The EscapeGoing into the ladies cloakroom at Tower Hill tube station, she removed her plain eye glasses, blue coat, brunette wig, high heel shoes and beige pencil skirt. Placing them into a plastic shopping bag. She pulls out a black jump suit, black and red bomber jacket and red pair of trainers, from her bag and put them on. Brushing her hair and putting a bit of lippy on she ducks out and tosses the shopping bag into a nearby clothing recycling bin. Within two weeks they’ll be on sale in Albania or Africa. Recycling is great, she smirks. She walked away to find the Docklands Light Railway (DLR) line.
Sitting on the train, on her way to London City Airport, she feels pleased with herself. That bloody traitor David needed killing. Done the UK government a favour, didn’t I, she chuckled.
