Up in The Bread Factory main office, where it’s warm cosy and smelling deliciously of, what else but, freshly baked bread, the staff are gently taking the mickey out of one of the accountants. ‘Every morning, first thing, he’s goes off to the baking floor for his fresh cakes and croissants!’’ they laugh. He smiles, acknowledging their banter, and then his eyes go all misty and unfocussed. ‘Look,’ his colleague says,’ he’s dreaming about those cakes again!’...
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