So I gave them to our neighbours, small baskets to ten different families.’ ‘You were good to give her the salt,’ Dragan says, and he means it. ‘I didn’t need it. She didn’t have to give me the cherries, either.’ Emina shrugs. ‘Isn’t that how we’re supposed to behave? Isn’t that how we used to be?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Dragan says. ‘I can’t remember if we were like that, or just think we were. It seems impossible to remember what things were like.’
