For the occasion I dressed up in my GLUE YOU T-shirt and a pair of bright green Doc Marten’s with daisies painted on the toes. I got Tar to do the daisies for me after I saw his dandelions. He’s brilliant. They looked great. I have such enormous feet. Oh, and my tight, calf-length leggings. I had to wear a parka over the T-shirt though. It was a bit of a giveaway, really – GLUE YOU all over your chest and twenty tubes of Locktite in yer handbag.

Vonny dressed up as well in a sort of yellow and black stripy leotard and woolly tights that made her look rather like an enormous wasp, only of course far more attractive. I couldn’t get Jerry to dress up at all, although he wore the blackest clothes he could find. But he always wears black. He dyes his hair, which is a start. I tried to get him to wear some black eye shadow or mascara, on one eye at least, but he wouldn’t until Gemma joined in. He let her do it for him and I have to say he looked rather menacing. I expect he would have let me do it, only he thinks I might be gay. I’m not, in case you were wondering. I just play up to it. In fact, I’m celibate. I have been for five years now. It’s not the sex I object to – it’s the politics.

Gemma dressed up in her party dress and Vonny did her face for her like a forties film star – loads of powder and one of those Cupid’s bow mouths in shiny red lipstick. She wanted to wear a pair of high heels too but I had to veto it. Sometimes you have to run. As for Tar, he was willing enough but you could tell he found it hard going. Gemma wanted to dress him in drag, but it doesn’t do to attract too much attention. We let him off in the end. He obviously felt ludicrous enough as it was without having to look it.

This is the way it ought to be. Not Bonnie and Clyde. Not gangsters and the IRA and BANG BANG BANG you’re dead… really dead. More like Robin Hood. I mean the Disney version.

We got to Barclays and I went up to the door and wielded the superglue. That’s the easy bit – you just sidle up and go squirt squirt into the lock. By morning they’re LOCKED OUT and the money’s LOCKED IN.

They hate that.

It was writing the GLUE YOU logo on the door and the anarchist sign and getting the calling card through the letter box that was tricky. It takes time. Have you ever noticed that bank doors are always exposed? Try hiding in the shadows outside a bank sometime. There’s always a streetlight. They must have some deal with the Council.

Actually it wasn’t that tricky. You just wait until no one’s looking, but it always got Vonny a bit nervous. Banks do that to some people. If she had her way we’d just do the glue and then scarper.

You’ve no idea how much I enjoy doing this sort of thing. I could hear Gemma giggling as I did THIS IS A STICK-UP in green chalk. It was a lovely giggle. It sort of floated out of the shadows into the night air and I wished I could post that through the letter box, too. I had to be content with my calling cards. They’re not bad, though. I do them at home on my stencil set and colour them in by hand. There’s a nice little picture on each one of a character from my Golden Treasury of Nursery Rhymes.

Then I got a bit carried away finishing off the GLUE YOU logo, double colouring it with red chalk, and Vonny started pulling at me.

‘Come on, we’ve another fifteen to do,’ she hissed.

‘We’ve got all night,’ I said. But I put my chalks away and carried on up the road. No point in getting upset about it.

My tools are superglue and subversion. No one gets hurt, everyone has a good time, including my victims. They get the day off work. I never heard anyone complain about that.

Vonny sidled up to me outside the NatWest on Chisem Street and hissed, ‘Jerry’s smoking…’

I said, ‘Oh.’ I mean, what’s new? ‘When is Jerry not smoking?’ I enquired.

‘Yes, but he’s giving some to Gemma…’

I said, ‘Oh, dear.’

Vonny said, ‘What shall we do?’

I said, ‘Play it by ear.’ I posted my card and led the Outlaws up the road to HSBC, three shops further down. I ask you. What do you need four banks for on one street?

To be quite honest, I didn’t care one little bit if Gemma was smoking a bit of dope. Frankly, I’d rather Jerry didn’t smoke on a stick-up. If we get caught it just confuses the issue. It’s the sort of thing that gives them an excuse, something to latch on to. You know-drug-crazed punk anarchists glue banks…

But still, this is scarcely a military operation. And why shouldn’t he share it with Gemma? The reason why I said, ‘Oh dear,’ was that Vonny was having problems with it. The usual sort of thing. Gemma wanted to do one thing and Vonny wanted her to do another. It’s called politics.

I hate politics.

Vonny walked alongside me.

‘She’s only fourteen, you can imagine the mess the police or the press would make of it.’

‘Corrupting the youth of the nation, you mean?’

‘Exactly.’

I beamed. ‘But we are!’

The trouble is that Vonny comes out on a stick-up because she really does think we are affecting the financial running of the area. She thinks people will lose their money, the economy will get into trouble, that sort of thing.

Render unto Caesar, I say. I’m fishing for hearts and souls. The bank manager’s heart, the bank clerk’s, for Gemma’s and Tar’s, for Vonny’s… yes, and for yours, too. Go on – be a devil. Do your bit. Stay in bed today.

‘They’re still a bank,’ I pointed out.

They got glued.

Gemma and Jerry were having a good time by the sound of it. I was actually getting a little nervous myself. Her giggles were getting slightly hysterical and she was beginning to trip over things rather a lot. Vonny was getting extremely annoyed. She was walking in front of them glancing angrily over her shoulder. I gathered that Jerry had ignored her wishes not to get Gemma stoned. Tar was with Vonny and they were engaged in an intense-looking conversation, which I was willing to bet was political, and about Gemma.

Oh, dear.

It gets in everywhere.

When you walk down a high street in Bristol, you have so much going on around you. Butcher’s shops, for example. We were standing outside a butcher’s shop. I’m a vegan myself. It’s an issue. All around us the streetlights were blazing away, burning up the fossil fuels. Banks and insurance companies investing in death and disease. Chemists selling cosmetics that have been tested by being dripped in monkeys’ eyes. Plenty of opportunity for Vonny to spread a bit of political awareness.

And overhead the stars. It was a lovely night. When you stepped out and lifted up your head and looked up above the roofs and the traffic and the people you could hear the wind blowing in among the roofs and the stars overhead.

So what was Vonny doing?

Bending Tar’s ear about Gemma.

Just what he needed.

Just the thing to endear him to us. Just what he needed after spending fourteen years being brought up by two monsters.

Vonny is a lovely person. She’s ever so motherly, always bringing home stray cats and making biscuits and giving money to beggars. Always trying to make sure Jerry eats his veggies and washes his socks regularly and trying to make sure that things don’t go to your head and that you don’t giggle too loud.

I love her but sometimes I suspect her of being a closet Communist.

If I can get just a couple of bank clerks to start thinking they might as well stay in bed a bit more often, then I’ve done something to change the world. And if I can do it wearing enormous green boots with daisies painted on the toes, all the better.

I have to say it wasn’t the most successful stick-up I’ve ever done. There were too many distractions. Vonny was livid by the time we got home and Tar looked as though he’d been gimleted with a blunt skewer. I must have a word with him.

Gemma could barely stand up. Lovely life, isn’t it, sometimes?

‘How do you think her parents feel?’ asked Vonny. ‘They were just keeping her in. It’s not like Tar, is it?’

Well. The thing was, Vonny had a point.