© Katherine De Vere 2023
We met by the crowded Embankment Tube, where bright troupes of tourists, iphones-in-hand were a-gathering for different walks and talks. The Dickens Tour by London Walks was mine, hosted by the excellent Richard III. The day was grey, with intermittent drizzle, “Luverly English weather!” – still the tour progressed.
As our assemblage ambled leisurely towards Lincoln’s Inn Fields, discussing The Poor Law and the dire conditions of Victorian workhouses my eye spied a homeless, sleeping man lodged in a dank archway, hunkered down in a grimy sleeping bag. “Not much has changed,” thought I, real life imitating Dickensian destitution? Every passer by ignored him, stepping past him as one invisible. Watching still, as two women, (British-African?) stopped by the prone figure. The younger woman bent down, the older spoke first – both carried shopping bags. “Would you like a sandwich, Dear?” She inquired, waiting by him. The man, awoke, looking confused. “Breakfast?” The women suggested. The man smiled.