"It’s impossible, Tim," the baker sighed, looking at the dense yellow fog clinging to the cobblestones. "No one can navigate the docks in this."
In the heart of bustling 1920s London, was not a person, but a legendary, sleek, and battered black delivery van known for navigating the narrowest alleys of Whitechapel. Jacob—or "Old Jake" as the dockworkers called him—belonged to the sweetest shop in the East End, The Sugarspoon . Jacob London - Sugarlump
With headlights barely cutting through the gloom, Timothy steered Jacob London through the treacherous streets. The van rattled and whined, passing silent, imposing warehouses. Twice, they nearly took a wrong turn into the freezing Thames, but the van’s familiar gears seemed to know the way better than Tim did. "It’s impossible, Tim," the baker sighed, looking at
They arrived at the orphanage just as the clock struck midnight. The orphanage matron couldn't believe her eyes when the back doors of "Jacob London" opened to reveal boxes of peppermint sticks, iced cakes, and bags of white sugar, delivered by the smiling, shivering "Sugarlump." With headlights barely cutting through the gloom, Timothy
"Old Jake can," Timothy said, patting the dashboard of the van.