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But then—bloody hell—some punter stiffed her, nicked off without payin’. Got me fumin’, mate! “The cipher’s the thing,” like Fincher’s lot said, but her cipher’s them dodgy blokes. Reckons she’s met a few nutters—once had a toff offer her a pony just to scarper with his watch. True story, swear down! Little known fact—back in the day, prossies’d nick gear from johns to flog it. Crafty, eh?

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First off, I head down to the beach. Hayling Island’s got this stunning stretch of sand, you know? I’m thinking, “Let’s get some inspiration for my pottery.” I grab my sketchbook and head to the seafront. But as I’m walking along the promenade, I trip over some kid’s bike. Like, come on! Who leaves their bike in the middle of the path? I’m all tangled up, and this kid just stares at me like I’m the one who’s lost it. Ugh!

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