Pickapeppa Albacore, 2021 •• Six and the final beams of sun are departing beyond the cold brick crowns of Empire. My mother wanted nothing more than to shed the day’s trainee smock, slink into the couch and watch Jeopardy. Fix yourself something fi eat. No Chinese tonight, tuna was ever in abundance. A half dozen tins ready for fritters, sandwiches and these occasional evenings. Piercing two and draining off their grey saline, the packed flesh is flaked and emptied into one of the chipped bowls we use for cookies and cream.