Shock moment!

She drew breath and assumed I had something to say.

'Don’t interrupt, Millicent -  this is important. Five kilos to the Grand in Yarmouth. They phoned me. Wetting themselves in case the Blue Moon stole a march. They are paying forty a kilo.'

The line went dead. I relayed the message. My father’s chin dropped.

'By when?'

I shrugged.

'ASAP, I suppose. We can’t work fucking miracles.'

My father’s chin dropped another inch. He sighed and bent over to tend his bush. I heard him mutter, 'Keeping company with the toffs isn’t helping your language.'

'Sozz,' I grumbled into my basket. 'Sonya! Can you write this down as we go? Three columns. Place, weight, price.'

She beamed with pride. She had presided over a disaster turning into an exciting day.

And so the day went on. Vera sold a hundredweight that day at an average of thirty pound a kilo. She had the sense to promise deli