Perfect in pies

In the tiny garden of my parents’ first home was a plum tree. The first year they were there, it was covered with the most delicious fruit, and once all the family and friends had worked their way through the lot in pies, crumbles and the like, they looked forward eagerly to next year’s crop. Sadly it never came, because the tree died. Years later, we had an equally frustrating time with a cherry tree in our London home; previous owners had let it grow too tall and the birds always scoffed the l...