That all sounds quite... fancy,she said.
“Oh no, sometimes it’s just something really simple,” I said, “like sourdough toast with Manchego cheese and quince paste.”
“Right,” she said, exchanging a glance with little Danielle, who was gawping at me, revealing a mouthful of partially masticated beans.
Neither spoke, and Mrs. Mearns placed a glass bottle of thick red liquid on the table,
which Danielle then proceeded to shake violently and slather all over the orange and beige food.
Of course, after I was taken into care, I rapidly became acquainted with a new culinary family;
Aunt Bessie, Captain Birdseye and Uncle Ben all featured regularly,
and now I can distinguish HP Sauce from Daddies by smell alone, like a sauce sommelier.
It was one of the innumerable ways in which my old life and my new life differed.
Before and after the fire. One day I was breakfasting on watermelon, feta and pomegranate seeds,
the next I was eating toasted Mother’s Pride smeared with margarine.
That’s the story Mummy told me, at any rate. The bus stopped right outside the hospital.
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