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Chapter 17
‘James!’ ‘Yessir?’ ‘Have you sanded the sugar?’ ‘Yessir!’ ‘Have you watered the treacle?’ ‘Yessir!’ ‘Then come up to prayers.’ God knows how often I heard that story whispered in the shop. We did actually start the day with a prayer before we put up the shutters. Not that old Grimmett sanded the sugar. He knew that that doesn’t pay. But he was a sharp man in business, he did all the high-class grocery trade of Lower Binfield and the country round, and he had three assistants in the shop besides the errand boy, the van-man, and his own daughter (he was a widower) who acted as cashier. I was the errand boy for my first six months. Then one of the assistants left to ‘set up’ in Reading and I moved into the shop and wore my first white apron. I learned to tie a parcel, pack a bag of curra
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