5 January 2004. Now what? Do I even want to think about it? The idea of it puts me off with its perversity and at the same time it turns me on. I can’t get it of my mind, how the colour went out of her and she shrivelled up and became dust. That was just a little tiny Justine. With a full-size one it’s a whole new ball game. And if I do it, where do we go from there?