Milkman’s secret is not safe with me

The dalliances of dennis the milkman brought back memories of my childhood. Between finishing my paper round at 8am and leaving for school, I had 30 minutes to introduce my face to a wet flannel, buy and prepare breakfast, pack up my books and change into my uniform. The Co-op milk float was always parked near our house when I got home. While the runner dashed around delivering to those with orders, I would get whatever was on the note my mother left and pay the milkman in cash. The little chit confirming my purchase had separate columns for pounds, shillings and pence with a further space for our Co-op membership number, and the sale was recorded using blue carbon paper. one morning the float was missing and I was grumpy I couldn’t have my usual fresh rolls with banana mash. At lunchtime, I told my mother the float had not turned up. To my surprise, she said: ‘That’ll be the new milkman and her at no . 18.’ When the float was missing again the next morning, I could just make it out at the far end of our street, so I got on my bike. Fretting about being late for school, I found the runner outside no. 18. I wasn’t about to miss breakfast a second time, so I took what Mum wanted, filled out the chit, put money in the cash box and took my change. next morning, the regular milkman, a cheery sort, was back outside our house and couldn’t wait to tell me about ‘the scandal at the depot’. Someone had filled in a chit (gasp!) and it could only have been done if the float was left unattended (gosh!). And the culprit had entered the shillings figure in the pounds column and the pennies figure in the shillings column!

ian s. Clark, Fife.