Waiting in the village shop and I'm buying the odd bits and bobs, swiss-roll, cumin powder, a plunger and clothes pegs, you know, the usual, when in walks Mrs Hoity-Toity. You can tell she's well known at the local shop as she has 'an account'. Parked conveniently outside the front doors on the pavement, she is prepared for the weather. An ice-cold December wind whistles through the front door of the store, muddy, damp cardboard boxes adorn the walkways, but twinset and pe