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The MCTV (Manchester Community Television) studio, from which Walker’s Weekly was broadcast live (almost; there was a five-minute delay to allow for gaffes etc.), was housed in a large shed, on an industrial estate near Salford’s prestigious Media City.
Sandra and I pulled into the car park at about 9.00 p.m., two hours before the show was due to air. As I pulled up, I noticed a car drive slowly past the entrance of the studio car park.
Instinctively I knew what was going on.
“Someone’s been following us,” I told Sandra. “I’m going to see who it is.”
She put her hand on my wrist.
“Brad, please don’t do that. It might be the Skull Crusher again.”
I opened the door of the car.
“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” I told her. “Just remember, I gave him something to think about last
