‘That’s not even a swear word.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘No, it’s not.’
“Then what does it mean?’
Helen shrugged. ‘I dunno. But neither do you, so just shut up.’
‘Look, just come and hold it still.’
Helen squished up her mouth. She didn’t want to touch the dead fish. But, it was a special meal, and she’d promised to help her older brother.
‘How about I hold it with the fork?’
‘Fork? No, it can’t have pricks in it. Stupid.’
David rolled his eyes and placed the fish flat on the board. He tried to cut the fish open on the side, but it kept slipping.
‘Damn. I can’t get it. Hold it, will you?’
‘No, you’ll stab me.’
David’s chair wobbled.
‘Look, George said you just have to separate the fillet from the skeleton. It shouldn’t be that hard.
‘Yeah, but George isn’t trying to balance on a chair.’
Helen took the knife. They both concentrated on the fish. They leaned in. Helen slipped the tip of the knife in to the tail of the fish and started slowly cutting.
‘WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?’
Helen dropped the knife and they both froze. Helen closed her lips and wouldn’t speak. David wriggled about.
‘We were making that dish from Master Chef for Mum for mother’s day.’
Colin picked up the knife. He looked at the ingredients cut up and placed into little bowls along the bench. The kitchen was surprisingly tidy given the fact that the chefs of the morning were both under ten.
‘Firstly, traditionally, it is toast and maybe an egg for breakfast in bed, not stuffed Roughie. Secondly, that is for our dinner tonight. Thirdly, you do not EVER use knives like this without me or your mother about.’
The two children cringed as he shouted.
‘Finally,’ a smile crept onto his face. ‘When did you learn to cook like that?’