Plastic Bagger Ban
by Daniel Guy (A specially requested sequel to a previous story - Giovanni Plastics.) ‘Shattowe Bertrand, seel-voo-play.’ says Martin Littlejohn in a thin, nervous voice with a faint Birmingham accent. The French taxi driver sighs and nods and off they go, passing fields of languedoc vines and pretty green hills littered with cypress trees. Martin is forty-three and works in a bank. He’s slightly overweight but otherwise not bad-looking, and his pale blue eyes and tufty bown hair suggest an easy-going and honest man. His wife and two young kids think he’s on a three day management course in Manchester, but he’s here in the south of France, alone. The warm mediterranean sun is setting as Martin steps out of the taxi and looks up at the imposing entrance to Chateau Bertrand. It’s ancient, ornate and grand, built three hundred years ago, standing on a gentle hill, looking out onto acres of lush green vines. Imposing tall trees stand alongside...