Jimmy Murray looked at his daughters: Bernadette pushed her pork chop around the plate with a fork while Frances kept her head bent over the table and shoved pieces of meat into her mouth faster than she could chew. If Jimmy had been sullen at the table growing up he’d have been knocked across the room with one well-aimed smack from his father’s hand. He wouldn’t have stomped out of the house, or leaned on his elbows, shovelling food into his mouth.
“Slow down!” Jimmy placed his hand on Frankie’s arm.
She raised her head and said, with her mouth full, “I’m hungry.”
Bernadette snorted.
“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Jimmy said.
“A wild animal has to eat quickly or it will perish,” Frankie answered.
“Well good thing you’re a tame girl then. Finish one bite before you start the n
