While Steve and Clare plotted world domination, I was taking a more scenic route to my career development, selling buns, high class buns mind, I was a supervisor in Harrods Bakery and it was a killer of a job.

It was very hot, it was very busy, it was very long hours and the pay was erm, not very good. The fridges were constantly overheating and leaking water all over the floor, the staff were permanently exhausted,  and as for the seasonal stuff - the hot cross buns, the mince pies the Christmas pudding - the phrase ‘bun fight’ had to have been invented in Harrods bakery on a Saturday afternoon.

The celebration cake section was like the Bermuda triangle with orders constantly being lost or miss-interpreted, ‘Oh you’re getting married this weekend…’ ‘Oh the sponge can be any flavour apart from coffee… ‘ We even had a three tier wedding cake stolen once, right off the shop floor, just as we were ordering the taxi to deliver it, we had to send a dummy wooden one over instead, the bride was very calm. Then she sued us.

It was during this time I developed my addiction for chocolate éclairs, I would chain munch them, I always had one on the go, in our shoe box office where I squinted at my very messy staff rota, and wondered who I could possibly persuade to do late till, again.

I look back on those long, sweaty, stressful, poorly paid hours obviously with some relief that they are behind me, but also I think, actually what a very good apprenticeship they were for later years. I learned all about customer service at the coal face, how to streamline tedious processes, and the true value of team work. Although to this day I’m not convinced my natural talent to box up a foot long millefeuille, complete with string handle in less than five minutes, has ever truly been appreciated.