She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. ’ All at once Mrs Sindlesham looked across at him, a sharp question in her eyes. She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks. . Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform.
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