The Wasted Life Swindle

My first proper diary – Book Two

March 1988 – September 1988

This is the second and final “lost punk” diary. After this one finishes, the next book marks the beginning of the shift – the occult shop visits start, the seven-month ritual begins, and within a year I’m on the other side of the world. But here we’re still stuck in the nihilism, the unemployment office, the car I lived in, and the slow, painful crawl toward something that might one day resemble a future.

---

[Sticker on outside]
Book Two – still trying to waste it properly.

Front cover note
“The Wasted Life Swindle – Part Two”

Monday 21st of March, 1988

Time: 10.20 PM

Well, it’s a new book for a new start. I’m still waiting for my (unemployment) claim to be processed, but I did get a giro for a fiver as a refund for a prescription I paid out.

The DHSS want to know why I left my last job, and the CAB told me all the times I was working seven days a week on night shift, he (my past boss) was breaking the Health and Safety at Work Act, Unemployment of Young Persons Act, etc. So I should have a good chance of getting it.

I went to say hello to mum when she came back from holiday and saw the dreaded Tierney. We hung out with each other for a couple of days, but then one day I was supposed to meet him in town, but I never turned up because I was too tired, and I haven’t heard from him again. I started writing a book called Severed Cords to pass the time, and that’s keeping me busy.

It’s going okay at the moment, and Geoff said he’s got contacts in the publishing world, which I’ll believe when I see it. I lost my old driving licence, so I’ve applied for a new one, and I sent off for a driving test any time after June 30th. Now for photos and letters, etc, I recently acquired.

[Photos later removed] That was the roadshow I mentioned in a book. Me at the instrument, mental and physical torture, shrink wrapping machine, Jonathan Pine, Mark, Steve, and Jason, better known as The Shitheads. A letter from a certificate for free NHS prescriptions with the comment, ‘Oh goody, I’m entitled to a free wig.’ A word search with the banned sex pistols in it. Picture of Sid Vicious, hand-drawn.

Tuesday 22nd of March, 1988

Time: 3.45 PM

My giro finally came this morning.

The letters [which were stuck in the diary] are self-explanatory. The full amount was about 60 pounds because they backdated the claim.

Wednesday 23rd of March, 1988

Time: 11.15 PM

My driving test can’t come back today, and it’s for July the 6th.

Mum says she hasn’t enough money for the car. I subscribed to this magazine a while back called The Receding Fragment. It’s full of anarchist poems and artwork, ect. I copied a poem from the back of my sex pistol book and sent it in, and Andy, the publisher, just wrote back to me saying he’s gonna publish it in the next issue.

I sent for a 10-year passport, but lost my name change certificate, so I thought I might go to Peterborough to get it personally, but I can’t find a map, though.

The Great Wasted Life Swindle

Lesson Two.

Ensure you have no future or are ever likely to regain one. This is very important when wasting your life. It makes sure if you ever change your mind or grow up, it’s too late.

In my case, I threw away any chance of gaining CSEs or O-levels. It also enforces true commitment to wasting your life. Once you throw away everything, it shows you believe what you preach.

Similar in a way to marriage, discarding all of the women and devoting your whole life to one woman you love, ha ha.

Saturday 26th of March, 1988

Time: 2.50 AM

I decided to send a name change document rather than go in person, just in case they don’t issue it the same day. I got another giro for 18 pounds, approximately, for unemployment.

I think I’m now entitled to 20 a week, but I’m not too sure because the new system is too complicated. Incidentally, I never believed in artificially prolonging your life beyond its natural span, so I might become a Jehovah’s Witness. Note various letters and documents mostly relating to benefits are pasted here.

Monday 25th of April, 1988

Time: 12.15 AM

I decided not to become a Jehovah’s Witness when I learned you have to give up smoking. On the 14th of April, I saw Matthew Topp downtown. He’s a bloke from school.

He’s gonna ring me up on Tuesday, but I might have something planned then. A couple of weeks ago, I opened a current account at Lloyds and they sent me a chequebook. Then I bought a book all about interpreting dreams, and it was quite interesting.

Then I had an idea to start a company called [name withheld]. Now, I’m gonna interpret people’s dreams by post for three pounds a time. I put an advert in Time Out, which should be published this Wednesday, and also put one in Exchange and Mart for a week on Thursday.

By the laws of average, I worked out that I should make the following cash. Total readership of both publications is 2,070,000. If 0.01% of people reply, that’s 2,070 orders times three is a grand total of 6,210 pounds, but somehow I doubt it.

I was going to do graphology, analysing handwriting, but Geoff put me off it. When I wake up, I can’t ever remember my dreams, and I don’t think other people can either, so I probably won’t get no orders. Mind you, I only need 22 orders to get back my money.

But it’s only 11 days to my birthday, and me and Geoff are going down the car auction just to get me a motor. I’m going to London on May 10th, Sid’s birthday, and we’ll have a bit of a booze up, I think. [Comment, there’s a cheque from Lloyds Bank I’ve written to John Lydon for eight million pounds, not cashed.]

Wednesday 27th of April, 1988

Time: 5.10 AM

My rubber stamp for the business came, and I bought a date stamp. Good, innit? Matthew Topp rang up last night. He’s coming over at 2 p.m., plus bringing records.

Time Out sent my advert for the order back because I worked out the cost wrong, too much. I sent it back a few days ago, but whether it’ll be in the next one today depends on whether they hold the space or they risk the cheque not cashing.

Time: 10.39 AM

I just got Time Out, and I’m not in it, so I should be in next week, or the day before I’m in Exchange and Mart.

I just got my photos back, so I’ll stick them in. [Comment, there’s various titles of pictures which are no longer there.]

Tuesday 3rd of May, 1988

Time: 1.25 PM

Matthew came, and we’re meeting on Thursday in the record department in the centre.

I’m writing in biro because I can’t find my fountain pen. I came to Mum’s house every day to do some work. I just saw Colson by the Arbours Bridge.

I was in the same room with him when we went skiing with school in 83. Geof hasn’t got the car yet. I’ll bring it out later.

My giro is due Wednesday, but it didn’t come. I had this dream the other night, and when I interpreted it, it said failure in the new business.

Wednesday 4th of May, 1988

I’m at Mum’s again.

I saw Tiana walking up, not the one me and Adam know, the one Kevin went out with in middle school. I still haven’t found my fountain pen. Only two days to my birthday, and Geoff’s mate said I’ll definitely have a motor by the weekend, and it could be a Polo!

Topp’s ringing up tonight to confirm our meeting tomorrow, the same day when I should be published in Time Out and Exchange and Mart. I might buy some yeast, sugar, et cetera, and make my own moonshine. Also, my gold stickers came back this morning, and I’m gonna use them as letterheads.

[A sample sticker, i.e. name and address, for my new business stuck in here.]

Good, innit? I got 1,000 for a fiver.

Friday 6th of May, 1988

Time: 9.45 PM Friday.

I found my fountain pen. The moonshine I made spilled out everywhere and soaked through the ceiling. It’s my birthday today.

I got 80 pounds, and Geoff said he’d definitely have the car here by the weekend. I was in Time Out and Exchange and Mart, and I’m going to London on the 10th, Tuesday. [Comment: clipping from Exchange and Mart and the clipping from Time Out.]

Thursday 12th of May, 1988

Time: 1.05 AM

Damn, no replies from the business. I went to London on Sid’s birthday. I nearly got kicked in by a street trader outside Harrods because he thought I was gonna nick his cash.

It was the first time I’d ever been to London, and not enjoyed myself. It wasn’t because of the street trader. It was just boring for some reason.

The highest point was feeding the sparrows on a bench under a tree near the Serpentine in Hyde Park. Yasmin came today and we started talking again, but her and Geoff had fell out because she bought him some speed and ripped him off. A giro came this morning for 60 pounds.

They finally decided I was entitled to the full amount of 32 pounds a week. The only problem is it gets stopped if I refuse to go on a YTS in September for 27.50 a week. Thatcher is a complete bastard.

[Something’s deleted here.] The biggest news at the moment is that Geoff bought me the car home. The problem here being I’ll have to pay for tax, insurance, alarm, crook lock, cassette player, window etcher, and I don’t know if I’ve got enough.

I suppose I’ll find it from somewhere. Me and Matthew formed a group called The Twats and we’re recording our first song, Up Yours Mate, in a week on Thursday in my bedroom. The moonshine I made spilled out everywhere and soaked through the ceiling.

I’ve got some stuff to stick in, but I’ve run out of glue. I’ll have to wait. I’ll go to the cinema. I go to the cinema a lot now.

Monday 16th of May, 1988

Time: 2.08 AM

I still haven’t got any glue and the stuff’s mounting up. Guess who called on Friday? Darren Tierney. He didn’t stay long. He gave me some cash from his wages to show off. I showed him my car to show off, then he went home.

The cheapest quote I got for my insurance was 230 pounds. I’m gonna get it later today after I’ve been to bed. I’ll get some L plates and polish et cetera as well. Topp’s ringing up on Wednesday.

I wrote to the band, The Wedding Present, who are in the independent charts and they wrote back to me with a handwritten letter. Geoff told me that if I killed myself, the family would be split up and would never talk to each other and I’ve been feeling guilty ever since. I think Anne mentioned mum’s coming out tomorrow. I must remember that and get some glue.

Tuesday 17th of May, 1988

Time: 9.25 PM

I got the glue. Here’s the backlog. [Note, various things stuck in, mostly about benefits.]

Same day.
I saw Matthew outside Halfords yesterday. We were going out Thursday.

Tomorrow, I’m gonna book lessons for the car and insure it. Geoff gave me a lesson yesterday. Anne’s been on at me all day because I got car polish everywhere!

[Note, one unreadable page here.]

Saturday 28th of May, 1988

Time: 12.30 AM

Matthew arranged to come, then said I’d have to make it later, but I had to go down the insurance firm so it wasn’t worth it. He’s gonna ring me on his next day off.

Tierney’s been twice. The first time, I showed him the car. The second, we went downtown.

I got the car insured and I spent most of the week doing it out. I’m taking Anne to the garden centre, well, sort of, near Peterborough on Tuesday and to Sywell on Wednesday. I’ve had three professional driving lessons already and I’ve done the three-point turn, roundabouts, dual carriageways, et cetera, and if I pass my test, Tierney and Matthew are going to Blackpool to celebrate.

I’ll be living in the car soon and I’m gonna start kitting it out by buying a sleeping bag on Monday. Tomorrow, well, later today, I suppose, just taking me out in it. A new series of Network 7 is on later. I think that’s my favourite programme.

A few days ago, Anne got out of her chair with a hand caught in the handbag strap and fell sprawled on the floor. She was so fat she couldn’t get up. I haven’t laughed so much in ages. My next driving lesson is on Tuesday at 9 a.m. [Note, ripped page here], but it’s on 11-6-88. I had a two-hour lesson today. That was quite good.

The other day when I went to sign on, the woman made me look at all the jobs and I had to say no to all of them. I don’t know if there’ll be trouble there.

I started drawing and painting now. I got this step-by-step art school book. It is quite good fun.

I’m going flat out now to complete the book now. I’m writing most of it on my typewriter now, instead of the word processor. [There’s a picture of my car there.]

[Reference to an absent picture here]

Same day. Oh yeah, I just remembered. A while ago, I think I wrote about Tina Tottenham, the girl who blew kisses from the bus and whose red purse I still got.

I saw her sister today near the pub when I was on my driving lesson. That was Michelle Tottenham. She was a bit of a classroom joke at school. We only saw her a few days each term at school. She was hardly ever there.

Thursday 7th of July, 1988

Time: 1.45 AM

It was my test today and I failed.

Looking in retrospect, it’s quite funny now. I had a lesson in the morning and the test was at 3.30 p.m. I was driving all right, really, and I know my highway code. Anyway, I got to the test centre and I sat in the waiting room.

I didn’t feel that nervous, but that might be on account of me smoking half a packet of Park Lane. And they weren’t even mine. Then all the instructors came out and this woman called my name.

By this time, I was nervous and I couldn’t hold the pen properly to say my name, so I had to get over it. Then we went on the test and the main things I failed on were my reversing into a main side road. I didn’t look forward as the car straightened up but almost hit one car.

Then we stopped on a hill and I had to pull off but I forgot to put it in gear, so I rolled right back to the botom until I realised what I’d done. I also got some questions wrong. I got another application, but I haven’t made up my mind yet as to whether I’ll try again.

I have to reconsider my position. The other day on a lesson, I saw Michael Menzies, a Cockney kid from school. Just thought I’d mention it.

???? back on Monday for two weeks, or is it one? I’ve got another bank statement somewhere but I can’t find it. I started babysitting for Yasmin again and we’re going to town next week. [Note, there’s a statement of failing the driving test pasted.]

Monday 11th of July, 1988

Time: 1.15 AM

I found my bank statement, so I thought I might as well stick them in. I found some old membership cards and stuff and I’ll put this in as well. [Membership card for the National Pets Club here.]

I remember when and how I got this. I was reading in the Daily Mirror at the time. It said I have to join the Pets Club. When I read my membership form, I saw that if you’re introduce 25 members, you get the Silver Paw Award. So I told Matthew Topp about it and got him to join. I said about the Silver Paw and we went to see the headmaster to see if we could give a talk about it in assembly to get more members.

We were at middle school at the time. Anyway, we did and we got the members and I got the award. The only problem was we were in the fourth year at the time. By the time the membership cards came through, I was in the upper school. I’ve still got them.

[Note, now there’s a British Junior Alpine Ski Test Award and an Angling Times membership card with the comment, this was on the skiing holiday at school. And then there’s a skiing test card and there’s a sticker from the Angling Times with the comment, I got this in 82. I hate fishing now. It’s too cruel.]

[There’s one cutting about sex pistols and a membership card from my brother for a nightclub and a bank statement and a good luck card from my mother about my driving test, which says, thinking of you and keeping my fingers crossed, love mum.]

Tuesday 19th of July, 1988

Time: 6.35 AM

I went downtown to sign on yesterday. I was sitting reading in the graveyard in St. Charles Street and I saw Stephen.

He’s one of the kids I went skiing with. Now he’s working at Jones the Furniture, but when he’s 18, he’s going into real estate. We went to the Bull & Butcher and spent the whole day in there.

We got talking about motorbikes. Now I’m meeting him tonight at 7 p.m. at the old school to see if he wants to buy mine. I’ll update tomorrow morning.

I’m not too sure where the garage key is and it’d be a bastard if I can’t find it. Yasmin’s gonna try and get £200 off mum that she owes me. I finished my first chequebook, so I’ll stick in all the counterfoils and some other stuff.

Anne’s still in bed now, but it’ll be a row when we get up because I think she has thrown away my best trousers. And also when I get back from the pub straight to bed, she emptied my carrier bag I’d brought back and went through all my stuff to see where I’d been. I hate it when she does that. Nosy bitch.

The Northampton show was here for three days last Friday and I went once with Geoff, then I went again on my own on Saturday. When I was on my own, I was watching the wrestling and I saw Tina and Michelle Tottenham.

Then I saw Ginger, the drug pusher, at the fair. Then when I was waiting for the firework display, I saw Gareth Turner. I used to go fishing with Turner and he’s a mod. I’d just taken seven pounds worth of speed before and he said I looked like death warmed up. He’s working in the Anglia Building Society now in Weston Favell Centre. Believe it or not, he ain’t on a YTS, although he used to be.

I also saw Dale in the arcade. He’s mentioned in the photo earlier. Then I saw Janice Norton, who used to babysit for me as a kid. She was running the Save the Children stall. That’s about it for now. [There’s a clip about the Jesus Army, a clipping about Joe Strummer.] Yasmin went to see that, but I didn’t.

I was thinking of driving the car away tonight and living in it. I’m not too sure what I’ll do. I’ve passed the moving deadline, so I’ll have to do something.

Monday 8th of August, 1988

Time: 4.05 AM

I’ve lost my fountain pen again. I moved out into my car on Friday.

I waited until about four in the morning to then drive down to a lay-by nearby Yas. I slept over at Yasmin’s the first night because I was babysitting, but last night I stayed in the car. I sat in it in the day, and there were these two kids selling potatoes nearby, and they kept looking at me.

I got boiling hot in the car, and I walked over to Mum’s house, and I watched Brookside. While I was waiting for it to come on, this kid walked in with his suitcases. It turned out he’s lodging there for three weeks before going back to Bournemouth, where he comes from.

He’s working up at the Willow Tree, Mum’s new pub, and was going to go home, because his rent was too high, so Brian said that he could stay in his house in a rare charitable gesture. I can’t remember his name. I introduced myself.

Then Mum came back and called me Jason, and he looked completely confused. Anyway, I went back to the car, and I put newspapers up over the windows and settled down to sleep. At about two in the morning, I felt a light going over my face.

Then someone banged on the door and called, “Open up, police!” So I opened the door, and they kept asking me about what I was doing. I could only remember because I was still half asleep.

Then they searched the car, and ran my name through the computer, and they asked me if I’d ever been in any trouble before, and if I’d been drinking. I told them I was chucked out of home, and they apologised and said that usually when you find a car with all the windows taped up, there’s someone inside committing suicide. He then said that every time a police car comes past, they’ll also search the car.

And if the local yobbos find me, I’ll get kicked in. By the way, there were two pigs, one PC plus one WPC. So I sat up that night and waited until morning, then I drove to Billing.

I was lucky the pigs didn’t ask to see my licence. When I got to Billing, it was about 4 a.m. and still pitch black, and I was too early to get in to Billing. So I thought I’d walk up to Ecton for something to do.

I took a shortcut through these massive fields, and the ground was covered in thick mist, and this owl kept hooting. There wasn’t a soul about, and it was like something out of a horror movie. Then I was trapped there, because I was surrounded by deep marshland.

In the end, I got back to the car and I got into Billing. The man on the gate knew me, and I told him I was gonna wait for mum, but I didn’t. If he tells her I’m on the site, she might get me chucked off.

I slept down at Ann’s last night so I could watch Network 7, which I’d taped, and it said the Sex Pistols had been offered a lot of money to reform by a Japanese businessman, but they were not (going to). I went to a Weston Favell shopping centre on Saturday and saw that girl I know from school, Rachel, and also saw Steven Pinter working there. I’m going back to the car now, and I might go and see Yasmin later.

Thursday 11th of August, 1988

Time: 3.30 AM

I found the fountain pen. Jeff’s back. I’m back at Ann’s.

Boo-hoo. It’s a long story how I got back, so I’ll start at the start. I was in the car at about 6 a.m., and I thought I’ll go and see Yaz.

I came back at 11 a.m., and I left my lights on so the battery was flat so it wouldn’t start. I was sitting there trying to think what to do when a security van drove up and asked me if it was my car. Some twat had called the police, suspecting it was stolen.

I showed them Yasmin’s staff pass, which she’d lent me, and they checked up on it, so I had to talk my way out of it. A recovery man then gave me a jump start, and I could move it elsewhere on the site. I sat there till dark, then drove, and then just drove off the site to avoid detection.

I thought I’d wait till about 2 a.m., then drive back to Ann’s to recharge the battery. Then Brian drove up and made me park at the mill and took the keys off me, so now I’m stranded back here. I was walking at the babysitter the other night, and I saw Adam Winkworth, the kid I used to go banking off with at Abington Park, driving around in a 2,500-pound car.

He said he was working with Courier Express now. I got a new driving test date, 13th of October, 1988. That’s about it for now.

Tuesday 16th of August, 1988

Time: 2.20 PM

I was supposed to have a driving lesson today at about 11 a.m., but I forgot. Janet, the instructor, had been on holiday, and she didn’t come in to see where I was, so she might not be back yet. I had to go and register yesterday, and they made me apply for a job.

I went out in my camouflage jacket yesterday, and people from the Jesus Army kept coming up to me and talking, thinking I was one of them. Jeff drove the car back for me yesterday, so I could finally get my clothes back. That’s about it for now, I think.

[Comment, there’s a sticker from the Northampton Education Department Careers Service. And something from the DHSS about holiday payments.]

Wednesday 24th of August, 1988

Time: 5.50 AM

My driving lesson was today.

I got it wrong. Yasmin came today for a chat. Ann was acting really weird.

I woke up to the sound of this loud banging. When I came down, Ann was opening and closing the back door and laughing. I’m going downtown later.

I can’t think of anything else to say. Here are some letters. Note various letters.

Wednesday 24th August 1988, time 5.50am.

My driving lesson was today, I got it wrong. Yasmin came today for a chat. Anne was acting really weird.

I woke up to the sound of this loud buzzing. When I came down, Anne was opening and closing the back door and laughing. I’m going downtown later.

I can’t think of anything else to say. Here are some letters. [Comment: letter about vehicle licencing application. Bank statement. A cutting about Rock and Roll and The Clash. An article about Joe Strummer.]

Monday 5th September, 1988

time 4.24am. Not so much to report really. I saw Catherine from the Factory downtown the other day. She’s getting evicted and found out she’s accidentally pregnant.

My last giro arrived on Saturday. The form to put your name on the electoral register came and Anne put my name on it, so I’ll have to pay the bastard poll tax now. Because my income is nil, I’ll have to pay it out of my savings until they run out, then go to prison.

Great. I’m in a very philosophical mood at the moment, pondering on the questions of life.

Monday 12th September, 1988

time 6.55pm. Anne’s gone away to see friends for two days, till Thursday now, so I’m staying at mum’s house now.

I went downtown Saturday and saw Mandy Fudge. She was at the activity holiday mentioned in book one. She was going around with a very dodgy looking skinhead.

I also saw Julie and Tina Tottenham on my last driving test. That was in The Drapery. I think I’m getting a bit bored and I’m thinking of doing some voluntary work.

I’m going downtown tomorrow, so I’ll find out about it then. It’s nice to be on my own again, but I’ve run out of food. That’s about it.

Over and out. [Comment to Lloyd’s Bank statements.]

Sunday 25th September, 1988

time 2.35am. I’m back at Anne’s now.

I saw Jenny Slack at Oakleys, (a kid from school), talking to some skinheads. She was outside this house holding a baby, more than likely hers. I’ll probably meet Yasmin on Monday and I’ve got a driving lesson on Tuesday.

I don’t really like being back at Anne’s but I’ve got the feeling I wasn’t too welcome at mum’s. I’m starting to feel really low for some reason. Can’t think of nothing else.

Over and out.

---

About the short AI film – Book Two chapter (or extended single film)

Option 1 – a standalone 60–90-second second chapter that follows straight on from Book One.
Option 2 – merge both books into one 2–3 minute film (recommended). The new material adds the car, the dream-business failure, living rough, and the first tiny cracks of change.

Additional scenes for the extended / second-chapter film

Scene 7 – The Car (new freedom, new cage)
“1988 small English town, teenage boy proudly polishing a battered red Vauxhall Chevette in a council-house street, L-plates, cheap cassette player blasting The Wedding Present, weak sunlight, first taste of independence – but he’s still wearing the same tired eyes”

Scene 8 – Living in the Car
“Night, newspapers taped over windows from inside, torchlight, boy curled up under a sleeping bag in the back seat, police torch beam sweeping across the glass, sudden banging on the window, tense silence”

Scene 9 – The Driving Test Fail
“Slow-motion comedy of errors: car rolling backwards down a hill, examiner’s horrified face, boy lighting a cigarette with shaking hands in the test centre car park afterwards”

Scene 10 – First Sparks of Change
“Boy sitting on a bench feeding sparrows in Hyde Park, soft moment of peace; cut to him staring at a tiny occult-shop flyer that has somehow appeared among the Sex Pistols clippings on his bedroom floor”

Scene 11 – Fade Out
“Final morph: the Chevette parked under a palm tree years later, diary open on the passenger seat, tropical sunlight pouring in, the white coat long gone”

Sound

Continue the lo-fi cassette “Anarchy in the UK” → gentle ambient transition, but now add faint car-engine sounds, police radio chatter, and the distant clatter of a typewriter as the occult future begins to leak in.

---

Graphic-novel version – additional pages (25–48)

Continuing directly from the first 24 pages in the same muted 1980s British realist style.

25. Boy polishing his first car with pride and exhaustion, L-plates, cassette player on the roof blasting indie music
26. Close-up of rubber stamp and gold stickers arriving in the post – the doomed dream-interpretation business
27. Boy in bedroom surrounded by unopened letters – zero replies, crushing disappointment
28. Driving-test waiting room, chain-smoking Park Lane cigarettes borrowed from someone else
29. Hilarious/sad slow-motion panel sequence of the test fail – rolling backwards down the hill
30. Boy feeding sparrows in Hyde Park, rare moment of calm, soft watercolor greens
31. Boy asleep in the back of the car, newspapers over windows, police torch beam cutting through
32. Mist-shrouded fields at 4 a.m., owl hooting, horror-movie atmosphere
33. Boy typing late at night on an old manual typewriter – writing Severed Cords
34. First appearance of an occult flyer slipping out of a magazine among the punk clippings
35. Boy standing outside the tiny Northampton occult shop for the very first time – hesitant, bell above the door
36. Final morph panel sequence: Chevette parked under palm trees, diary open, tropical light, the boy now older, smiling faintly
37. (Cover for Book Two) The battered red Chevette at night with newspaper-covered windows, torchlight beam hitting the glass, title “The Wasted Life Swindle – Book Two” scrawled in biro across the windscreen

More pages will be added as they’re generated.