Lamington Thief

Circling like a shark about to attack, Matilda slammed her fist onto the table; right in front of Jarrah's face. "Was it you?" she demanded, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
Jarrah cringed, "Was what me?"
Tear of rage sparkling in her eyes, she bellowed, "Don't tell me it wasn't you who stole my lamington!"
A realisation breath was drawn out of Jarrah, eyes rolling. Now he knew what this was about.
"Don't you roll your eyes at me, ya drongo!" Matilda's eyes almost burst from their sockets. "You snatched it off the kitchen bench, didn't ya!"

Before the phone rang, Matilda had prepared the perfect lamington. It was her own recipe, completed moments before. And she knew from previous experience that it was fair dinkum from its delicious cake to the coconut on top. She could picture herself eating it; knowing the cake was spongey, light and fluffy; moist and cooked to perfection.

Matilda had hovered around the oven, like a mosquito attracted to its prey as they had cooked. Quaking with nerves, she had removed the pair from the oven, and gently lowered the two lamingtons onto the cooling rack. She sighed with relief.

Next, she had carefully prepared the chocolate sauce, stirring the mixture over the stove 35 times a minute, for five minutes; no more, no less. It was the magic number, anything else would ruin the consistency. Sweat broke out of her forehead when she carefully raised the spoon out of the mixture, allowing the silky sauce to drizzle back to its rightful position.

Quivering in anticipation, Matilda then carefully measured coconut into the bowl; no less 100 grams, otherwise she knew the coconut wouldn't fully coat the lamingtons.

Her breath quickened, her heart pumped faster. It had all come down to this. Slowly, she reached out and gently gripped the sponge cake, lifting it towards her; sweat sliding down the back of her neck. She lightly dunked the first lamington under the chocolate mix, so it was completely submerged. Matilda was quivering in anticipation as she raised it from the chocolatey mud. Gently using the tips of her fingers, she rolled it in the coconut, perfectly coating the lamingtons in coconut, then doing the other.

Her shoulders sagged with relief. Sighing heavily, she spread a tablespoon of raspberry jam onto the base of one, gently spooned the already whipped cream on top, and sandwiched it with the other lamington on top. It was done.
That moment the phone rang. Groaning like a grumpy bear, Matilda reluctantly slumped away and answered, and after a reluctant look towards her lamington, ran to give it to her Mum.

On her return it was gone.

"I know you snagged it!" she shouted at her brother.

"I'm dinky-di!" Jarrah retorted. "Why don't ya give a bloke the benefit of the doubt?"

Buster their dog wiped his whiskers against her leg and plopped himself down nearby, prepared to snooze after his tasty snack.

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