IT is 20 years since the closure of Warrington's iconic Memory Lane factory.

The cake factory was resident in Warrington for more than 70 years but shut in 2000.

Based on Delamere Street in Whitecross, the land is now a small housing estate.

Among those to get in touch was Kiki Kendrick who worked during her summer holidays while studying at art school in Liverpool in the early 1980s.

Here, in her own words, she remembers those days.

"I worked at Memory Lane Cakes summer 1981-83. whilst at Liverpool Art School. My shift was 6-2.

I’d cycle there in the dark from Great Sankey - the smell of cakes getting stronger with every pedal - I'm sure if I'd
closed my eyes, my nose would have found the way.

"You'd have to clock in with a manilla card in a gun-metal "clocking-in" machine (that looked old fashioned even then).

"It'd stamp the time - if you were over a minute late, an hour was docked off your little brown pay packet at the end of the week.

Warrington Guardian:

"The day I started I was put on the mini chocolate Swiss roll plant. I was like a kid in a sweet shop and when no one was looking popped a whole Swiss roll in my mouth.

"Having got away with one, I gobbled another then another... until about 7am, I'd eaten possibly 20+ Swiss rolls and felt pretty sick and sticky.

"No one seemed bothered by my greedy antics or maybe they were used to newbies doing this.

"In hindsight I'm sure it was Memory Lane’s strategy; let staff pig out on their first day, and they’ll not want anything again after that. It worked.

"I didn't fancy another cake for the whole time I was there and since then to this day a chocolate Swiss Roll has never passed my lips.

"Something you need to know about rolling sponge for Swiss rolls - it’s a really dangerous job!

"The edges of the sponge were sharper than a Sabatier.

"I proved so efficient at that job, I was promoted to “coconut dipper”; pick up 2 gateaux (one in each hand) from the conveyor belt, turn upside down and dip into loose coconut, place on a tray, which would then be
moved along to another conveyor belt on the other side.

"Repeat; Pick up another two gateaux, turn, dip etc.

"This involved a certain amount of skilful timing and coordination - woe betide if you lost focus like I did
once when someone asked what I was doing at the weekend and I momentarily stopped to think.

"Next thing there was a pile-up of gateaux from the conveyor belt, coconut flying everywhere, which clogged up
the machine and a big red alarm went off.

"The plant stopped, everyone down tools and after lots of tutting and groans, I was demoted to “earwig picker”.

Warrington Guardian: Battenberg cake as made by Michelle for Slice of Life

"Thursdays was Discount Day and we could go and buy cakes that had been misshapened in the process from a prefab set up in the car park; you could get a battered Battenberg for 10p or a turned over apple turnover for 6-pence.

"All the staff were there, grabbing what they could – it was a bit of a bun fight to be honest, but I’d buy as much as I could carry on my bike and give them away to friends, relatives and neighbours.

"The cakes were an indistinguishable mush by the time I’d got home, but it helped me to become a very popular member of the community.

"I have fond memories of that factory, singing a long to the old songs on the tinny tannoy - I felt like Gracie Fields in me elasticated bonnet and wrap-around overall with all the older ladies who had worked there all their lives, just as their mother’s had before them - and it was ALL women, apart from for the bosses, the drivers and a couple of lads who would come and fix the machines every now and then.

"You knew when a male entered the shop floor, as there was a hush, followed by a huge wolf-whistle in unison - sometimes we'd break the machines on purpose so the guys would come in and we could oggle and tease them.

"One young lad used to get so embarrassed, he go redder than a MemoryLane Jam Tart.

"It was like a building site in reverse - no such thing as sexual harassment in them days either. Before I left the factory for the bright lights and big city, one of the girls in the packing depot had bagged the young mechanic and he was down that isle quicker than you could say Victoria Sandwich.

"But it was the smell I remember most; a cocktail; sweet/sickly Memory Lane Cakes, fatty acids from Lever Bros and Greenall’s hops was the signature whiff of ol’ Warrington.