He’d stuff a samosa with some and give it to Paul when he came into the shop on his own. Who could resist just one samosa? It wouldn’t get anywhere near Lucy. If that failed he’d ask Paul to help him with some decorating and push him off a very tall ladder. The way to Lucy’s heart would be clear. Gurpal’s project had told him that kidney beans should be cooked thoroughly, boiled for four hours, something like that. He soaked a handful of beans overnight and then cooked them for fifteen minutes, just to soften them up. He stirred them into some samosa-filling mixture, and wrapped it up making a square to distinguish it from the rest of the batch. He carefully lowered it into the boiling oil, it fizzled and turned orangey-brown. ‘Giz one, Dad!’ Gurpal’s quick hand reached for the biggest one, the square one. ‘No!’ He slapped her hand away. ‘Aw, Dad, why’d you bother to have me if you won’t even give me a samosa?’ ‘OK. Have one. Just one.’ He handed her a neat triangle.
