Page 224 - Mobile Magic

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Tom had refined his kitchen skills when he had done a Cordon- Bleu course in France, not long after his brother’s death.
His family had wanted him out of the country in a hurry; in case he embarrassed them socially. They were rich and conservative. They didn’t want any public displays of grief or anger. A few years later, when his outrageous activities earned him a gaol sentence, they had totally disowned him. Tom’s parents were both still alive - but they had never met Saffron and Charles.
His children always enjoyed watching their father cutting up food. He was as slick as any professional chef. He looked weird surrounded by Pony Club mums, but they seemed to be enjoying him.
Saffron bought a slice of mud-cake, then explored the clubhouse. It was a strange, octagonal building. The roof was supported by eight tree-trunks, all radiating from a central hub. Angie would like this place, she thought. Then she caught sight of a couple of kids from her own school. They called her over to join them.
‘I told Jane I’d seen you!’ said a boy, a couple of years younger than her. Jane, his sister, was in Saffron's grade, but in a different class.
‘I didn’t even know you owned a horse!’ declared Jane.
‘It’s black,’ said her brother. ‘It’s really cute - just a bit bigger than Pippy - that’s my pony - she’s a red-roan - the only one here who’s that colour!’
‘I think I've seen her then. Is she a Welshie?’