Being Sian' - Living Day To Day

8/14/2019 'Being Sian' - Living Day To Day

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Being Sian

Living Day To Day

It was four o clock when my pager got a message. The Homeless Centre

had rang and told me to give them a call back. Racing to the phone box in

the street, I dialled the digits onto the metal squares with my fingertips. I

hope this meant we got a place, I kept thinking as the ringing filled my

ears.

Hello East London Homeless Service, how can I help. A bright voice

answered.

Oh Hello Suddenly I didnt know where to start. I got a message

today, you called me, about a place

Whats your name? She interrupted, cutting to the chase.

I gave it to her and she paused, typing into her computer.

Oh yes. We rang to tell you there is a place on the night shelter service,

have you got a pen with you?

I didnt, but tried to remember the information. It was in a Church in

Forest Gate tonight. I tried to repeat the road name in my head, over and

over. Bradshaw Street, next to Ridleys Bar, you cant miss it.

I opened the door of the phone box and repeated it out to James.

Remember that. Well get a pen from somewhere. I said.


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3We spent the rest of the day doing nothing till eight o clock arrived. He

had tried to send me home to my mother instead, to let him disappear on

his own, but I had argued, pleading:

I dowanna go back to her, she gets on my nerves. Cant I stay with you?

I couldnt think of what he wanted to do so badly without me being there.

When I asked him this, he muttered something about Needing space,

were living in eachothers ear, as it is. This made no sense to me either.

Thats what couples were supposed to do, didnt he love me?

We took the bus from Poplar High Street towards East Ham. James had

refused to sit next to me, in another of his huffy moods. They were

frequent now, and sprang out of nowhere. I could never foresee them. Istared miserably out of the bus window, my right shoulder squashed up

against it. Asian men gabbled quickly in their babbling language behind

me, and once again, I envied the lives of strangers, somehow convinced

that their lives were happier than mine right now. I didnt know what to

look out for in the streets outside, the directions she gave me were

probably invisible from the bus route, so I kept an eye on the hunched

shoulders of James, for my cue to leave.

This happened three stops later. He didnt look back at me to check I was

following, as he grabbed his bag up from the floor. He joined the queue of

passengers as they moved towards the stairwell of the bus directly ahead

of where I sat, bodies climbing down in front of him a step at a time. He

had to turn direction to face the back of the bus as he inched forward,

glancing up at me reluctantly over the metal rail.

I knew that if it faced the other way, he wouldnt have made the eye

contact, using the location as his excuse. I met his bland, cold face warily,knowing what his thoughts were, but he cleverly managed to turn it on

me, his sharp eyebrows raised to the ceiling in a sudden jerky motion.

Come on, what are you waiting for, are you slow or something? is the

message he shot out at me with this one simple move. I followed, feeling

the last scraps of my energy disappear along with my spirit.


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4We turned into Bradshaw Avenue besides Ridleys Bar, just as the woman

had said. I felt like a cockroach as I passed the loud cheerful office men as

they got tipsy, jeering at each other playfully in mock brawls. The light in

their eyes died as they looked at us in their cold, analytical way. I felt like

a common scumbag, as I passed their patch. We didnt have enoughmoney to eat with that day, let alone call in pint after pint like they were.

The towering grey Church was impressive, standing grandly over our pitiful

lives. We were late, so there were no crowds pushing in through the doors

when we arrived. I felt unsure of myself as I pushed open the heavy

wooden door, as if we didnt have permission to be there. Inside, scrawny

men stood around clutching cups of tea and soup, handed out from a small

table with tiny narrow legs. It looked like it would topple over, sendinghot liquids flying, just waiting for a drunken fool to crash into it if he lost

his balance, the warm air dizzying his cold face. It didnt happen; I was

almost disappointed.

A woman smiled at me from the next table, asking if I needed any clothes.

I looked at the black bin bags stashed next to her, jumpers and tops

spilling out. I looked through them curiously, repulsed at the lack of style

and fashion in the grannyish patterns of the stiff, itchy woollen jumpers,

and politely declined. A television was on, channels dancing out colours

and images, the sound turned down very low. The glazed eyes of

homeless men fixated on the screen, not caring whether it made no sense,

hypnotized out of their plaguing thoughts and the cold.

We were shown into the large hall inside. About forty single collapsible

camper beds were stacked in rows. They told us to help ourselves to the

sheets and bedding in a cupboard in a small hall, next to the Confession

booths. The whole set up seemed surreal, as if being Catholic was not acondition to receiving this kind of help, as we were beyond it. After a

while, we might come to our senses after our physical needs were

attended to first. I felt like we were cheating, by tricking them into an

expectation of converting in the future.


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6After being informed of the next nights sleeping location, it was up to us

to disappear into the street outside and find something to do till then. We

were informed of the homeless day facilities in East London, so we

returned to Whitechapel for the free food at the Day Centre there. I

hadnt even known it existed before.

It was like a community centre, with tired scruffy men grabbing cans in

corners and trying to dodge the staff who shouted out their no drinking

policy. Showers were available but most of them had no interest,

preferring to huddle together in groups of communal misery, deft fingers

rolling tobacco with ease, which contradicted their helpless, weak body

language of inability.

James had no interest either in a shower. I didnt bother either, dreading

the cold, and the prospect of there being no towels. Anyway I felt drained

and lazy. I was hungry now though, so we went to the canteen to staff

who stared at the queue suspiciously, the thought clearly in their heads

that we were all trying to scam them somehow. They shoved stale rolls

and lukewarm soup at us without manners or care. I laughed to myself,

imagining these mousey smelly men trying to sell extra rolls in the local

market for a pound or two.

It was as we were leaving the Day Centre that James attacked me. I was

saying how lucky we were that the Day Centre was there to pass the time,

and that it was cold.

Just shut up! I dowanna hear it. He flung at me, spinning round to glare

at me with sharp eyes of rage.

What?! Id asked, shocked and confused.

Stop fucking complaining! Im not in the mood for your whinging right

now.


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7But. Itried to defend myself. I couldnt figure out what Id said wrong,

or why it made him so livid.

Look, if you dont like it, maybe were better off splitting up Sian. Im

warning you. Its up to you.

Suddenly he moved from attack to control, making it seem as though he

was being reasonable to a girl who was clearly a problem. I panicked,

wondering what he meant by us breaking up. I would do anything to stay

with him. So I stayed silent, whispering a small timid sorry to pacify him.

He ignored my peace plea now, storming away from me in long cold angry

strides. I followed behind, heavy with dread. Part of me, the alive bit

deep inside the back of my chest, fought back with the thought:

Maybe Ill just leave him here, and be the one to dump him. Thatll show

him, maybe hell be sorry then.

Of course I didnt do that. I stayed behind him following submissively, like

an Asian wife who steps behind her husband. My chest hammered now as

I hoped things like this wouldnt keep happening, that Id seen the last of

James unpredictable temper.

We didnt have to wait very long to be allocated a shelter; less than a

fortnight later, we were given a double room in Poplar House, near Mile

End. Despite the doubts I had about James, I was relieved at getting a

place to stay. I was getting tired of changing churched every night and

wandering every day by myself, when James left me to it.

Poplar House was formerly an Old Peoples Home, converted into a shelter

for the Winter. Of course, my mother was happier with me being there, as

it was closer to where she lived in East London than Victoria Place was.

She insisted on visiting me there, To see where it is, so I know where you

are, if you ever go missing.

Events moved very quickly; we were soon offered a flat together. Myself

and James barely had time to unpack and settle in our room before we


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8were called upstairs to the Managers office. My heart was pounding; I

thought we were in trouble about something. Instead, a busy, firm looking

man sat with his arms across his chest, barking threats across the table

about behaving ourselves in our new flat or wed end up back here again.

He was a no-nonsense type- straight away he told us the offer was non-

negotiable, Take it or leave it. We had to accept it as a joint tenancy, he

said, since we were a couple. We were not entitled to separate

accommodation. He shoved forms across the short table in a swift move,

demanding signatures, without a smile. His face was the hardest I had

ever seen, I was surprised.

It was time to tell my mother about it. She arrived at our room, as I stoodalone in front of the mirror cabinet. James had gone on another mystery

tour an hour before.

Im moving in with him, mum. I told her firmly as we walked along the

street from Poplar House. I was becoming braver by the month. I tried to

stand up for myself now.

I mean it. Were moving in together. The hostel gave us a flat.

Oh no, youre not. She said, with dark vicious hatred. You aint living in

sin. Get married or leave him!

Unwilling to be a part of her as we walked together in unison, I fell silent

and edged away from her. Stubbornness was rising inside me, but I didnt

know what to say back to her.

Well, weve got the flat now, and Im not turning it down. I saideventually, the cold rift between us like the view from a cliff edge, huge

and unforgiving.

Silence filled the next few minutes. We went into the local pub, her face

set in anger. The pints sat in front of us as Robbie Williams played in the


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9background, the happy atmosphere clashing with our argument, bitterness

cutting our table off from the rest of the people around us. After a

miserable hour and a half, I told her I wanted to go back to the hostel.

Ill bring you back. She told me, gruff and unrelenting.

Back inside, I went to the small stuffy room I shared with James, and

collapsed onto the double bed that consumed it. I peeled off my socks,

and one rolled over the edge of the bed. As I retrieved it, I noticed a small

mouse, dead in a trap by the side of the dressing table. I felt sorry for him,

he reflected my own deadness inside. Alcohol did nothing to lighten my

mood after being crushed again by the presence of my mother. Despite

needing to oppose her domineering control, I knew that James was not

everything I needed.

It wouldnt be long before we moved into our flat, but small little ice cubes

of doubt melted away inside my chest. I resisted them, they were not

going to be helpful now; it was too late. They had already noticed that we

were a couple, and had refused to house us separately. Besides, I knew I

didnt want to go it alone now at this stage; Id lived in hostels too long to

wait for my own place. Also, it would sicken me to give up on James, that

would be admitting I had made a mistake.

Nothing to delight my mother more than for me to come crawling home to

her hostile black piercing eyes, with her taunts of; See, you wont succeed

in this world because you shouldnt be out there, you should be at home

with me! When will you learn? Why dyou have to do things the hard way

all the time? I was lonely and needed to be part of someone else right

now other than her. Years of her abuse had to be diluted now with

normality and a life, with friends. So far James was the only person I had.

copyright@emmasharn2009

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Being Sian' - Living Day To Day