When Shem’s mother came to stay, Mila smothered a sigh and greeted the old woman with a smoothly smiling countenance. Her pinpricks started immediately. The children would have openly rebelled had not Mila spoken words of gentle reproof.
On Sunday mother-in-law took over the kitchen, relegating Mila to dishwashing.
“I am making Shem’s favourite.”
Mila managed not to smile as the sultanas in the curry swelled to epic proportions. Shem hated sultanas in his dinner.
The old lady served huge platefuls and smiled triumphantly.
Shem looked warily at his plate.
“Why is there rabbit shit in my dinner?”