The other branch is the one on the industrial estate, which Keith patronises. This is the one where I can definitely never show my face. Why? Because this is the one where they have been baking cakes to sell to customers to raise money for charity. Keith stumbled upon this delightful extra service a few weeks ago and, buying up almost everything that was left, complained mournfully that I never allow him to have such lovely things as cakes.
Each time he goes in, he turns on the charm:
"Where's me cake, then?"
Utterly irrisistible, I'm sure you would agree.