Safely on the pavement on the other side of the highway, I noticed I was peckish and thought to try out the bakery.
The interior needed refurbishing, although I supposed the owner might have been striving, and failing, for retro ‘50s. Kitsch required style and whoever had furbished the bakery had none. I nearly tripped on the cracked linoleum on my way through in the door and had to fight past the bread rack stacked with sliced white to avoid colliding with a woman, wider than she was tall, leaving with a bag of buns.
The display at the counter was exactly as I’d anticipated: lamingtons, cupcakes, vanilla slices, iced biscuits, brownies and custard tarts. The pie warmer contained the usual array of pies—meat, steak and bacon, and chicken and veg—and sausage rolls. Egg and bacon rolls wer
