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Pauline Bryce Diary

Jan 14th

Two more of the creeps come in the shop today. These ones don’t even bother buying anything, they just hang around waiting for Robson, smoking those shitty little cigars and jangling the change in the pockets of their macs. In the end he turns up and takes them down to the cellar and a bit later they all come up together and go out. The creeps are looking shifty but Robson’s shoving a bundle of twenties into his pocket and he’s laughing and joking and saying he’ll get them a drink down the road. I wait a bit to make sure he’s not coming back then I take his keys and go down and have a look around. It’s disgusting. His ‘special stock’. I can’t believe some of the stuff. Kids, animals, you name it. It makes me feel sick. All the way home I’m thinking about threatening him – the money for London or I tell the police. But I’ve seen his nasty side, so for now that’s Plan B. I can’t see me needing it, though. Not with the Plan A I’ve come up with. Like that feature says – use what you’ve got.