With the help of Google we nail down a menu as we walk – jacket potatoes, and stuffed capsicums, and veggie skewers and coleslaw – and Patrick ventures bravely into the melee on several one-man missions, and forty minutes later I push our overloaded trolley out onto the footpath with a childbirth groan.
Bonnie veers off sharply, like a fighter plane breaking formation. ‘You’re so embarrassing,’ she hisses.
Bonnie veers off sharply, like a fighter plane breaking formation. ‘You’re so embarrassing,’ she hisses.