We stood on raw feet for hours outside various hostels, but there were always hundreds of kids and we never got a bed. I started hallucinating. For hours at a stretch I thought I was back on Captain Hook’s foetid hulk. In lucid moments I’d gladly have given my right arm to be there, but I knew the Captain wasn’t interested in right arms. Once we’d been turned away from a hostel, we’d make our way to one of the stations – King’s Cross or St Pancras, mostly – to wait for the Sally Army. The walk would keep us from hypothermia, and the Sally Army came round about midnight with soup or sandwiches. It was free grub so there was always a mob, but we usually scored a butty apiece or a mug of soup, and that’s what kept us alive till February came, and the thaw.

Oh, by the way, if you’re wondering why I wasn’t attending job interviews all this time, I can enlighten you. My clothes were sodden rags. My fingernails were long black claws, I had matted hair down to my shoulders and I stank. I wanted work all right – would have killed for it – but I knew I hadn’t a hope in hell of being taken on in that condition. I wouldn’t have hired me.

February wasn’t a heatwave, either, but it stayed above freezing most of the time and we kept our feet dry. Tapping got a bit easier too. Not easy, but easier. I imagined I was becoming streetwise but I should’ve known better. I should’ve realized it was being with Ginger that was making things easy for me, but I didn’t. Not until this day I’m going to tell about. The day Ginger vanished.

It began like any other day. We woke in a doorway when it was still dark, packed our gear and went for some coffee. We were dossing near Camden Station and there was this all-night cafe called the Brazilia where we’d sit warming up till it got light and we could start tapping. Anyway, this particular morning Ginger said, ‘I’m meeting some mates down Holborn way this morning so I’ll see you later, okay?’

I shrugged. ‘Sure.’ I didn’t know who these mates were or when he’d fixed it up, but it was obvious he didn’t want me along and I wasn’t going to argue. The quickest way to lose a mate is to make yourself a drag, so I pretended I didn’t give a toss. I did, though. It hurt like hell. I walked him along to the station and said, ‘Have a nice day.’ He grinned and nodded and the stream of early travellers swept him away and I never saw him again.