The man who called was Martin Kerr. Head of Bakery Buying at Greenfields.

He was charming at first. He came down to Bodmin, ate three pasties in a row, and told me they were the best he'd ever tasted.

“We're going to make Pascoe's a household name,” he said.

The contract was signed in a month. We hired twenty more people. We bought new ovens. We borrowed a lot of money to do it.

The first year was wonderful.

Then the phone calls started.

“Ellie, we need a listing fee. Fifty thousand. Everyone pays it. It's how it works.”

“Ellie, we're asking all suppliers for a marketing contribution this year. Thirty thousand.” “Ellie, we're moving to a hundred and twenty days for payment.”

A hundred and twenty days. Four months before they paid for pasties I'd already baked, delivered and paid my staff for.

Then the price cuts.

“We need fifteen per cent off, Ellie. Prices are tight. If you can't do it, we'll have to look at other suppliers.”

I did it. What choice did I have? I'd borrowed money for ovens based on Greenfields' orders.

That's how they get you. They wait until you can't say no.