"What would you like Lily?"" I'd like a snowball please George." That's the way it always went.
Edie would express interest in a snowball, as would Maisie and Dolly. Marie and Ann could usually be persuaded too.
The elderly Advocaat, the Miss Haversham of the drinks cabinet, would be found, dusted down and then shaken up to see if the separated layers of liquid would amalgamate into one custard-coloured mass. There would be some discussion and scrutiny to determine whether it was old enough to be life-threatening. The whole process could take a while. Then, only then, would start the search for some equally antique lemonade.
My sisters and I would say, can we have a snowball? Pleeeeeease? The answer was always no. Not until you are older.