See you tomorrow! Peggy shouts.
I peep out the window.
Peggy is a wide woman.
She slams Marla’s front gate shut
and climbs into a car too tiny for her,
the wing mirror attached with tape.
I tiptoe down the stairs
with all my stuff.
In the hall Marla’s handbag
is still dangling from the newel post.
I take from it her purse
and then a tenner,
plastic smooth,
put the purse back again.
And then I am running
out the back door
heading for the seashore.