You see, I realize that you’re the only person I can tell the truth to (bit tragic, when you come to think of it, since you don’t actually exist), and the truth is not always that nice, I’m afraid. However, I’ve decided that this letter will be only lovely. It will be full of all the great things about my mum that I’m scared I’ll forget over time. That I’m already forgetting. It will be a record between all three of us: me, you, Mum. I promised, before we lost you, that I’d tell you about Mum, so here we are. Surprising things about Lillian King (your grandma, my mum): She couldn’t cook for toffee, so she’d do party food for tea all the time: cheese and pineapple on sticks, mini-sausages, sausage rolls … She used to make up brilliant games for us to play, her favourite being a ‘make the most realistic poo competition’. On a rainy afternoon when we were bored, she would challenge all three of us to make the most realistic poo: 20 mins on the clock, free rein of all ingredients in the cupboard (cocoa powder, bread etc.).
