Hattie couldn’t remember the point when men stopped noticing her, when construction workers no longer whistled and catcalled. Bur one day, while she was out buying a newspaper, she noticed a sense of ease, a relaxation of the shoulders.
Then she discovered she could deftly extract strangers’ wallets. Nobody saw her.
She tried lifting a diamond tiara from Johnstone’s Jewellers. Nobody saw her.
Governments began to offer contracts of extraordinary delicacy. It was dangerous, of course, but paid lavishly.
One spring afternoon, her grandson walked right through her.
“Well, bugger me,” she said. “I’ve passed on and nobody told me.”