Smoke filled the air, whether it be from the sewage, factories or from the puffs of cigars around, Conan carried on down the cobblestone streets. Riding his vehicle down the road, doing his rounds to deliver the milk at doorsteps, he listened as the children played about on the streets.

Small Heath, Birmingham.

Reaching a house, he stepped out. Opening the back of his vehicle and approached the steps of the house. Gently placing down the glass bottles of the cream milk and knocked the door.