We could start by booking the community hall near the library — not for meetings, god knows we’ve had enough of those, but for knitting. Older women still go to knitting groups, no one questions them. We turn up with wool and bad coffee and slowly, stitch by stitch, pass notes wrapped around needles. It’s slow, it’s boring, it works. If we’re clever, we stitch codes into the patterns — not much, just dates, times, initials. By the time they notice, half the town will be carrying our plan in their handbags. And honestly? They’ll never suspect Brenda from Stockport. She’s been smuggling spare insulin out of A&E for years.
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