She took Claudia’s hand. ‘Welcome to my home. Are you hungry?’ ‘No, thank you.’ Claudia’s cereal had digested hours ago, but she was shy about eating here. And if Mrs Chang stuck burning sticks in her toes, what sort of food would she serve? Mrs Chang shook Grandpa’s hand. So the teeth checking was wasted. Was he disappointed? Claudia wondered if Grandpa had been teasing her. She couldn’t work him out. He laughed when he shouldn’t. Then kept a totally straight face when he made a joke. ‘I will prepare something to eat, little one.’ Mrs Chang toddled into her kitchen as if Claudia hadn’t spoken. Claudia looked around. Mrs Chang’s flat was decorated with waterfall drawings and sheets of Chinese writing. There was a chirpy bird in a bamboo cage. Mrs Chang returned carrying a tray with three glasses of orange juice and a plate of flat, round cakes. ‘Moon cakes,’ she said. ‘They have bean curd in the middle. Many years ago, rebels hid secret messages inside them and passed them to their friends.’ Secret messages were cool, but bean curd?
