Saturday 3 September 2011

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Suffice to say that crows don't like me.

There's a gadget shop down the road with a window display full of stuffed toys concealing cameras, motion sensors and microphones. Deep in his heart the owner really wanted to own a pet shop or work in a zoo but it could never be. He discovered this on applying to train as a veterinarian. "It wouldn't be appropriate for you to work with animals" they had told him. Nothing else, just that, but he was a compliant type and accepted their words on trust. These were professionals after all. So he took the only other path open to him and joined MI5.

The service, once he'd graduated and gone through basic training, was a grave disappointment. He was promised long, in-depth analysis of international affairs but instead found dawn chases through foggy streets and cold nights in Berlin closets. There were perks of course but sex with glamorous double agents was never really his bag and without burning too many bridges he jacked it all in after only five years.

Those bridges would come in useful when the shop got off the ground. A steady stream of international personnel passed through to pick up whatever gizmos their own people couldn't, or wouldn't, provide.

I plucked up the courage to go in myself once. It's a bizarre experience. As the door closes the street sounds are silenced and the electronic eyes of a hundred cuddly toys activate. You've stepped into the jungle and it's not your jungle.

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