A Spoonful of Sugar
“They were even, uniformly baked and my custard was – of course – perfect. They weren’t as immaculate as blimming Amelia’s but they were good.
‘Good effort,’ said Peter, biting into one of the crisp biscuits. I beamed at him.
‘You’ve done well, there,’ added Lizzie, turning them over to check they were evenly baked.
Across the tent, Amelia scowled at me. I smiled back. She needed to be more gracious, I thought, particularly as Peter and Lizzie had already tasted her biscuits and pronounced them ...some of the best they’d ever had.
I watched as Peter and Lizzie moved on to Wilf’s biscuits.
‘I’m not sure about this jam,’ muttered Paul. ‘It doesn’t taste quite right. What do you think, Lizzie?’ Lizzie chewed the biscuit.
‘Hmm,’ she said, fixing Wilf with a hard stare worthy of Paddington Bear himself. ‘Is this homemade?’ ‘Oh yes,’ Wilf lied, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. As he shuffled, he kicked his bag accidentally and one of the empty jam jars began to roll across the floor.MoreLess
‘Good effort,’ said Peter, biting into one of the crisp biscuits. I beamed at him.
‘You’ve done well, there,’ added Lizzie, turning them over to check they were evenly baked.
Across the tent, Amelia scowled at me. I smiled back. She needed to be more gracious, I thought, particularly as Peter and Lizzie had already tasted her biscuits and pronounced them ...some of the best they’d ever had.
I watched as Peter and Lizzie moved on to Wilf’s biscuits.
‘I’m not sure about this jam,’ muttered Paul. ‘It doesn’t taste quite right. What do you think, Lizzie?’ Lizzie chewed the biscuit.
‘Hmm,’ she said, fixing Wilf with a hard stare worthy of Paddington Bear himself. ‘Is this homemade?’ ‘Oh yes,’ Wilf lied, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. As he shuffled, he kicked his bag accidentally and one of the empty jam jars began to roll across the floor.MoreLess
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