The man in Kentish Town

As I sit outside a caf in Kentish Town reading this week's CNJ while I wait for my support worker, a man comes up to me and asks if I can spare some tobacco.

I hand my Golden Virginia over to him and carry on reading. Then I look up and say to him:

"I'm not suggesting you are an addict or anything but what do you think of these 'secret drug centres' being planned?" I show him CNJ's front page.

"I am an addict," he says. "I've just relapsed after being clean for 18 months."

There are no words. None. I read out what's behind my question to him:

"The West End Drug Treatment Centre would bring all south Camden's drug services together under one roof and help hundreds of users conquer their addiction with counselling and medication.
"But resident groups fear the the centre will become a magnet for muggers and pushers with junkies discarding needles in the street."

"Yeah, I think they're a good idea," he says.
"Residents are against it. Do you think they've got cause to be?"
"Well yeah," he continues. "Addicts will go there because they really want help, others will go half hearted like, but dealers will come and prey."

I ask him if he has access to a computer, he could write to the paper giving his point of view.

"Oh no, I can't do that stuff, no, I can talk, do the talk loads but try and do that other stuff.... I don't even know how to use a computer, family in Australia, Canada, dunno how to do it."
"I'm the other way round."

He was 12 when he was first introduced to heroin, he was now 39 he said. He learnt to read and write in prison when he was 32. He went to local schools here, a secondary I want to send my son to. He got 'left behind'.

I tell him about the recovering addict who won an award at the Pride of Britain awards ceremony on tv last night. I tell him he can do it.

Oh I could tell you so much more about this man. It's all there, he has everything there to just take off with his life and he knows it, but so is the heroin, so is his addiction and he knows that too. He said he's on 'blockers' at the moment but I'm not going to pretend to you that this is my world reader and I know all about it. It isn't and I don't.

"It's not the same," I say pointing to my fags, "but I gave these up for a year a few years ago, then just started again. I know it's really hard."

Then my support worker arrived and the man left.

Take us home, London roads, to the place that we belong (John Denver)