“'Often on the menu,' he said, adding with a wink, 'unfortunately. Seconds, Ross?’ The doctor was sitting opposite them at the long trestle table. He shook his head. 'It’s bit like eating stringy chewing gum,' muttered Jenni, massaging an aching jaw. Matt looked up from his laden plate and guffawed. 'Dead right, babe!' They were serving themselves from a giant stewpot, adding a helping of the thick maize porridge called ugali. Matt handed along a dish of sliced carrots and spinach. 'Try ...this—real good.' 'When I first came out here,’ Paul reminisced, ‘what I missed most was Jenni's mother's home cooking. Ah, those potato soups … and the Irish stews simmering on the Aga.' ‘And the porridge,’ she reminded him eagerly, ‘remember how you loved Mum’s porridge.’ The doctor was listening with acute silent interest, those deep-set steel-grey eyes settling upon her with that heavy gaze. So Paul was there at breakfast-time too … interesting!MoreLessRead More Read Less
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