Phoenix sat in the high chair and tore a hastily made cheese sandwich to shreds, pushing tiny chunks into her mouth. At the end of half an hour, there was nothing left to see, apart from a smear of grease on the tray. Hana wondered if the child was having a growth spurt as she devoured a bowl of pureed casserole. “Maybe you’re going to be tall like Daddy,” Hana mused as the spoon went in and out of the little face like a supermarket conveyor belt.
The baby was showing all the signs of wanting to go to sleep, despite Hana’s best efforts to keep her awake. “I wanted you to sleep at Dora’s,” Hana grumbled. “She’ll have all these expensive ornaments and I’m bound to say the wrong thing if I’m trying to stop you crawling all over exploring.” It was futile. The obligatory breastfeed was the fin
