nty of room for pudding afterward. She looked familiar
to Davidand it emerged that she was the administrator of the not-quite-hospital in which his
mother had died. His father told David that Rose had looked after his mother reallyreally well
although notDavid thoughtwell enough to keep her from dying.
Rose tried to speak with David about school and his friends and what he liked to do with his
eveningsbut David could barely manage to respond. He didn’t like the way that she looked at his
father or the way that she called him by his first name. He didn’t like the way that she touched his
hand when he said something funny or clever. He didn’t even like the fact that his father was
trying to be funny and clever with her to begin with. It wasn’t right.
Rose held on to his father’s arm as they strolled from the restaurant. David walked a little ahead of
themand they seemed content to let him go. He wasn’t sure what was happeningor that was
what he told himself. Instead he silently accepted a bag of seeds from his father when they reached
Trafalgar Squareand he used them to draw the pigeons to him. The pigeons bobbed obediently
toward this new source of foodtheir feathers stained with the muck an,
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