"I noticed there were some broken biscuits in the tin, so I took the liberty of feeding them to the ducks. They seemed to appreciate it. I hope you don't mind?"
"No, no, that's fine."
Later on I cleared away the dirty cups and plates from the volunteer's corner, and lifted the biscuit tin to wipe away the tea stains and crumbs from beneath. It was suspiciously light. I lifted the lid and peered inside.
Two sodding biscuits. That's all he'd left me. Two.
"I would have eaten the broken biscuits," wailed my daughter, upon this discovery.
"It's this wet weather," I explained. "It sends them all mad."