Chapter 1
The cold London air stings my face like a malicious nest of bees. Attempting to protect myself from the chilly wind, I wrap my scarf tighter around my face. It is the only scarf I have. Actually, to be honest, it's one of the only pieces of garment I own at all. You see, I'm not very well off, and, you know, people these days aren't exceptionally generous to the homeless. I treasure my scarf. It's the only keepsake I have of my late mother, Jackie Tyler. 2013 was a devastating year for me. My mum died of cancer, I lost my job, and I was evicted from my home. Now here I am, sitting on the sidewalk by the newsstand in an old fold-up chair. Yeah, sure, my life isn't exactly what most people would call easy.
I check my watch and see that it just struck 11 p.m. There's only one hour left in 2013. Isn't that something? Seems like the year just started yesterday!
A low rumble fills my ears. That would be the rumbling of my hungry stomach. It's time to see what food awaits me in the cart. My shopping cart (which I smuggled out of the local grocery store, thank you very much) is pretty full by now. All my belongings are in that dear thing. I have quite a relationship with that cart; I named him Mickey. Dry, uncombed blond hair wisps through my eyes as I scavenge through the cart. Eventually, I find a small pack of peanuts, pretzels, peppermints, two apples, four cans of soup, four bottles of water, and a full box of crackers. That should be enough to last me a couple of days, I suppose. I devour a whole pack of crackers, yet I'm still not content, but I force myself to stop eating; I don't have enough food to last me long.
I have a little cardboard sign lying against the chair I'm sitting in. It reads: LOST JOB AND HOUSE. ANY HELP IS APPRECIATED. GOD BLESS. That, my friend, is my only source of hope. Every day I sit in a different spot with my chair and Mickey and just pray that a kind stranger would have the heart give me a few pounds.
Patiently, I watch the cars as they stop at a red light just across from me. Here and there, I get a friendly wave or two from someone, but never any money. Of course, I smile and wave back, but I have no idea why I do that. I'm not happy at all, and my life is a miserable mess. Gently, I pull up my sleeve an inch to look at the cuts on my wrist. It reminds me of who I am.
The minutes tick by, and suddenly, a straggly old man (I presume he's homeless like me) with overgrown and unhygienic facial hair snatches the cans of soup out of Mickey and makes a run for it. I jump up. "Oi!" I yell at him as he dashes away. "Get back here!" I sprint towards him. He turns a corner, and I follow. Down this alley, down that alley. Soon enough I lose him. And my soup. Depressed, I trace back my path to Mickey. A man is sitting in my seat.
When I see him, I gasp, but he puts up his hands in surrender and says, "Now now, it's perfectly okay. I was just protecting your cart while you chased after that rude hobo." He gets up out of my seat and gestures for me to sit down.
For some unknown reason, I cannot take my eyes off the man. Is it his insanely thin figure? Is it his charming accent? Is it his really good hair?
I must've been staring at him for quite some time without knowing it, because he blatantly clears his throat, obviously getting my attention again. "Right! Yes, sorry…" I apologize as my cheeks temperature rocket sky high.
"Perfectly fine, madam!" he answers politely (how could someone be so slick?!) "I'm the Doctor. What's your name?"
"Oh, I'm Ron- I MEAN… Rose." I cannot believe how stupid I'm sounding right now!
"Nice to meet you, Rose! It's pretty bitter out here. Aren't you cold?"
"Oh, yes sir; I'm freezing." (Finally something that doesn't sound like it came from a stage-frightened twelve-year-old.)
"C'mon, let's step inside this restaurant then." He takes my cart and pushes it to the entrance of a place called Archie's. Noticing that I'm sort of shocked he would just leave Mickey there as he holds open the door for me, he moves his face so close to mine that I can feel the warmth of his breath and remarks, "On my life, nothing will happen to your cart."
I step inside Archie's.
