As we neared Regent's Park, Horace drew my attention to something odd on the fountain. Upon closer inspection, that something was a sleeping young girl huddled together with a small dog.
At first glance, she didn't look like the type of kid you'd find sleeping alone in the park. Shoes that weren't worn through, school uniform that wasn't tattered or soiled, and just a general look about her that said "I have a home."
"Just leave her be," I told Horace. "Take Wink and skim the fountain." So we went about our business as if it were any other day.
Horace and Wink splashing about must've woke her. As I relieved a less-than-charitable gentleman of his wallet, I turned just as she startled awake, looking in my direction before quickly pretending to be asleep again. It seemed like as good a time as any to say hello.
"Morning," I said as I hopped up onto the ledge next to her.
Horace must've seemed a bit too inquisitive. When he got close enough to stoop down for a better look, the girl's dog began growling and her eyes flew open. She panicked at his close proximity and shot to her feet, abruptly kicking Horace away from her.
As she stood there, I realized something that hadn't been obvious at first, curled up the way she was. While her clothing gave the impression of a home, her overall disheveled appearance and the tell-tale glint of fear in her eyes told a different story. She was just like us.
"Go back to your family, little girl!" Horace shouted.
For a moment she said nothing, just stood there looking between us. I couldn't help but admire how she stood her ground.
"She has no family," I said plainly.
She glared at me, but made no attempt to deny it.
Just then, the peeler's whistle blew. "Oi!" He shouted, and began to give chase.
"Come on, Horace!" I said as we dashed from the fountain and out of the park.
As we scurried through the back alleys, I heard the girl's footsteps trailing behind us, and saw her a short distance behind. But as we slipped through the fence that surrounded the abandoned flats we called home, I lost sight of her.
She must've been caught, I thought to myself. Better her than us, I suppose.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
We scrambled up to the roof and down through a skylight, dropping hard onto a pile of old mattresses.
"That was close," Horace said with a grin. "I think we lost her."
The words were hardly out of his mouth before the girl and her dog dropped down through the skylight.
"So," I said as she looked about the darkened flat, "what's your story?"
Her eyes immediately began to glisten with tears. She turned away quickly, pretending to look around to hide it.
"Where are your parents?" Horace asked.
She didn't answer right away, only stood with her back to us sniffling back tears.
"My mum's dead," was all she said.
The sadness in her voice was heartbreaking. Those three little words held a world of pain for her, and hearing her say them caused something to tighten in my chest. She had the same look about her as Horace when he lost his mum. In that moment, I made a decision.
"I...think you should stay here," I said.
It would benefit us all. She wouldn't be alone with nowhere to go, and for Horace and me, having a girl around would help us look innocent and be a distraction.
"I wanted to be a fashion designer...not a thief," she said sadly. Realizing her lack of options, she began to weep quietly.
"She crying again?" Horace said in a low voice.
"Her mum died. You remember what that's like," I reminded him.
A look of sorrow crossed his face as he hung his head. He remembered.
With a defeated look, the girl removed her oversized hat, revealing a mop of hair that was solid black on one side and pure white on the other.
"Cripes!" Horace shouted.
I merely stared in wide-eyed astonishment. It was a bold and rather unusual look, but it looked good on her.
"I need to dye my hair," she said.
"I don't know, I quite like it," I said, and I meant it. But she was right. Hair like that would attract attention and be painfully easy to spot. I couldn't say no to the pleading expression she wore. "Alright, we'll get your hair dye. But first, if you're going to be a part of our gang, I think we should know your name. I'm Jasper. This is Horace. The little one-eyed chap is Wink."
"I'm Estella. This is Buddy." She picked up the little dog and held him to her like a small child's security blanket.
"Alright then, Estella, you and Buddy stay here and get settled in. Come on Horace, this won't take long," I said.
"Wait!" She called as we made to leave. "How do I know you'll come back?" She kept her voice steady, but I could hear a sliver of panic in it.
Horace and I exchanged a look, then he looked down at Wink.
"Wink, you stay here and keep an eye on things," he said, and Wink trotted over and sat at her feet, tail wagging. He looked back at Estella. "That dog is like a son to me, I wouldn't leave him here if we weren't coming back."
She looked down at Wink, who yipped and continued wagging his tail, then back at us, making no attempt to hide her apprehension.
"Look," I said calmly, "if this arrangement is going to work out, you're going to have to trust us."
"What if I don't want it to work out?" She retorted with just a hint of defiance.
All I could do was smile and shake my head. "I think if that were the case, you wouldn't have followed us."
She graced me with the same glare she shot me at the park, but again made no move to deny it.
"We won't be too long," I said, shooting her a quick smile over my shoulder as we left.