‘Looks fab, Mel. Does it taste wonderful? I hurled your school rock cakes through the window. Poor glass.’
I’d heard this from my twin a thousand times. I’d kept score.
‘Leave it then, Lucy.’
‘And miss out? No way.’
‘I made two. I’ll slice this and then cut the other in the kitchen for us. Chocolate sauce, everyone? Okay. I’ll bring that in. Lucy, I’ll do ours.’
I returned with Lucy’s cake and the sauce.
Her slice had extra cream and liquid laxative in the sauce.