Martin’s Barber Shop had been in the town for as long as anybody could remember; a basic, no-nonsense hairdressers next to the Capital cinema just near to the town centre. Its owner, Marten Hiss had been a German paratrooper in the war and had ended up in a POW camp nearby. He had been captured after crashing feet first through the roof of Mavis’s Hairdressing Salon and landing trouser-less astride the poor owner, as she sat naked on her bed, painting her toes bright red. Mavis never recovered from the shock and her legs would twitch involuntarily whenever she heard anything spoken in German. It was also a defining moment for Hiss who, in an instance, knew exactly what he wanted to do with…