It’s the ‘Chipper’ I remember. Round a backstreet behind the Capitol Cinema.
It was the size of a small wooden garage painted dark green with two small windows and the door was always open to let out the smell of hot lard and chips splattering in it. It drew us children to its door to watch the Chipper turn the chips in a large basket, and serve them up in small greaseproof bags. Sprinkled with salt and vinegar on request then wrapped in newspaper and handed into our eager hands. We ate them waiting for the number 31 bus outside the cinema, out of the paper and piping hot – our favourite shop – The Oldton Chip Shop.