Smash

Once Peggy is out the door

I dash downstairs.

Marla is reading a magazine

upside down,

her head at an angle.

Hey.

She reaches into the pocket of her skirt,

pulling out two tenners.

I won at bingo! she announces,

bobbing in her chair.

Three fat ladies.

Or two.

Fat ladies for the win!

I love a fat lady.

And fat men.

I’d love any man though.

Save it, I suggest.

Or spend it on gin. She grins.

The off-licence is still open.

I saw the lights from the car.

I haven’t had alcohol

since Sophie stole

a bottle of Bacardi

from her aunt’s sideboard.

I hated the taste,

liked the feeling of being only half present.

I’ll get our coats, I say.