By the time myfrittatais ready, it’s eleven o’clock. Theo goes upstairs to rouse Callum and Mabel. A few minutes later, the two teenagers come sloping downstairs, wearing baggy T-shirts and sulky expressions. As they enter the kitchen, the atmosphere changes. Straightaway they’re moaning about being woken up, sleeping badly in the heat, and picking up the odd bite from mosquitoes.
“I don’t know how that happened,” I say. “We mustn’t have closed your nets properly. We’ll have to be extra careful tonight.”
“You know, Archie and I haven’t been bitten at all,” comments Theo. “I think we have different blood groups. You two must take after your mum.”
Callum shoots Theo a look of contempt. “Dad, that is proper out of order.”
“Why do you always have to take it out on Mum?” hisses Mabel.
Theo winces.
I sweep between them and direct everyone to sit down. “We’ve got fresh orange juice and I’ve made afrittata!”
Theo smacks his lips. “Superb!”
Callum eyes thefrittatawarily, as if I’ve just placed a bomb in the center of the table.
“What’s that?” asks Archie, his glasses on the end of his nose.
Theo pushes them up again.
“It’s the Italian version of an omelet, but you bake it in the oven,” I explain.
“What’s in it?” Archie goes on.
“Eggs, onion, spinach,” I say, “and an Italian cheese called ricotta.”
“Amazing!” gushes Theo.
“I don’t like spinach,” Callum announces.
“Me neither,” says Mabel.
“Can’t you give it a try?” pipes Theo. “You might be surprised.”
Mabel looks outraged at this suggestion. “Dad, I’ll vom!”
Theo sighs. “How about you, squirt?” he asks Archie. “Will you try some?”
“Yeah!” says Archie, swinging his little legs excitedly. He pops a forkful in his mouth but grimaces. “Dad, I don’t like it.”
All my earlier happiness trickles away.
“That’s alright!” bursts out Theo. “Well done for trying!” He hands Archie a piece of paper towel so he can spit it out, then tucks into his ownfrittata, closing his eyes as if in ecstasy. “Mmm, this is outstanding!”
But I can tell he’s overcompensating to try and make me feel better.
Oh, why did I go and make a stupidfrittata? Everyone knows kids like bland, unfussy food—not something with spinach and some strange cheese they’ve probably never heard of.
“Gang, I’d like you all to have a glass of orange juice,” Theo orders.
Callum pours some into his glass and examines the contents. “I can’t drink this.” He looks as if he’s spotted scum floating on the surface.
“Why not?” asks Theo.
“It’s got bits in it!”
A frown crosses Theo’s forehead. “Youcandrink it, Cal. You just open your mouth, pour it in and swallow. What you mean is you don’twantto.”
