Without thinking, I said, ‘What do you fancy doing tomorrow? Maybe we could go down to the park and cook breakfast on the barbecues?’ John, who was still crawling on his hands and knees collecting toys, turned his head. He looked surprised. ‘Why are you looking at me funny?’ I asked. ‘Why do you think?’ he replied. I kept standing in the middle of the kitchen with wooden spoon in hand, while the wok sizzled behind me. What do you fancy doing tomorrow? It was something I’d never said on a Saturday night. For as long as I could remember, I’d always planned for a headache and a day in bed every
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