“Did you help her?”
“How could I? I can't read.”
“What were you doing in the supermarket, anyway?”
“I was with Julie? She was shopping?” Lucy's tone became that of a fifteen year old girl with attitude, one who knew better than an adult about every subject. “Where did you think the food came from?”
“Well, I...” Harold shrugged. He knew about shopping, obviously. He'd visited the shop close to his mum's for years but it hadn't really occurred to him that someone actually went to the supermarket and brought groceries home. He'd always assumed Devious was responsible for provisions, which generally went a long way to explaining why they were always out of chocolate biscuits.
“You thought Devious got them.”