Upside down but on the ball

SIR: Alice Pitman’s warm and affectionate tribute to her uncle, and my old William Hickey colleague and friend, David Pitman (Home Front, November issue) was hugely enjoyable, but may I correct one small detail? David was indeed interviewing a member of the royal family when he was hauled upside down by a rope tied to his feet that had been looped over a clothes hanger, but his head was never in a wastepaper basket. For the record, he was talking to Prince Richard of Gloucester (Now the Duke of Gloucester). And it may be of interest to your readers that when absolutely perpendicular with his head touching the floor, but with the telephone still clamped with heroic professionalism to his ear, he was heard to say: ‘I’m sorry Prince Richard I didn’t quite catch that.’ Geoffrey Levy (editor, William Hickey

1974–76), London.

SIR: Enquiring of his customers ‘Pan or plain?’ as their choice of bread, Alice Pitman’s uncle David Pitman was subtly investigating their social status or aspirations. In Scotland, a plain loaf is coarsetextured, with a thick upper crust. Cut in thick slices to form a cheese or coldmince sandwich, it found its way into the lunch boxes of labourers and outdoor workers. Toasted before an open fire, it is one of life’s small pleasures.

By contrast, a pan loaf is moister with a light crust on all four sides. Cut in thin slices it provides a base for cucumber or tomato slices. It was the ‘ pain’ of choice for afternoon tea, especially among those ladies gently satirised by Muriel Spark in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. Thus to mock someone for speaking ‘awfully pan loaf’ became a commonly used phrase.

Ron Grant, Elgin, Moray, Scotland.