Was Chris for real?

I still don’t know whether I’ve been had

I have been wondering what to do about Chris…. Well, I call him Chris, but the truth is that I’ve only met him once and I’d hardly say our brief acquaintance qualifies as friendship. How does one get oneself into these quandaries?

Four weeks ago, I was walking along Buckingham Palace Road, towards the coach station, when I noticed Chris. He was a couple of steps ahead of me, talking on the telephone, and in a state of agitation. He was talking to a friend. His father had died that afternoon, and he needed to borrow the fare — 30 quid — for the coach to Leeds. Could his friend help? I was alongside with him by then, and glanced over. A tall man in his early forties, untidy hair, a well-worn overcoat, a shambling air. Not smart, but not disreputable. What sort of person needs to phone a friend to borrow £30 for coach fare? Someone with a cash-flow problem.