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'Can we eat lunch, Mr Tompson?'

'What do you think, Mrs Marx?' Tommy says.

'OK. Here's as good a place as any. Sit on your space blankets, kids. Keep bums dry when poss. If you're not wearing overtrousers, that is.'

No one can be bothered to get their space blankets out of their packs so they all eat standing up, leaning against the bridge railing.

Mai stuffs in a mouthful of scroggin then unwraps a bunch of spring rolls.

'Oh, yum,' says Amy, shuffling closer. 'Did your mum make those?' 

 

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