The red-tailed SHRIMP

Their tiny little black eyes stared up at her as they lay motionless on the soft bed of shredded lettuce.

‘They’re looking at me, I don’t like it!’ Marion said, prodding one of the small, lifeless sea creatures with her fork. ‘I don’t understand why we had to come here for lunch.’

‘Because we’re on holiday at the coast, Mum, and we’re here to experience all aspects of it, including tasting the local seafood,’ her daughter Kate replied, frowning in frustration.

‘Try them, Gran, they’re yummy!’ Jasper, her 10-year-old grandson piped up, biting into his with a loud crunch.

Marion screwed up her face and looked away. ‘I don’t think so. I’ll wait for my main course.’ She pushed the plate away.

‘Cool! Can I have them then?’ Jasper reached across and grabbed the plate before she had a chance to reply.

‘Jasper, don’t be so rude,’ Kate said. ‘Sorry, Mum, I do try to teach him manners!’ She glared across at her