‘Yes,’ said Julia evenly. ‘It’s not for everyone.’
‘Coming through,’ Paul said. He spooned a mass of Yorkshire pudding onto his plate, making appreciative noises while keeping his head low. Charlie had finally set down his beer and was observing his mother.
‘Once you’re on maternity leave, you might have some time to experiment in the kitchen,’ Betsy said as she extended a pearly-painted finger to snag a brown tear of gravy from Paul’s plate before it fell. ‘I know that when Charlie was young, he just loved my lemon chicken. Wouldn’t take anything else, was the pickiest eater, but that chicken kept him healthy. No special seasoning, either. He barely got sick when he was little. You’ll see what I’m talking about once you have your own. Some kids get sick all the time. It isn’t natural.’
