When was the last time you bought a bottle of wine from the corner shop? We are, after all, a nation of shopkeepers. Well, that’s what Napoleon allegedly said about us as an insult, but I think it’s quite a compliment.
The corner shop is often a quiet bedrock of our community. The warm glow of the lights behind the oversized photos of milk, bread and glasses of wine acts as a comfort on those early mornings when you realise you’ve run out of milk for breakfast, or bread for a packed lunch because you forgot your child is going on a school trip (thank you to my local Mace for not only selling bacon, but regularly saving mine too).
