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About Almere

*“Lord, forgive us,”* like Ida’d whisper, but this bird, she don’t pray – she survives. Caught her nickin’ a sandwich from a bin – “Gotta eat, Oz!” she grinned, all cheeky. Surprised me, that grit, proper gobsmacked. Reminds me of Ida’s silence, that quiet strength, but with a filthy laugh and a “sod off” for coppers. *Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!”* She’s a riot, swear down, once kicked a geezer’s shin for hagglin’ – “I ain’t a bleedin’ car boot sale!”