“Hey, Bailey,” Cassie interrupted. “I’m taking the Patricia Cornwell.”
“Awesome. Wait here a sec while I grab something from the front.” He rummaged in the glovebox of the van, pulling out the folder of brochures kept there. He had brochures for local shelters, places that offered food and a bed for the night, plus information on local support services. These organisations offered help with welfare and finding employment, things these street kids needed. Cassie and Jude weren’t street kids, as such. They were homeless but “couch-surfed” at friends’ places most nights. They had a roof over their head, if not a permanent home. He had no idea about Emma, but wanted to make sure she knew what help was available to her if she needed it.
He approached the three teenagers and thrust the small pile of papers at Emma. She took it on reflex, but didn’t even look at what it was. She shoved the brochures, unread, into her overcoat pocket.
“Such a do-gooder. Can’t help yourself, can you, Bailey?” Cassie teased with warmth in her voice.
He gave her a wink. “Where are you guys off to tonight?”
“Got a bit of cash so we’re going to grab some Maccas, then probably find a bed for the night. It’s bloody freezing out here. Here, I got you this.” She reached into her backpack and thrust a Violet Crumble chocolate bar his way.
“Yum. I’ve told you that you shouldn’t feed my sweet tooth.”
“Okay.”
He snatched the bar before she could pull her hand back.
“Ha!” Cassie laughed. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
“Yeah, let’s be honest, I’m never gonna turn away chocolate. Thanks, Cass. Have a good night. Enjoy your burgers and your book.”
“Oh, I will. See ya.” Cassie grabbed Jude by the arm. Jude gave a friendly wave, and Emma a terse nod, and they walked off, Emma trailing behind.
Bailey stood by the van. He’d give it another ten minutes before heading a bit further down the road. Another ambulance sped by and he watched the red and blue flashing lights disappear round the corner, the sound echoing between the tall inner city buildings. There were way too many emergency vehicles on the streets. Accidents, drug overdoses, street fights outside nightclubs—these were the regular events of a weekend in the city.
Finally he locked the back doors of the van and got ready to move on. He didn’t like to stay in one place too long and risk run-ins with the cops over parking violations. The warmth of the van was welcome as he cranked up the heating, and once again Bailey thanked his lucky stars that he was only on the streets by choice.
