There’s nothing like the joy of placing pristine handmade paper in a press, clicking bits of type into a composing stick, and breathing the exotic aroma of oil-based ink. Nothing, that is, except perhaps changing the history of Europe.
Alarm bells should have rung when the deputy prime minister phoned me at the Press one balmy March day. “Alex Plumtree? Guy Ferris-Browne here. I admire your work at Plumtree Press tremendously. Listen – I know this is a bit sudden, but – are you free for lunch today?”
I sat up a bit straighter. It wasn’t every day that the humble phone lines of Plumtree Press were graced by the nation’s second-in-power.