The Last Coin

Lifted from Newcastle Evening Chronicle's webpage

Yesterday I took Ferretfingers down for a longed for trip to newly reopened Newcastle Quayside Sunday Market.  There was a time when we went down nearly every week, until I put my foot down and limited it to a monthly visit.

Still reluctant to use public transport, and for some exercise, I parked near New Bridge Street and we walked down through the old city walls, and Sandgate, almost to the Millennium Bridge, then turned upstream.

We soon came across a busker playing excellent electric guitar.

Musicians have had a hard time of it recently.

During this present unpleasantness I’ve been paying for almost everything using my contactless card, for hygiene’s sake, and have no change in my purse.   

Ferretfingers always does.   

I asked him for a coin to drop into the guitar case.

A little further on there was another guitarist, this time something a little more mellow.

I asked for another coin, which was dropped into the case.

The Quayside Market is operating a one way system: upstream on the road, downstream next to the stalls.  There are hand sanitising stations and requests for face-covering and social distancing.

Walking upstream I noticed a young man, obviously on the street, so I asked for a third coin and surreptitiously dropped it onto his coat (he was fairly out of it). 

Whenever I see a homeless person I wonder how they got that way, and hope to God neither of my sons will ever be so unfortunate.

The kittiwakes are back nesting under the Tyne Bridge and the sound of their calls nearly reduced me to tears.  I don’t know about anyone else but I’ve had my shoulders hunched up to me ears for so long it hurts to relax them.

We visited some stalls, bought a jar of plantain pickle and some books and chatted with the china-stall lady who lives near us.  Finally Ferretfingers got his hot-dog and we retired to the Law Court steps to lunch.

Walking back up towards Croft Stairs I noticed another street dweller so asked Ferretfingers for a coin.  He growled a little, took it from his change purse, went across to the man and said 

“Excuse me.  This is the last coin ever.”

Fortunately the man, bearded but clean with really good teeth, didn’t take offence and grinned hugely.

Especially when I came out with a flustered “Oh my goodness, I hope not.”