Page 146

Then he realised Laura had bought organic vegetables from the farm down the road and they were covered in mud and rotten bits.

He stopped humming ‘Joy to the World’ and started trying to de-mud the veg with his electric sander.

Then Daisy pulled the tree over and Callum jumped on it.

Brandi and Mum had to serve in the pub between 12pm and 2pm, and got drunk on port and Red Bull.

But it was all okay in the end.

Christmas lunch, as usual, was out of Dad’s 1970s cookbook ‘Frugal Meals’ – bronzed turkey, little sausages in bacon, roast potatoes, parsnips and Brussels sprouts.

Dad hates ‘all this Jamie Oliver splash of this and that nonsense’, and measured everything so our plates looked identical.

Two slices of turkey breast, three potatoes, two parsnips, six Brussels sprouts and 200ml of gravy each.

As usual, Mum moaned about ‘pathetic portion sizes’ and ‘why not just serve me a big plateful and then I won’t have to get up?’

Dad smiled at her adoringly and madehisusual Christmas speech about how he loved Mum more every year.

Ate lots. Drank lots. Nice day.

Saturday December 26th

Boxing Day

Blurrg.

Lovely fizzy Christmas feeling all gone. Just tidying up wrapping paper and feeling fat.

Zachary’s back from Africa today.

He and Laura are taking a woodland walk. Meaning I have no one sensible to talk to.

Althea is still with her mum in the Caribbean. They go every year and have a barbeque on the beach.

She’s sent me a postcard of a Rasta man drinking Red Stripe. It says, ‘Enjoy bronchitis suckers!’

Sunday December 27th

Dad is forcing us to eat Christmas leftovers.

So far today we have eaten:

Turkey and Brussels sprouts omelette

Turkey and Brussels sprouts sandwiches

Turkey and sliced Brussels sprouts on crisp breads with mayonnaise.

By teatime, Mum said she was ‘sick of bloody turkey’ and wanted to throw all the leftovers out. But Dad gave her a lecture about wasting food and starving children.

He boiled the turkey carcass and made a disgusting soup.

When the soup was ready, the whole kitchen smelt like dead animal. Dad finally admitted he was ‘sick of bloody turkey too’, so we ended up getting fish and chips.

Monday December 28th

Althea got back today. She called wanting to know if I needed moral support for the Dalton New Year’s Eve Ball.