‘That was me, wasn’t it?’ I turn to Ella, attempting to brush away the bit of half-masticated mush. ‘I left the chicken out the other night.’ Her only confirmation is a slight nod as she grabs a cloth from the sink. ‘Ah, shit. I’m so—’
‘Shivers!’ she interjects, handing me the cloth, taking great care to make sure our fingers don’t touch. ‘We say shivers when we’ve made a mistake.’ Her eyes hold mine only for a moment before sliding to her toast again.
‘Or sugar,’ adds Louis. ‘Shivers or sugar but never merde or shit,’ he says, his curls bouncing as he shakes his head.
‘Louis!’ By her expression, she’s not too annoyed. Or surprised.
‘But you said all the bad words yesterday when Charles pooped.’
Ella looks on open mouthed and bright red.
‘Ella’s right. We shouldn’t say bad words, but sometimes, they just slip out. In fact, sometimes it’s just better to leave the room and say the devil’s prayer when there’s no one around. Maybe that’s what Ella should’ve done. Or maybe she doesn’t know the devil’s prayer. That’s probably what the problem was.’
‘What’s the debil’s prayer?’ he asks.
‘My granddad taught it to me, and it’s only to be used when you’re really cross and there’s no one else around. You have to save it for when you’re really, really annoyed.’
‘What is it? Tell me. I-I get cross sometimes!’
‘I mean, I could tell you but . . . ’ As I rub a hand against my chin, I pretend to be considering the validity of his request. ‘No, I think you’re too wee to know it yet.’
‘I am not! I am a big boy. And I have strong nipples, see!’ Even prepared this time, I still have to stifle my laughter as he flashes me his “guns”.
‘Well, I’ll tell you, but only if you promise to stick by the rules.’
‘Yes, yes, Daddy. I fromise!’
‘I’m worried,’ Ella says. ‘Should I be worried?’ I’m only glad she’s looking at me, even if it is with an indulgent sort of humour.
I stand from my stool, hooking my hands under Louis’s arms. ‘Okay, big man. I’m going to tell you, but you have to leave the room if you’re gonna repeat it. And you must never say this anywhere near school. Got it?’
‘Got it,’ he repeats decisively as I lift him to stand.
‘Okay. The devil’s prayer. Remember; only when you’re cross and feel like throwing your toys or punching something.’ I inhale, then push the words out so they become one long sound.
‘Damndamnbuggerhellshitshiteamen.’
Louis burst into giggles. ‘Say it slowly, Daddy. I want to learn!’
‘Or say it not at all!’ Ella laughs.
‘Okay, one more time, but you’d better pay attention. Ready?’ He nods again. ‘Damn, damn, bugger, hell, shit, shite, amen.’
‘Dam—’
I hold up a forestalling finger. ‘When?’
‘I need to practise!’
‘Then where?’
‘In my bedwoom,’ he yells, peeling away.
‘When the school calls, I’ll give them your number. They can refer you both to a psychologist,’ Ella says, watching me stalk around the island to where she stands.
‘I can’t afford to see a doctor. They’d tell me I’m a sexual predator, preying on my beautiful au pair. My hot as fuck au pair.’ I’m nothing if not honest this morning as I wrap my arms around her waist, her breath hitching as my hands trail her arse.
‘Good morning.’ My words are rough and rumbling as I lower my mouth to her neck. ‘You seem a little distracted,’ I whisper between soft kisses and teasing licks.
‘Is it any wonder . . . and stop! Louis might walk in on us,’ she says, pushing her hands against my chest.
‘Would that be so bad?’ My tongue on her neck, I feel her sharp intake of breath.
‘Yes!’ she answers, a touch shrill. ‘He’s been through enough already. Can you imagine how confusing it would be for him, just when he’s finding his feet?’ Her words sober me in an instant, and my hands fall to my sides. ‘And I keep looking at the sofa, turning red, and expecting him to ask me what’s wrong.’
‘You’re not alone. I din’nae think I’ll ever be able to look at it myself the same way.’
‘Ha. The man who keeps condoms in the kitchen? I’ll bet.’
‘What d’ you mean? Ah, you’re killin’ me here,’ I say suddenly, noticing the tiny denim shorts barely covering her arse. ‘Bad enough I had to take care of myself last night, but now I’ll have a hard-on all day.’
‘Nice dodge. Wait. Last night, you . . . ’
‘Last night, I tucked you into bed and took myself off to the shower. Held myself in my wet, soapy hand and pretended it was you.’
‘Was I the soap in this scenario?’
‘In my mind, you were in the shower with me. It was your hand wanking me off.’ It’s a recurring fucking theme. Her throat moves as she swallows, her eyes flicking from my face to my crotch. ‘Aye, I’m still hard for you, darlin’.’