Getting ready for this first day of secondary school, Rupert chewed thoughtlessly on the toast his mother always managed to burn at the edges and blame the toaster for.
She could never remember which of her sons preferred peanut butter and which marmalade, and inevitably she would hand him the wrong plate and a flurry of bartering would ensue, as each brother weighed up whether the sacrifice of eating something they disliked was worth watching their brother suffer the same fate.
Usually whoever got Ed’s marmite would fold first. This morning, Rupert had Ben’s peanut butter.
He decided to stick.
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