Quickly, she closed the bag.
Five hundred dollars!
The freak at her side was trying to start the car, pressing the starter button and muttering to himself.
She was free! Like the fish hawk! She wouldn’t have to have this freak moaning and groaning on top of her!
Five hundred dollars!
She opened the car door and got out.
“Hey!” He stared up at her as she slammed the car door. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but with you,” she said and walked away.
Later, again sitting on the stone bench at the end of the harbour with the fish hawk circling above her, she opened the envelope with trembling, expectant fingers.
The envelope contained no money.
At least one member of the Fifty Club had courage.
Written on the expensive, embossed notepaper of the Club in firm, flowing handwriting was the message: Go to hell!
The End
1971 - Want to Stay Alive Page 19