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The
cook
disappeared
.
Almost
at
once
she
was
back
again
staggering
under
the
weight
of
an
enormous
round
chocolate
cake
on
a
china
platter
.
The
cake
was
fully
eighteen
inches
in
diameter
and
it
was
covered
with
dark
-
brown
chocolate
icing
.
"
Put
it
on
the
table
,
"
the
Trunchbull
said
.
There
was
a
small
table
centre
stage
with
a
chair
behind
it
.
The
cook
placed
the
cake
carefully
on
the
table
.
"
Sit
down
,
Bogtrotter
,
"
the
Trunchbull
said
.
"
Sit
there
.
"
The
boy
moved
cautiously
to
the
table
and
sat
down
.
He
stared
at
the
gigantic
cake
.
"
There
you
are
,
Bogtrotter
,
"
the
Trunchbull
said
,
and
once
again
her
voice
became
soft
,
persuasive
,
even
gentle
.
"
It
’
s
all
for
you
,
every
bit
of
it
.
As
you
enjoyed
that
slice
you
had
yesterday
so
very
much
,
I
ordered
cook
to
bake
you
an
extra
large
one
all
for
yourself
.
"
"
Well
,
thank
you
,
"
the
boy
said
,
totally
bemused
.
"
Thank
cook
,
not
me
,
"
the
Trunchbull
said
.
"
Thank
you
,
cook
,
"
the
boy
said
.
The
cook
stood
there
like
a
shrivelled
bootlace
,
tight
-
lipped
,
implacable
,
disapproving
.
She
looked
as
though
her
mouth
was
full
of
lemon
juice
.
"
Come
on
then
,
"
the
Trunchbull
said
.
"
Why
don
’
t
you
cut
yourself
a
nice
thick
slice
and
try
it
?
"
