Page 95 of Delicious

“Samey,” Elliott says.

“Machine made,” Peter says.

“Nice save there, boys. How was school?” It’s time to change the subject.

“Okay,” they reply.

“What did you do?”

“Don’t remember,” Elliott says.

“Peter?”

He shrugs. “Don’t remember either.”

“Did you do maths?”

“We do maths every day.”

“English?”

“Every day,” Elliott says in a bored tone.

“Hey, English is a great subject.”

He feigns an over-the-top yawn. “If you say so.”

“It is! It was always my favourite subject at school.” I enjoyed writing stories the most.

“I bet you liked maths too,” Peter says.

“Maths was?—”

“Boring?”

“I was going to sayokay.”

“But not great?”

“No. Not great.”

“What about break and lunchtime?”

Elliott’s eyes light up. “We played football at lunchtime.”

“I scored a goal!” Peter runs ahead, pretending to dribble a ball and kicking it into a goal. He thrusts his hands into the air in victory.

Elliott dashes after him and gives him a congratulatory hug. “It was an epic goal!”

I laugh. “Did you score any goals?”

Elliott releases Peter and holds up two spread fingers, his palm facing me. “Two and I kicked the ball so hard it went straight over the fence.”

I wince. “Oops.”

“One of the dinner staff had to go and fetch it for us.”

“She didn’t mind,” Peter says.

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