A gaudy enemy

"Brainwashing?" spat Armstrong. "You call what we were doing brainwashing? Well I'd like to know what you call those bloody places, if it's not brainwashing." He shook his head, angry.

Alice and Margaret, puzzled, looked to Molly.

"He means the supermarket," she explained. Their expressions said, "ah, ok..." and then they both looked even more puzzled.

"Too bloody right I do," Armstrong growled. "I mean, you go in there and it's totally over-the-top. It's all bright colours, bright lights, and so much of everything - they've even got their own sodding radio station. And all trying to put you in some kind of trance so you buy more than you need. If that's not brainwashing, then I don't know what is."

He sat back in his chair, his arms folded. "We were just fighting fire with fire, that's all."

"Hmm," said Molly. "Thought that would be how you see things. Thing is, Phil Armstrong, even if all the things you say are true, folk can still walk out if they don't like it. With the brainwashing you do, there's no choice in the matter, is there."

Again, Armstrong's bluster melted into sheepishness. "Look, Hewson assured us it wouldn't harm anyone. Told us the Major had guaranteed it. I mean, everyone talks about wanting to save the high street, and buy from local businesses, but it's too easy not to. We just wanted to give them a little ... helping hand, that's all."



Part Three begins here.