The Big Smoke

7pm: Gerda joins David at his flat for meditation on his mismatched chairs

Gerda in David’s world
11am: Find and Treat, tackling TB
‘I’m a little apprehensive,’ Gerda admits, outside Find and Treat, the Soho-based organisation that cared for David when he had TB and where he now does some part-time work. Gerda is on the committee for Lepra, a charity that deals with leprosy, TB, and HIV/Aids, ‘so we already have something in common,’ she comments.

But the reality of TB is obviously daunting. She sits straight-backed and serious opposite Find and Treat’s director, Alistair Story, with none of her usual flirtatiousness. After quizzing him about the stigma of TB, she asks ‘How ill was David when you found him?’

‘At death’s door,’ says Story. ‘He was one of the sickest any of us had seen.’

Gerda is shocked by this, given the lively man she is getting to know. ‘He’s been to hell and back, hasn’t he?’ she whispers.
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12.30pm: Gerda prices up peas

12.30pm: Shopping
Gerda’s supermarket trip is ‘an eye opener: I can’t remember the last time I went shopping!’

So how does she get food? ‘A man does that for me,’ she giggles sheepishly. Her partner, Roger, does all the shopping. ‘He’s wonderful.’

David has around £27 a week to spend on food, so Time Out gives Gerda a £5 budget for dinner for four and takes her to the local shops.

‘I’ve never been in Iceland before,’ she says, struggling with the trolley, then wanders the aisles, dazzled by Day-glo ‘special offer’ signs. At the checkout, with frozen peas, basmati rice and two cans of tomatoes, she exclaims. ‘I’ve already spent £3.49, and that’s before veg!’

Never mind the actual shopping: the concept of a budget is obviously new. ‘I never look at price,’ she confesses. At the veg stall, she deploys charm rather than maths. ‘Hello darling,’ she greets the stallholder. ‘I need two cauliflowers, potatoes, coriander, hot sweet peppers and fresh ginger.’

It comes to £3.76. Gerda is surprised: ‘Tim, darling, I have to go over my budget. It just can’t be done, but £7.25 isn’t too bad, is it?’

2pm: taking a look around David's former hostel

2pm: Endsleigh Gardens hostel
On the guided tour of David’s old hostel, Gerda’s mask slips. She looks as if she’s going to cry. ‘I poked my head into the TV room and saw this lovely young girl in great need of care. You wonder what led her there.’ Later, she tells me that her greatest fear is ‘of being old and alone ’.

But she is equally appalled by ‘an old man and woman huddled together in the lobby. He had a broken arm and she looked so sad.’ She wonders angrily about money wasted ‘on wars, the Olympic Games… the list is endless.’

4pm: Cardboard Citizens theatre
We stop briefly at Cardboard Citizens – the only professional theatre company run by, with and for homeless or ex-homeless people – to watch David rehearsing for a fundraising gala that Kate Winslet will attend.

6.30pm: David’s flat
David confesses that initially he was worried this article would be a reductive tale of ‘the pauper and the rich lady’. But it’s only outside his flat that he displays any worries about how Gerda might judge him. ‘I haven’t had the time or money to decorate yet,’ he says of his small one-bed, which has peeling navy wallpaper and unmatched chairs but no sofa. ‘I’m sorry, you’ll have to take it as you find it.’ Gerda tells me her first impression was ‘how clean he kept it’.

6.30pm: cooking in David's flat

‘We’re cooking mateer paneer, peas and fried curd in spicy tomato sauce,’ says David, ‘and aloo gobi sabji, fried cauliflowers and potatoes with yoghurt. Will you help me?’

It’s Gerda’s turn to worry about being judged, but she’s a willing, if tentative, sous chef. However the dishes don’t look appetising to her, so she’s figuring out the etiquette.

‘Honestly, darling, don’t cook much for me, I’m really not that hungry.’

More etiquette tests are to come. ‘Perhaps we could do a little meditation before dinner?’ David says, reaching for some wooden beads. ‘Why not? How long would you normally meditate for every day?’

‘About two hours,’ he says, sweetly. Gerda looks horrified. ‘But we’ll just do a few minutes as it’s your first time.’ He starts chanting.

Afterwards, she perches on an office chair, plate of curry balanced precariously on her knee. She seems remarkably at ease: she could be picnicking in Glyndebourne grounds. Cautiously, she forks up a tiny amount. Her face lights up with relief. ‘It’s delicious.’

Gerda in David's world | David in Gerda's world | What have we learned?