2 – Sam

He shook himself and pushed his way on to his feet. Looking around he saw the girl’s arm and legs under a mound of rubbish. He removed the rusted cans and decaying plastic, and pulled her to her feet. He turned in what he hoped was the right direction and started to run.
Sam picked up speed as he saw his goal in sight, the ridge that marked the edge of the dump. He ran across the last few hundred meters of rubbish and started to climb the ridge. Up the compacted waste and onto all fours where soil started to blend with rubbish and higher to the top where there was only soil. He rolled over the top lay on the ground and slowly started to relax. They where safe now.
The girl sat down beside him, holding her left arm; a thin trickle of blood running between her fingers.
Sam closed his eyes for a few minutes as he recovered, then sat up and looked at the girl. “Hey, you’ve been hurt!” He reached over to the girl’s arm and looked at the long thin cut running along her forearm. “It’s not that bad,” he murmured as he examined it. “But I’ll spray it anyway.” He took a can of antiseptic foam from his bag, sprayed the cut and held the girl’s arm steady while it congealed.
The girl smiled at him and held up her right foot which had a very nasty cut along the heel and instep.
“That’s very bad,” he said as he wiped the blood away. He sprayed it with foam. “That needs to be bandaged,” he reached into his bag and took out a roll of bandage. Sam wrapped the bandage around her foot pressing it in against her instep and tying the ends around her ankle to stop it slipping.
“Can you stand on it?” Sam asked.
The girl got slowly to her feet and stood swaying slightly.
“Can you put much weight on your foot?” Sam held her arm to steady her.
She shifted more weight onto her injured foot and nodded to Sam.
“O.k.,” Sam looked at her. “I can’t take you home looking like that.” He looked around at the ground and saw the blanket the girl had brought with her. “Here,” he picked it up and wrapped it around the girl’s waist. “If I fold that like that it can pass as a skirt I suppose.” He tied a piece of string around her waist to hold the blanket in place. “I suppose that you’ll have to wear this as well,” Sam took off the old battered leather jacket that he was wearing and put it on the girl. “If you keep it closed,” he said zipping it up. “Nobody will know that you are wearing nothing underneath.”
Sam stepped back to look at the girl. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you look like a mess.”
The girl looked blankly back at him.
“Just keep your hands in your pockets.” He put her hands into the side pockets of the jacket. “If I walk slowly do you think that will you be able to keep up?”
The girl nodded.
“Can’t you talk?” Sam asked.
The girl slowly nodded her head.
“Oh. O.K.,” Sam shrugged and looked at the ground. “Would you like to come home with me?” he looked up at her again.
The girl nodded.
Sam smiled and said, “That’s great. Come on then,” he turned and walked away. He looked back over his shoulder. “Come on,” he gestured for the girl to follow him.
The girl started to walk after him.
He led her off the edges of the waste tip and onto the surrounding hills. As they crested the hill, they saw the city of London spreading out to the horizon and beyond. From the far away towers of office blocks and hi-rise apartments to the slum districts that was all that Sam knew. They walked along a trail that snaked down the side of the hill and joined with a mud track that led towards the shantytown that edged this side of London. Like some great mould it filled the gap between the mounds of earth dug up to uncover over a century worth of buried waste and the concrete shells that made the slum dwellings.
The track became a street at the foot of the hill where people had assembled homes on either side from cardboard, plastic sheeting and scraps of wood. As they walked along the muddy street nobody took much notice of them. Sam had walked these streets all his life and blended in perfectly. The girl hobbling along two paces behind him, was obviously down on her luck and even worse off than most of those living here. Even the gangs of kids running all around left them alone as being not worth the effort of hassling.
The mud turned to split concrete with patches of tarmac and the shanty shacks to run down shells of buildings with home made wooden supports. Sam became more wary as he neared his home. He was looking for anybody who seemed to be taking any interest in him. While his place had a solid door and a lock, his main protection from robbery while he was away was that nobody knew that he lived there.
Sam quickened his pace and led the girl over a mound of rubble where two houses had collapsed into each other. On the other side was a rubble-filled courtyard framed by half a dozen town houses that were so run down and dangerous that nobody wanted to live there.
He skirted the side of the courtyard and darted into a house, quickly pulling the girl into the shadows beside him. Keeping to the shadows he scanned the courtyard for any sign of life; then pulled the girl deeper into the house. They walked through the gloom and into another room and climbed through a hole that Sam had knocked through the joining wall into the next house.
They went down into the basement. Sam felt his way along a narrow passage, around a corner and switched on a torch he had taken out of his bag. They walked a little further, turned another corner and came to a steel door.
Sam took out a bunch of keys, unlocked four locks and opened the door. He led the girl into his home. He lit a couple of candles and turned to the girl.
“Well what do you think?” He gestured at the room.
The girl smiled. She walked over and sat on the bed leaning back against the wall.
“Are you tired?” Sam asked.
She nodded.
“Can you write?” Sam sat down in the chair.
She shook her head.
“Do you have a name?” he asked.
The girl thought for a moment, then shook her head.
“Well I’ve got to call you something,” Sam mused.
The girl lay down and wrapped a blanket around her self.
“How about Celia?” Sam asked.
She smiled back and nodded her head.
“O.K. then, I’ll call you Celia,” he smiled at her.
She smiled at him already half asleep.
“Goodnight, Celia,” Sam whispered.
He dimmed the light to its lowest setting and sat on the chair facing the girl lying in his bed, just looking at her sleeping.

Chapter 3 – Leaving