Beulah fried me a second egg, then asked if I wanted another one. She had a look in her eye that said, ‘You don’t dare eat another one, Stevie.’ So I asked for another one. And another one. And so on. I stopped after seven, I think – seven is the number that sticks in my mind, and quite clearly. Maybe we ran out of eggs. Maybe I cried off. Or maybe Eula-Beulah got scared. I don’t know, but probably it was good that the game ended at seven. Seven eggs is quite a few for a four-year-old.
