pints of milk. She leans forward to kiss Mum on the cheek and her T-shirt rides up slightly. Luke averts his eyes and makes a big deal out of putting another spoon of sugar in his cup.
‘Good morning, everyone,’ she says, standing up and running her hand through her hair, dragging it loosely from her face and letting it fall again.
‘Good morning, darling,’ says Mum. ‘Did you sleep all right? Wasn’t too hot or too cold? Was the mattress okay for you?’
Alice smiles fondly down at Mum. ‘Sure, the bed was fine. I guess the jet lag is starting to catch up on me.’
Mum pulls out the chair beside her. ‘Here, sit down. What would you like for breakfast? There’s toast, cereal, some pastries. Clare, be a love and make Alice a cup of coffee. It is coffee you want, isn’t it?’
Alice smiles and nods. ‘That would be awesome. Thanks, Clare. It’s really kind of you.’
‘No problem,’ I say, ignoring the rueful smile on Luke’s face as I put down my toast.
‘Could I have some toast as well, please?’ says Alice. ‘I don’t suppose you have any peanut butter and jelly,’
‘I think there’s some jam.’ I rummage in the cupboard. ‘Here you go.’
Alice picks up the jar and, opening the lid, examines the contents. She screws her nose up. ‘I’ll take a raincheck.’ She looks up at me. ‘It’s got bits in it.’
It strikes me that Alice is being ever-so-slightly fussy, but I let it go. ‘There’s always Marmite,’ I say, as I go about making a coffee for her. .
‘Marmite?’ says Alice.
‘Don’t even go there,’ says Luke. ‘We’ve got jam or marmalade. They’re a much safer bet.’
‘Maybe, Luke, you could have a look online to see whether we can get the peanut butter and jelly for Alice,’ says Mum as I come back with my sister’s drink.
‘I’m sure we’ve got something Alice will like,’ I say. Luke really doesn’t need to go off on a wild-goose chase for Alice’s American tastes. He’s very obliging towards Mum, but sometimes I think she takes it for granted. I return to the cupboard and start pulling out various jars, the clonk of the glass on the granite work surface representing my irritation. ‘Marmalade. Nutella. Honey.’ I turn to look at Alice.
‘Er, honey will be great,’ she says, flicking a glance towards Luke.
‘Local honey,’ he says, passing the jar over to her. Then, turning, he gives me the eyes, which I return with a shrug and then feel rather embarrassed that my little display of frustration hasn’t gone unnoticed by all the adults in the room.
Fortunately, Mum recovers the situation and starts chatting about the day ahead and what we’re going to do. I brush my little display of petulance away with the toast crumbs and join in the conversation.
Alice seems happy with the plan and is pleased that we are all going out together. ‘Oh, it will be like a proper family outing. Our first real one. One that I can remember, anyway.’
Mum smiles warmly. ‘I can’t tell you how I’ve longed for a day like this.’
‘Me too,’ says Alice.
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