start your journey from the middle - where pylons stride through carpets of oilseed rape.
"I told her she was joking because she was wearing the hat with the integral bear ears. She never speaks seriously in that hat.”
Until you, (who adored more than most the bell on the baker’s door, teasing the still air of a village in outer Shropshire)
Jack Effra was never aware of the voices. But they were everywhere: speaking about his walk in Londis in Milton Keynes, speaking about his taste for the continent in Cafe Rouge in Chiswick...