Lunch looks grand, Meg. You’ve really outdone yourself,” James commented, loading his plate. He frowned down at an escaping carrot extending precariously over the plate edge and eased it back with his fingertip, then grunted and promptly stuck the burnt digit in his mouth. “I’ve been trying to eat better, organic and all. Are these vegetables free range?” he asked with a straight face. The table fell silent as several sets of eyes blinked owlishly back at him. With an equally straight face Beth speared a roasted wedge and studied it. “I don’t think potatoes require much grazing room, genius,” she deadpanned.