Thread by @RoadsideMum

I got in at about 7.30pm, after visiting a friend. My children had been gifted some personalised mugs so I wanted to make a stop at the shop for hot chocolate to put in them before bed.

As I'd have to pass the town centre to go home it made sense to swing round that way...

1.🧵

It was only 7.30pm. In pre-Covid, pre-disability times I often walked through that way much later than that. There are shops, pubs, takeaways, restaurants and betting offices that stay open later. My memory held that for this town, at this time, this was fine.

2.

I found town deserted. Just a few outliers standing in the doorways of vacant shops, or wobbling by. I was the only woman I could see anywhere, and the only person who looked sober. For that matter also the only person who looked kempt.

Still, it's 7.30, can't be that bad?

3.

I pulled the car into the closest spot to the cash machine, right outside the takeaway.

The muscular men inside stared out idly, possibly in hope I came to buy. They are big guys in there. The shortest man is close to 6ft and they clearly all enjoy the gym.

Big knives.

4.

"The second I get out, you lock the doors and you unlock them when I come back", I told the kid in the front. "Now repeat that back to me?"

"Is it scary Mummy? Is it dangerous?"

"No, I'm saying it just in case, that's all, now tell me again, what do we do?"

5.

I could really have done with my sticks. Hefty crutches, which support my whole forearm, bending me at the elbow so that my hands are ahead of me, not straight down as is more usual.

Let them stay in the car. Not this time. Look less vulnerable. Must mask.

Only 7.30pm tho.

6.

I stand at the cashpoint with my bank card only and withdraw just £10. Keep it low. It's not ideal here.

A familiar shape appears as I check over my shoulder. Down the road by the shop I see my ex. A relief! A friend! He hasn't seen me. Or if he has it hasn't registered.

7.

I raise my hand in silent greeting but the machine beeps for me to take my cash and when I am done, he is gone. Bugger. He can't have seen me.

It's just a quick dash for hot chocolate at 7.30, how is this so creepy?

But I am nearly there now. I should just get the item.

8.

At the shop a drunk can't remember how to make his bank card work. He calls the girl serving a "trollop". Who still says that? He seems to mean it in humour. She takes it in humour. The male shop owner looks on, without laughing.

I don't chat at the till and RD isn't here.

9.

The car is easily within sight. In daylight I could read the number plate. 8 or so shops each side between me and the end, between me and my personal moving safety cage, between now and when I can clear out of Dodge.

There are shadowy men each side of the street now.

10.

On the way down a man caught my eye. He's standing in the doorway of the empty building that once sold mirrored table lamps and assorted Samsung and iPhone charging cables.

If I stay on this side, the shop side, I'll pass him at 3ft or less distance. I don't like that idea.

11.

On the cashpoint side of the street, where my car is, a man outside the pub looks up at me, and begins to walk upward too, in the same direction. He's faster than me. He's going to gain on me. I don't want to be on that side either, but I must get back.

I walk in the road.

12.

"West End Gel" shouts the man from the empty shop. "West End Gels and East End boys innit. I'm an East End boy. I'm an East End Londoner".

I keep walking. I can't speed up. My disability will allow me to perform a normal gait and pace over short stretched, but no quicker.

13.

Has he heard me speak? I ask myself? Do I sound western somehow? West London? West country? Welsh?

What's he reacting to?

The dress? I'm wearing a charcoal grey jumper dress with leggings under. It's officewear, leftover from another era. It's presentable but no better.

14.

He's not logical. But his feet aren't moving either, and even though I am by this time almost out on the opposite pavement I decide he won't approach, so I switch my silent attentions to pub man, now very much gaining, 3 paces behind, on the side with all the alleyways.

15.

I have to get on the opposite pavement, that's where I parked, but the pub man is almost exactly matching my speed and I can't vary it.

I cannot move any faster at all, but if I stop Mr East End may take a step forward and that's no better.

16.

Level with the arse of the car, I step in sharply around the back. Without breaking my stride I tap on the windows, first the rear quarterlight, working my way forward to my own door. I want the kids to hit the unlock button instantly, but they delay a moment. Feels longer.

17.

I look up as he catches up with me, The faces of the men in the takeaway are not surly exactly, but not cheerful.

Knives as long as swords.

He catches their eye too, the biggest guy in the middle of the counter straightens himself to his full height.

Pub man walks on.

18.

The door clicks unlocked. I get in as another man seeps into view, moving smoothly like a ghost- or a drug dealer. His hood is up, his route bending into the streets darkest edges. Head down and turned away, the screen of the phone he holds as if to view emits no light.

19.

I lock the door before he draws level.

"Look at him, look at his face". I say to the kids.

"I can't see his face at all" says RN brightly.

"No, you can't". I say. "People who are up to no good do that".

"Was he up to no good"? They both ask?

"He might not have been".

20.

The short drive back we look at the men (only men) we pass. We look at how they walk and how they carry themselves. What do they look at. What do they avoid.

Teaching my kids the basics of the suspicious nature that keeps you away from "East End" boys, at 7.30 at night.

21.End

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