In the crockery cupboard, I found two
small green ceramic bowls. I cracked a
single egg into each one, and whisked
energetically. There was salt to add,
and a few grains of powdered milk.
The resulting mix didn’t look like it’d
sustain a starving mouse. I didn’t know
how I was going to palm this off on
William. He’d be outraged. We had
bread. An airy white loaf that turned to
stodge when you chewed too hard.
I toyed with the idea of retrieving the
soup cans from the bin, but we weren’t
that hard up, at least not yet. Once it
was light, I’d go to the charity shop
and beg for a handout. That’d give us
three days of decent food. I didn’t dare
look too far ahead.