"My earliest recollection of our shop was during the war seeing a queue of men in uniform. I often used to fall asleep in an open cupboard on piles of newspapers ie wrapping paper at the end of our counter.

The frying range was of course coal-fired and I remember at the end of each frying session my father carrying the glowing embers from the range on a shovel through our living quarters and letting it burn out in our domestic fire-grate.

Fish deliveries during the war were very unpredictable and spasmodic. The cod that did arrive had only been gutted and not filleted – my parents had to do that – and what remained was boiled, the flesh removed for fishcakes and the bones buried in our garden.

I remember trying to grow cabbages in the early 50’s in the same garden and always the crop galloped into flower due to the high fertility of the soil being full of fish bones. Cooking oil must have been scarce as father went around the local military bases collecting surplus cooking oil for re-cycling.

I also remember him purchasing a piece of equipment which received the batter scraps with heat underneath and a press-type device at the top to extract oil from the used batter pieces. My mother made pork faggots once a week the queues of women each with a china basin was testament itself to their popularity.

Potatoes in 100cwt Hessian sacks were peeled and each potato placed under the square mesh cutting guillotine – can you imagine the labour intensity then, compared with our modern techniques now."