A babyface hooligan and a gangsta rapper are in conversation with shockheaded Peter, just out his kip. Two of them are sitting on crates and the rapper is dancing to the beat in his head. They're talking fast and in low voices.
Babyface casts his eyes over to me, and I make eye contact briefly, but look away nonchalantly, like I absolutely didn't. Just a few towels and a pair of sheets; I peg them and as I bend down to get the last one, Babyface and Rapper skip past me towards the close but stop at the sound of Shockheaded P, "Ho, haud oan, gents," as he clambers to his feet. They wait as he shuffles towards them, his matted hair spiked and dishevelled, his clear blue eyes wide and staring.
Babyface dances on the spot impatiently and the Rapper cocks his head to one side,
"Mind, whit Ah told ye aboot gettin' in the back way. It's no a joke. It's no a bother, but the dentist can be lookin' oot that way. He's a'ways like that, dodgin' aboot, lookin' up n doon, so remember," and here he puts his hands on their shoulders in a fatherly fashion, "yiv goat tae watch."
"Aye, we will, we will." says Babyface, clapping Shockhead on the sleeve of his tartan lumberjack shirt. "No problem big man, thanks and away ye go n sit in the sun."
The shockhead of hair is rumpled again and P ambles back to his place and sinks down for a spot of sunworshipping.