For no reason in particular, he turned his head towards the bedside table. Something had changed, but he couldn’t for the life of him work out what. His alarm clock was precisely where it had been ten minutes ago when it went off. His copy of Popcorn was lying open and face down, next to it. Then he realized that his glass of water, which had been on the table all night, had been replaced by his ancient Sonic the Hedgehog mug, full of hot steaming tea. Beside the mug lay a couple of digestive biscuits. Humiliation didn’t come close to describing Benny Littlestone’s emotions as he heard his mother plodding down the stairs. Beverley put her son’s empty glass in the sink, sat herself down at the breakfast bar and continued reading the wonkily printed instructions. ‘On a waxing moon place two acorns, an orris root, a tablespoon of goat’s rue and two tablespoons of hyssop oil in a cauldron and heat gently...’ Beverley snorted as she imagined going into Brent Cross Waitrose and asking where she would find the goat’s rue.
