On second thoughts . . . why not? Why not leave a note just like that?

I left it lying on her pillow. Right next to where the housekeeping used to be.

My heart was thudding fit to burst. I think I was terrified she’d come home early and catch me. She never had – she paid what she always classed as ‘an enormous sum’ of money to the Centre to take her and feed her and entertain her and she’d never leave until she felt she’d had her money’s worth. I had plenty of time.

I made myself slow down, select stout shoes, something waterproof, warm clothes and some underwear. I stuffed the money – I hadn’t had time to stop and count it – into my toilet bag and shoved the whole lot into a carrier bag, because I never went anywhere, so why would I have a suitcase?

I threw on my coat, flung open the front door and ran down the path. I heard the door slam behind me and realised I’d left my key behind.

Now I couldn’t go back even if I wanted to.

I see I’ve begun in the middle but the seagull thing was a truly major event for me. It changed everything. Fear, coupled with shame and anger at being so afraid, propelled me from the house and out into the street and then deserted me completely. I found my way to the High Street and stood on the pavement watching the world go past. Where to go?

I couldn’t stay here. Everyone knew my grandmother, therefore, everyone knew me. I turned left for the airbus station. I would buy a ticket to . . . somewhere. In the meantime, I needed to survey my resources.

Actually, I was astonished at the really rather large sum of money I’d grabbed. Given the way she doled it out in pitifully small amounts whenever I went shopping and snarled at me if she thought there was insufficient change, there was a lot of money here. I could go almost anywhere.

I stuffed it all back into my bag before anyone saw it, bought myself a coffee and sat down on a bench to think. There was one of those holographic news and advertising boards on the wall. I sipped my coffee and watched the adverts slide by. Cheap airship travel, the latest blockbuster holos, Parrish Industries, cheap loans, national news, international news – image after image flickered by while the words slid past at the bottom of the screen. It was all on a continuous loop and I think I watched it twice before it registered.

The Time Police were recruiting. And they especially wanted women.