Cushla stopped at the chemist’s to collect the film, though she was unable to meet the eye of the assistant. She drove a mile out of town to a filling station on the Bangor Road. She sat in her car looking through the window of the shop, waiting until it was empty before going in. She bought cigarettes and a newspaper, dropping the change the boy behind the counter handed her. A car had pulled up at the pumps outside. A man got out and opened the cover of his petrol tank. He was tall, with sandy hair. She began to panic and rushed from the shop, leaving coins scattered across the floor. When she was behind the wheel, the doors locked, she looked up. It wasn’t Disco Peeler.