Day 2743
Friday September 18th 2026
Winchester
The high street is choc-a-bloc – there are even two saxophonists, and there’s nowhere for me to set up. While pondering what to do I have a chat with Big Issue Jessica about the keyboard kid and his ancient trilby-hatted dad keeping a watchful slavedriver’s eye on him at opposite side of the street in the Pentice. I remark the age difference between the dad and the mum.
‘Oh, she’s not much younger’ says Jessica.
‘Really?’
‘No, she’s in her sixties.’
‘Well, I met the dad when they first started coming here years ago and he was 73, I think he said.’
‘I met them, too, and the son was 12 then and now he’s 16 and he’s still got the same sign.’
‘Ah, no, it’s slightly different now. The first one said SAVING UP FOR MUSIC LESSONS, and now they’ve got SAVING UP FOR COLLEGE. I think it’s all a bit weird. The father never wanders too far away and he never lets him take a break and the kid never ever looks like he’s enjoying it. I think they’re just trying to make the most out of him while they can.’
‘Yeah, ’cause when he was little, he would make a lot.’
‘Exactly – it’s obvious isn’t it? People love that sort of thing – a kid out here, playing, with a big sign SAVING UP FOR MUSIC LESSONS. But I bet he doesn’t make half as much now. Mind, I bet he still makes a hell of a lot more than me!’
‘I think they keep the money. I talked to his mother and she was telling me about the stuff she’s had done to her face and I think that’s how she pays for it!’
‘I reckon you’re right. It’s all a bit dodgy. I reckon it’s child labour…and I don’t like the bloke, I mean the dad.’
I decide to go to The Square because it’s literally the only place left. On the way up the high street I bump into my new Cancer Research friend Gayatri – ‘Marvin! We’ve cancelled your debit!’
‘Oh right…why?’
‘Because you’re already signed up! You didn’t tell me that!’
‘Yeah, I did! Maybe you didn’t hear me but that’s the first thing I said when I met you a few days ago.’
‘Oh was it?’
‘Yeah. OK then, that’s fine. Did you go to the cathedral, like you said you were going to?’
‘Yeah, and it was expensive and I only had ten minutes left on my break.’
‘Yeah, I forgot to tell you about the charge. If you were in Europe you wouldn’t have to pay. What about the Great Hall?’
‘I was going to go today – it’s my last day. And the statue?’
‘It’s right down there, at the bottom, see? (I point down towards the King Alfred statue).
‘No…oh yes.’
‘That’s it. Anyway, I’ve got to go and play. I’m going to The Square, if it’s free, that is. I mean, the place is choc-a-bloc with all these buskers.’
‘OK, I’ll come and visit you on my next break.’
‘Really? OK, see you later.’
…and so I do, this time Gayatri is with her mate whose name I’ve forgotten.
‘It’s Shahira, like the singer but with a haitch – S haitch A…’
‘Right, let me stop you. It’s not HAITCH, it’s AITCH.’
‘No, it isn’t, it’s HAITCH.’
‘No, it isn’t! The word for the letter H is A-I-T-C-H, not H! I had to send a message to the BBC once because one of their reporters said haitch, and it’s wrong.’
‘No, it isn’t, it’s HAITCH!’
‘No, you’re wrong! Anyway, you both OK?’
They’re OK. They stand in front, listen to two songs then they’re back off to the high street for another shift.
I do an hour and a half…and for most of that time the arse and a young woman are putting up a big window sticker – the word WAX, As they’re inside the shop, he’s facing me, which I try and ignore. After that – I’ve accumulated fifteen quid or so – I pack up and visit the toilet in the alleyway, leaving the heavy trolley at the bottom of the stairs – very trusting, I am.
Then it’s down to Market Street but that spot’s just been taken by Alex, who remembers me from fifteen years ago when he was very young. He says I used to have a music stand, which I can’t remember at all so I ask if he was sure it was me and he says it definitely was. He then talks about the stuff we all use – ‘do you know a lot of the electrical stuff was developed by the military – the American military? Like these Shure mics, they invented them. They’re so strong. I mean, I’ve dropped mine on the pavement and the pavement comes out worse!’ He then talks about a keyboard busker – ‘He plays for a long time – five hours. I went to Portsmouth and he was there, then I went to Southampton and he was there and when I went back to Portsmouth he was there again! Everywhere I went, he was there!’
Back up the road…and another meeting with Gayatri and her mates – ‘Marvin! Again!’ screams Gayatri. ‘Yeah, we have to stop meeting like this! Well, I’m going to have to set up here because there isn’t anywhere else and I’m not going to the square again. Anyway, you’re off tomorrow so I won’t see you again.’
‘Not me’ says Shahira, ‘I’m here tomorrow.’
‘Right, well I’ll see you – if I’m in tomorrow, but not you Gayatri…and I know you’ll be sad but you’ve got my business card and if you want to see me play you can go on Youtube and all my songs are on bandcamp.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I’ll show you…(I get my phone out and get to the page), look, that’s me with a double-neck guitar.’
‘Wow, that’s two guitars!’
‘Yeah, well not quite. It’s mental, isn’t it? It’s all hand-painted – one of a kind, that is.’
I set up a few feet away from the girls and I wanted to do an hour and a half but just after the hour mark, it starts drizzling so that was that. It was enough anyway, as my brain was starting to turn to mush. In fact, I forgot Gayatri’s name when I was about to set off – ‘MARVIN!’ She and Shahira squealed in unison. ‘Marvin, how can you forget my name?’ ‘Yes Marvin, how can you forget Gayatri’s name?!’
‘I’m so sorry, Gayatri, I’ve been playing too long and my brain’s turned to mush. I’m so sorry!’
I say goodbye to the girls and Gayatri walks up the road with me, up to Jewry Street, where she has to turn right.
‘Well, it was nice knowing you, Gayatri, and I’m sorry I forgot your name but you let me know how you’re getting on – you’ve got my card, send me an email.’ I give her a hug.
‘I will Marvin! Bye Marvin!’
No she won’t. She’s 25 and she won’t look back and she doesn’t look back.
A good day, coinage-wise. Two hours and forty minutes results in £55.73.