Wye oh Wye… Redmire to the rescue
“Spare any change mate? I need six quid for breakfast.” I give what I can, and the homeless man departs. That’s London prices for you. 7.30am, Sunday morning, Vauxhall station; a toxic junction of smell and sound that assaults the senses. Voices clash loudly, night owls mix with the morning larks. Drunkenness or drama? Violence …