They won't remember me now,
those people who did a small thing
to nudge me towards a way out,
and a better way of living.
Dave Kett, who marked my final exam
three times to find an extra point
or two, just to get me through.
Katz had been his family name,
they Anglicised it after they fled.
He watched me sometimes
in class, pretending to be light-hearted.
I was making my escape
and I wouldn't waste that pass.
Before that there was Vicky,
a thug's wife who dressed like Hepburn.
John beat her something chronic
as they toured the bars of Brighton.
One night, in The Cricketers,
she spotted my reflection
in the mirror behind the optics.
She unhooked herself from John
and, heading for the juke box,
she grabbed my arm in passing.
Suddenly, she was lucid:
"Leave now, while you're young."
She never looked at me again.
