Peter Rhodes on missing Wilko, coping with Covid and schools that were built to last, not crumble
I mooched around town, fruitlessly hunting for a rubber sink plug, a bag of assorted nuts and bolts, a pack of glossy photo paper and a couple of LED bulbs. God, I miss Wilko.
Yet, as the saying goes, it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good. The hurricane of bad luck that drove Wilko off our streets seems to have swept lots of customers elsewhere. Robert Dyas was heaving.
Covid-19 is on the rise with certificated deaths soaring from 80 per week in the summer to more than 300 now. We all know what to do: wash hands, avoid crowds, get yourself jabbed, consider wearing a mask. Alternatively, convince yourself it's all a global conspiracy, while crossing your fingers.
