You had to laugh, some of them looked worn out and they’d only been ‘out on the street’ for one night.
Nic was having the time of his life, all night company, places to eat and toilets open twenty four hours. Buildings open to all, light and life and most of all, everyone being nice to each other. Nobody cared who you were or where you came from, which was very different from nobody caring.
He had been given a wrist band, but had no intention of going to see the Queen. He wouldn’t have minded meeting her when she was still alive, some of her family were nearly as dysfunctional as his so she wouldn’t judge.
Nic had a fair idea what was going on at Westminster from chatting to others. Airport security, well he wasn’t carrying anything suspicious that would beep, but they would be on the lookout for suspicious looking people. Anyway, he was content to stay this side of the river. Others had come on their own, some people happy to share with new friends food they had brought or nipped from the queue to buy.
At regular intervals Nic would slip away for a ‘comfort break’ and discarding his wrist band, wend his way by a circuitous route to the back of the queue again and new friends. What a night, he saw the lights on the River Thames with new eyes, taking on the enthusiasm of those new to the city.
At Operation London Bridge Control Room human eyes looked at banks of screens while their colleagues, the digital detectives, scanned images with state of the art face recognition and other skills.
‘Screen six, near the end of the queue, got a loiterer… suspect coming back again, what’s his game… contact officers in that sector.’
Nic thought he was pretty anonymous, an observer, so he was startled to confront the smiling face of a man in a suit with a microphone.
‘We’re live on BBC television, can I ask what made you decide to come tonight?’
‘Oh um yes, I’m a local, so no trouble…’
‘It’s chilly tonight, but you were still happy to leave home comforts?’
Nic was just about to relate another made up life when he spotted them behind the reporter, two police officers and as he turned slightly, two more behind him. Now what on earth should he do…
‘No home comforts mate, I’m homeless, like lots of others and nobody has given us a mention… and if I get arrested nobody is going to care, except perhaps millions of viewers…’
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 
I love the ending!
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Thanks Liz, I’m hoping to see Nic when I’m watching coverage of ‘The Queue’!
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You’re welcome, Janet. Good luck with the Nic sighting!
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So clever, Janet. Even in Oz we are in hibernation until it’s safe to come out again. Imagine if even a fraction of what has been ripped from the Treasury to fund this mourning orgy had been spent on real homeless people.
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Hello Doug, glad you came out of hibernation long enough to read my blog. The funeral and vigils and The Queue have certainly taken the minds of millions off financial woes, national and personal.
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It has been a wonderful blessing to the government to be able to get a week away from the reporting of their failings, and the genuine financial crisis facing millions of people.
And of course, most of those millions fell for it completely. More fool them.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Hello Pete, I think most have minds of their own, glad not to think for a few days about the long winter ahead…
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Great ending, Janet 🙂
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Thanks Carol, I had already thought of the story when I heard them talking on the radio about security and looking out for people who were ‘loitering’ !
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the lines to see the Queen are incredible. I wonder if despite Nic having no intentions of advancing through the line, if his little speech on TV might get him right to the front of the line.
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I love your chgaracters and your twisty endings Janet!
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Thanks, I have fun writing them.
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Yes Jim, that would be good, I’ll look out for him.
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I always love your endings!
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Thanks Geoff, I didn’t know how this was going to end !
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I think that is what makes your endings so good. They are organic, growing while you write.
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Ys=es you could be right.
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