— Audrey, what on earth…
— What’s the matter, Hugh?
— This sauce — it’s — it’s got a funny texture.
— That’s how it’s supposed to be.
— Surely not, though, darling.
— I followed the recipe to the letter.
— What’s in it?
— A quarter pound of mozzarella and one and a quarter pounds of Elmers.
— Elmers?
— Yes. Elmers. You know, the school glue. The white stuff that dries transparent.
— Well, that explains it! But Audrey, glue? Really?
— It says it’s non-toxic on the bottle.
— That’s hardly the point.
— Are you sure that’s what the recipe said? I find it very hard to believe.
— I had Cindy read it out to me while I was cooking. I had so much to do.
— But Cindy’s only six. And she has a lisp. Perhaps you ought to go fetch the book so we can see.
* * * * * * *
— Oh dear. I’m terribly afraid you’re right! It says “teleme,” not “Elmers.” I’ve never heard of teleme, have you?
— No.
— At least we caught it before the guests arrived. I say, Audrey?
— Yes, Hugh?
— If we leave these clams open won’t birds swoop down to grab them?
— I shouldn’t think so. Besides — they were open when I bought them. The man said it would save me a lot of hassle trying to do it later. They were dead cheap too! A real bargain.
