Daniel Does Lunch “What kind of meat? Are they beef or ham?” Daniel expanded. “Mince.” The youth picked up a raw burger and looked at it, offering it to Daniel to inspect. “Mince,” he repeated. Daniel looked at it. His mouth watered. “Fine. I’ll have a burger in a roll with onions, baked beans and chips. And a large cup of tea.” Daniel felt so hungry. “Just a minute - what is the soup today?” The youth looked surprised, then mightily relieved. “Same as every day. Mixed vegetable.” He waved the ladle at Daniel then dipped it deeply into a pan and stirred up a waft of hot soup. “And it’s home-made?” Daniel asked. “Yeh, I make it in the morning. Mix the powder with the water. No lumps. Don’t let it boil. Sam showed me. No tins,” the youth said proudly. “Fine, I’ll have the soup too then,” Daniel beamed, all thoughts of gazpacho and consommé dispatched. “Mug or a bowl?” The youth was in his stride. “Mug please, and a roll.” So was Daniel. ‘I’ve got crotons,” the youth confessed. Daniel was taken aback. The youth rummaged in a bowl by the hob. He palmed a handful of bread squares and showed them to Daniel: “I could put herbs on them.” He shook a canister at Daniel. “Oh, croutons… No, I’d prefer the roll, thanks, ” he said cheerfully. “Do you want your tea while you wait?” the youth asked. “Yes, that would be good.” Daniel looked round and saw that the table by the window was empty. Its red gingham oilcloth hung at an angle, but the red plastic tomato sauce, the yellow plastic mustard and the HP Sauce bottle were there. Glass peppers and salts and brown vinegar completed the set. The youth pushed a mug of dark brown tea across the counter and pointed to a large bowl of crusty white sugar. “Help yourself, ” he indicated a mug full of spoons beside it.
Pushing Out the Boat 11
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