Eustace

Poor Eustace is not very well. Convalescing in bed, a victim of the coughs and hiccups that rack his frail body, his world is confined to the four spare walls of his grand and gloomy room, in a tall house in London. His days are spent in wild imaginings, punctuated by the occasional visit from his mother, from prune-faced Mrs Perichief, who serves an unvarying menu of watery soup, and from a legion of cannibalistic Aunties, who fuss and smother poor Eustace with their bosoms and kisses.