To his left were four tables facing out lengthways from the wall. They looked for the entire world like the roll out mortuary slabs that you see on every police show ever made. The look was made complete by the shrouded figure that lay on top of each of them.
“Creepy,” he muttered to himself.
The far wall was floor to ceiling shelves, on each of which was what could only be described as the remnants of a boot fair. They were rammed full of all sorts of crap from old plastic weight training discs and parts of a lawn mower to the mother board of a ZX Spectrum and a battered jigsaw of Big Ben that had more missing pieces than Hadrian's Wall. And even though it wasn't immediately apparent, you could pretty much guarantee that hidden amongst all the detritus would be a battered copy of Stephe
