I remember my first nectarine with such fondness. As a scared child, I intrepidly set off for my first day at ‘big school’. My mother prised my chubby hands from around her waist and watched, teary eyed as I set off across the vast playground. In my hand I held my ‘Forever Friends’ lunchbox replete with matching flask and purple handle.

Come lunchtime, I took my seat, a little perturbed that I was on my own in this cavernous room with a cacophony of chatter, cutlery and crockery chinking. Then the world fell silent as I opened my box: The most plump, moist fruit welcomed me. I remember the first bite, sweet juice running down my chin, all my sorrows forgotten.

Thank you, Mum,