For the Word Police: "Whose
coat is that jacket!" creates issues. In the milk yard it was
good humored and without malice. And at three o'clock on a cold
morning it was something precious.
"Whose coat is that jacket!" made the tea. He was always
the first to get to work so the foreman had given him the key.
It never was actually cold, unless there was nowhere to dry clothes.
I would sometimes calculate in the bakers shop whether to buy lardy
cake to thicken the blood against the damp or save for the electric
Nor was it worth acquiring a bicycle because my part of Cardiff was a port
town and sailors did good trade selling bicycles to Africa. So I
walked to work.
I would wake up at two in the morning and be four
miles away by three. And that cup of tea was usually enough.
But all that was a long time ago.