AccessMyLibrary provides FREE access to over 30 million articles from top publications available through your library.
Create a link to this page
Copy and paste this link tag into your Web page or blog:
Byline: Tamasin Day-lewis
As a young child growing up in Greenwich by the Thames in London, I would go on Saturday mornings down to "Joan's Dad" and collect the bread. To this day, I have never discovered the proper name of the baker. My mission, which I usually accomplished at breakneck speed on a pair of Jaco roller skates with bright scarlet leather-laced footholds, was to go up to the counter and demand conspiratorially to see "Joan's Dad." I would be ushered down a dark corridor to the heat of the bakery, and there he would be, whitened, floured hair and chalky eyebrows, fielding a paddle with the grace of a pole-vaulter, atop which he could hold whole rafts ...