David Robbins: Down memory lane with stay-at-home Harry's old suitcase
The suitcase was old. The springs and latches of the locks at either corner didn't work. Here and there, the leather had scuffed. The letters H O'H were stamped into the surface near the handle. H O'H. Harry O'Hare.
It was one of those neat, robust, rectangular suitcases, the kind in which Paddington Bear carries his marmalade.
But when I saw it stacked high in a storage container in the warehouse one day this week, it wasn't Paddington Bear that came it mind.