“What’s new?” I ask mum, as I demolish my second custard cream. I keep telling myself that I didn’t enjoy the first. But they are annoyingly more-ish. Probably because there’s only half a syn in them.
“Oh you know,” mum sighs as she polishes the picture frames for probably the third time today. “Your dad has been reciting romantic poetry and has been on a huge shopping spree. I have to say, I love the Gucci knickers.”
“Not a lot then,” I say as I take a sip of my tea. “Oh well, I’d I make the big pay roll I’ll buy you as many pairs of Gucci knickers as you want.”
“I’m sure they’re overrated anyway,” she sighs as she puts her duster down. “Your dad definitely wouldn’t notice the difference between Gucci and Asda George.”
“That’s men for you, mum,” I tell her.
“They aren’t all like th
