’ He shoved me and followed me in, leaving the door open.