The Braehead Mall was quiet, too quiet. Maybe it was the credit crunch, but maybe it was something more sinister? The man on the mobile phone had passed him before & so had the girl with the purple hair, they were on to him they had to be. Was it time to run? No that’s what they want, act normal.
He sipped his Cappuccino and casualy tried to pick up the other watchers. The woman with the pushchair? Maybe. The cleaner who had twice passed a disgarded drinks cup?
Maybe, just maybe, he had been reading too many spy novels.
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