THERE is a parcel on the front doorstep of Angela Harding’s house in Rutland and no response to my knocking, so I pick up the package and set off through an archway at the side, where a flurry of baby swallows darts out over my head. At the bottom of the small back garden is a pair of unremarkable sheds, which turn out to be the hub of a quite remarkable artistic enterprise.
The first appears to be an office, doubling as a mail room, where I find Mrs Harding and two of her staff packaging Advent calendars for despatch. ‘We’re busy because of Christmas,’ she explains. ‘I’d always loved Advent calendars, but they had become so glittery I could never find one I
