I dunno. But today I met up with a plumber who I had seen last week and he asked me what to do with his bitcoin. So I go to meet him at the angling club where he has his head in his phone. I joke, to grab his attention, that he's checking the charts, but he mumbles and shows me his phone. It looks fake, I say. No, it's real, he says; they caught him jumping the border and they chopped them off, he says. The picture was of somebody's ten toes - cut cleanly behind the knuckles. A little bit of blood in the grass. Left to hobble home on the heels and ankles, I suppose. He then said something, but I couldn't hear. We sat next to each other and talked about bitcoin for about twenty minutes until a grey heron arrived and the plumber said his name is Harry, and it's dinner time.