LESSING
357
He went home to find his mother but she had moved again. He had
to use his wits to find where she was. A house, but nothing like the one
he thought of as home. He could not make himself go in, because he saw
Paul there, and the rage that was his enemy nearly overcame him.
So he took the old, old road to London, rich London, where surely
there must be a little something for him too. There he did find work,
was cheated again, lost heart, and Ellen Biggs found him starving in a
supermarket.
ON THE DARK PAVEMENT outside Mimosa House there seemed to be no
one about, but Ben knew how at night a shadow could lengthen and
become an enemy, and, turning a corner, he nearly ran into a drunk who
was lurching about and swearing and muttering. Ben swerved past and
ran across empty streets, not bothering about lights. Not until he
reached Richmond did he begin using the crossings, telling himself Go
on green,
Stop
on red. There were people about now, quite a lot. On he
went, following instincts that worked well if he didn't confuse them
with maps and directions, and then he was in a high street and he was
hungry. He went into a cafe that said "Breakfast All Day," and, as
always in a new place, looked hard at faces for that surprised stare that
might turn out to be dangerous. But it was too early for people
to
be
noticing much. He was careful to eat his breakfast slowly and atten–
tively, and left the cafe feeling pleased with himself. Off he went again,
and by midday was crossing fields with the sun spreading warmth
everywhere. Then he was in a wood. A thrush was riffling about in last
year's leaves. He caught it easily, had its feathers off, and ate it in a cou–
ple of crunches. The mate came to investigate. The two birds and their
hot blood stayed a craving that was always with him and then he went
on, fast, though not running because he knew that brought people after
him. In a service station he bought a bottle of water and came out of the
shop to see a motorbike roaring to a stop. Ben went to it, pulled by his
love for the shining, bright, powerful machine. He stood grinning-his
little smile of pleasure. The youth on the machine suppressed any
doubts he might have had about this odd-looking bearded man, because
he recognized a compatriot in his country, a lover like himself, and he
said, "Watch it a minute," and went into the shop. When he came out
Ben was stroking the handlebars, with a look on his face that compelled
this young man who normally would let no one so much as touch his
machine, to say, "Get on, then." And Ben leaped up and off they went.
