This is the first of a new mini series, each one will follow the former so they are best read sequentially. I welcome voting and comments and indeed emails.
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I have been living in Paris for two years now, my wife died four years ago and I came to realize that I could not longer stay in the home we'd made. So I had the place redecorated and got a agency in to take care of letting and the tenants. That provided a sizeable income which I used to rent a apartment near the Gare du Nord. That was entirely accidental choice but as it turned out very fortuitous for me. I wasn't wealthy but with two pensions I had more than enough for myself and for my hobbies and interests.
It was wet and windy late September Friday early evening, I'd set a stew on the hob and tidied the lounge then crossed the street for a cognac in the cafe before making my way up to the station and then up the escalators to the Eurostar platforms. I'm 68 years old, 14 stone with grey hair and glasses. At 5' 8" I didn't stand out from the crowd, if fact I found people could look right through me, I was use to that by now, and in truth it could be useful some times.
There was a mass of people up there looking up at the departure boards so I moved back and began to scan the crowd. If you know the signs they are easy to spot. He was a young man about my height but much thinner, cheap coat and a rucsac but what marked him out was that he was going up to the guys in the crowd and clearly begging, and he wasn't having much luck.
I let him make a full circuit before moving across into his path, he made eye contact then came up to me. Up close his face had a pinched and drawn look and he clearly needed a good feed and a shower.
'Please sir, I just need a little cash to cross for a job, please sir will you help me,' I'd heard this stuff many times but he didn't look like some of the druggies you see up here so I was inclined to believe him, I also thought him rather clever to guess I was English.
Knowing that you could get a overnight fare to London for 65 euro, I asked, 'What's the job you've got?'
He brightened at that and drew out a rumpled letter and pushed it at me, luckily it was in English and it was a short term job offer for a kitchen and general hand in a hotel in Ashford, where I knew the Eurostar stopped too. 'Please read, I have job, but only 45 euro left, I'm stuck, please help me,' The letter looked genuine and as I scanned his face he did too, 'My name is Jan, I come from Armenia but now I have trouble,' He did indeed look like he'd spotted something and turning I saw two Gendarmerie looking over at us.
I stepped up closer to him and said, 'My name is Sam and I can help, I have a flat nearby, I have food and a shower and a warm bed, but you must help me too,' at the last bit I brushed the back of my hand over his crotch, he flinched at that and his shoulders sank but we both saw that the flics where moving across to us. 'You help me and I'll help with the fare, Okay?' and at that he straightened up and nodded. 'Come on, quick then,' and I led him away from the crowd and the cops.
'You live nearby Sam, and food yes?' He clearly hadn't eaten for a while and I wondered how he came to have so little money.
'Very close yes,' as I led him out into the street, I pointed out up the wide boulevard, 'It just up there, and yes food too, you'll like it.' After a short walk we found my apartment and began the long climb up to the second floor, where panting I opened the door. Inside it was lovely and warm and the goulash smelled wonderful. 'Right you, shower first, then eat, and I'll wash all of your clothes, so strip!' He looked a bit shocked at that so I said it again, 'Strip and I'll wash the lot,' So he hung up his back pack and coat, took off his trainers and socks, then the jeans and lastly his T shirt and underpants. He stood there squirming looking embarrassed and coving his genitals with his hands.