This friendly little newsagents is a one man show: situated off the main drag, it is only busy before nine, when the children go to school, and around three thirty, when they come home. Despite its size, it is well stocked, with food, sweets and milk– even if a simple request does send the owner scuttling off into his stock room. Although I don’t use the shop daily, he seems to recognise me and remember both my milk and paper order. He has a few strange items on the shelves, the sort of thing that a larger shop would stock, perhaps, but there is no denying that this is a friendly, if cramped local newsagent. It isn’t really that convenient for anywhere, except the local laundrette: that might account for the roaring trade he appears to do in magazines, especially puzzle ones. In an emergency, it doubles as a stationers, although it is best to avoid those times that the primacy kids turn up for their penny mixes.