There was a prevalence of cake shops in Chichester in the 20's and 30's, remembers Archie Greenshields, all vying for trade with others in the area immediately close to the Market Cross. On a number of mornings, as the Cathedral tolled an angelus bell shortly before 8 a.m., it would also announce the start of the cake race.

A number of children would be spotted hastily making their way to the City centre with their carrier bags at the ready. Each would be journeying to a cake shop of his or her choice, or as directed by their parent, with the object of arriving first as the door was opened for business.

Archie tells us this amusing story at the time when he would have been attending the local infant school. He was one of eight children and, as you can imagine, his parents were surviving on a shoestring budget. Archie continues: -

With so many cake shops offering their wares it would be no wonder then that many were left unsold at the end of the day, and no proprietor would dream of ever offering for sale, yesterday's 'fancies', to the discerning shoppers of Chichester. These leftovers were stored under the counter with the sure knowledge that they would be sold early the next morning as 'stale cakes'. Thus leaving their displays free for all newly baked fresh creams, madeleines, shortbread, buns, and lardy rolls for their more discerning customers.

Mother's anxious eyes would be watching out for competition, sending my sister and I hurrying on our way, for her neighbour's children were also under starter's orders. Off we were packed with three pence and a carrier bag each, with instructions as to which of the cake shops to visit - me to one and my sister to another. We were not always lucky enough to be rewarded with riches, but more often than not our request for 'Three penny worth of stale cakes, please', was rewarded, often quite generously, by a sympathetic assistant.

Mother's strategy of doubling her odds this way often came up trumps in the attempts to feed her hungry brood. My pleasure would be equally doubled, when aware of the weight of a purchase, an obvious indication that I, at least, had been unusually lucky. It was difficult to resist peering into the bag on the way home if we had triumphed. By producing the efforts of our race, Mother was sure that the one-upmanship over her neighbours had once again paid off. But most of all, there would be cakes for all at tea.

Never mind that the majority might be penny buns, for these would be resurrected in her oven - but often there were occasional 'fancies' mixed in, and my sister and I would be given first choice of these as our reward. And to think, all this excitement was to be had before school!

It was some years ago, when Mum was still alive, we invited her to tea and my wife had laid out a lovely 'spread'. In addition to her own homemade cakes and knowing her predilection for them, there was a plate of 'fancies'. For the benefit of my own children more than anything, for they love to hear that type of story, I told the tale of the 'Cake Race' and was shocked at Mum's reaction and her wrathful and angry cry 'Oh, Arch! we never did. You are trying to show me up'.

She insisted to her grandchildren that I had made up the story and was accused of being insensitive. Perhaps I had been, but far from trying to show her up, I was, and always have been, proud of her skills and forward planning.   

Mum's answer to get us to the seashore nearest to home, which cannot be more than seven miles away, was to cajole us to attend a Sunday school on a regular basis and in that way, we were lucky enough to visit the shore once a year. Somehow she managed to coerce us to enrol at a Sunday school at just the right time in any year to qualify for it's annual summer treat. To qualify, children who enrolled were given religious stamps to stick in an album to record their regular attendance in that year.

Mum's smartness was in her ability, well in advance, to discover the information she required to enable her to decide which denomination her children would adopt in that year. Thus she could ensure that we would enrol in good time as either Protestants, Methodists, Congregationalists, and even Salvationists, but never, on any account, Catholics. In that way, the likelihood of visiting a different seaside to that of the previous year was ensured.

Most of the time it worked, except for one year when the venue of the summer treat was changed at the last moment to a grand tea party, with games and races in a local vicarage garden. That, according to Mother, was 'A poor look out'. A treat that stands out in my mind was a visit to Selsey with a ride there and back on the famous Selsey 'bumper' train. The walk to the shore from its terminus, however, seemed interminable to my young legs.

Mother was not a great Church-goer herself, but fiercely brought her children up in the Christian faith. It is doubtful if there was ever enough time for her to spend at worship with so many to care for. However, she hardly ever missed a thanksgiving service after the birth of each child (commonly called the Churching of Women).

Archie's mother was not unusual in her spendthrift ways. Indeed in those times of poverty, most mothers would have run the household in much the same way. The exception, of course, being well-to-do families who were fortunate enough not to have to worry about where the next penny was coming from.

Emma and Thomas Percy Greenshields, Archie's parents