The Polish Experience By Nicholas Westerby This ... - GetSab.Com

eezed through passport control and baggage collection into the expectant
outstretched arms of my Mother.
She took one look at Elly and hugged us both. Like always she was prepared
and had drinks and snacks for us. We chatted about the flight, the weather in
Warsaw and in England as we made our way through the car park. I had the
urge building up inside me, am sure my Mother was bursting at the seams
wanting to ask but neither of us mentioned a baby, mine and Elly’s baby.
The drive back took us past a Tesco superstore and when we got inside I
remembered so many things that I wanted to eat and stocked up on so many
treats that Poland didn’t have, custard being my favourite but simpler things like
vinegar, treacle, Kellogg’s cereal. All the small things that you take for granted
but love even more when you are denied them.
“What do you want for tea?” My Mum asked.
“Fish and chips.” I said.
“Not lasagne?” She sounded disappointed.
“I always want lasagne.” Which was true.
“Good. I made you a chicken lasagne, you can have fish and chips tomorrow
night. The boys will like that, they are coming tomorrow.” By the boys, she
meant my older brother Keith and his two sons Ross and Peter.