Cherry picking
“Here,“ mum said placing the two weathered wicker baskets – probably hand woven by my nan around the Second World War - into my hand. There had to be some sort of sentiment behind them, as she still insisted on using them even though they were coming apart around the rim. “You need to fill at least these two if you want both cherry jam and a cake tomorrow,” she said. “And take that –“ she lowered her voice to a whisper, “useless boyfriend of yours with you.”My boyfriend, Will was in my room,...
Teen