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Ouma’s Swiss roll was legend. I would always hide one out of sight, either by slipping it into her handbag or taking one back to the car. But it wasn’t simply because I wanted to save something for dessert that night – I knew that whatever Swiss roll we had left at the end of a Saturday bazaar would find its way into Ouma’s trifle that Sunday. These days, I make her Swiss roll a day before I make a trifle.