Birdie is 75 and lives on a diet of chocolate in a high rise on an East End estate. She longs for the action of her youth when she did her bit in the war. But when the estate erupts in a riot, she finds herself in the thick of it again - just like the night Hitler bombed Beckton gas works. Birdie tells her story with the humour and toughness of a survivor and if you like Alan Bennett's 'Talking Heads', you'll enjoy this.
So now I've got the microwave in my living room, and I bring everything through about four o'clock - bottles, chockie supplies, crisps for the Goofer - so I don't have to go into the kitchen after dark. I might put broken glass on my window sill as well, just in case he tries anything. It's getting like the siege of ruddy Mafeking, living around here. And I've got empty flats either side of me. Dawn's gone to her sister's in Romford, and Patti's on remand for stolen credit cards.