Feck was a bad word. Marti knew it was how the Irish said the f-word because Dad had told him. Dad said feck wasn’t really as bad as the f-word but when Marti said it he still got asked if he wanted his mouth washed out with soap for using a bad word. Marti heard Mam say the feck word and then she said bastard, which was another bad word. He knew if he had said bastard it would be the mouth washed out with soap for sure, and maybe even the hot arse. Mam and Dad were fighting again. It was probably all his fault, thought Marti. He wished he had never seen the blue ten dollar bill.
There was a big silence and Marti wondered had the fighting stopped, and he stuck his head out into the hall to look. The kitchen door was closed but there was a little gap where he could see in. Dad was staring
