Five a day.

On the corner of Parsloes Avenue and The Heathway stood Gipps, a fresh fruit and veg store, well actually more of a market stall that appeared from behind the vandalised roller shutters, a bit like a pop up shop. The men on the stall always wore white overall jackets, in the summer the white cotton jacket was probably cooling, in the winter it needed scarves and fingerless gloves to prop it up. These were the last of the days where people only bought what they needed that day or so, the freezer revolution and the supermarket style of shopping was already choking these independent traders. Gipps always smelt fresh, fruit always looked appealing, you could touch it, feel it and they always rounded up the contents of the brass bowl on the Salter scales before it slid inside a brown paper bag with their logo on, which kept people happy whilst doing an otherwise medial chore of buying Granny Smiths and Jaffa’s.

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