One of the things that I remember most clearly about the time I spent living in Kingsbury is the baker’s shop. I don’t remember anything else about the town other than that shop and the railway station. I remember going to the baker’s with my mother and how we always seemed to have someone to talk to outside before we went in.
I also remember that there were always meringues in the window – white ones with cream in the middle, and chocolate ones. I would badger Mum to buy me one and every now and then she would relent. But I was never allowed a chocolate one – until one magical day when yes, I was finally allowed to have one.
Oh the joy! Oh the rapture! The walk home lasting forever, sitting at the dining table whilst Mum put it onto a plate for me. Anticipation! Then, that magical first bit and…
Disappointment. It was nowhere near as good as the white ones, really.
Thinking back on it, this might have been the first time I experienced the phenomenon of waiting for something for ages, only to be disappointed by the result, but I am sure it is a very small reason why I am always reluctant to be the first to try anything new – whatever it is and however technological it is. I want someone else to find out if it is a letdown before I do.