Sitting under the kitchen table (Thinks: so that's where Limpit gets it) on a dark winter morning, with a packet of 4 raspberry drops delivered by the baker. These were like Jaffa cakes but twice the size and full of raspberry jam. There was no taste like it, with the spongey bit still warm where it had rested against the warm bread in the van, the chocolate thick and sticky and raspberry jam that was more raspberry than sugar.... Mmmmmmmmmm.

I don't remember anything else about the day, I just know it was before 8.30am and still pitch black outside. I hadn't started school yet, so I must have been about 3 or 4. I suspect my mother was in her usual seat toasting bread by the electric fire, wearing a yellow overall. I don't know where my brother and sister were... I was under the table so they couldn't eat my raspberry drops.

LTS