Wednesday Words – Widows on WhatsApp

Anne   last seen today 10.54

Sorry missed your message earlier, what a day, has Poppy recovered?

Book Worms

Yup, done the library survey, haven’t read the book yet, might be late Friday, blood test.

Anne    last seen today 15.33

That’s a relief, no stitches then? What sort was the other dog?

Cousin Chat

Oh what a wonderful place, pity you only had three hours ashore. Not surprised you got lost with 3,500 on board. So did you find out how he died? Sounds like a scene from one of your novels.

Cousin Chat

Natural causes, never mind, probably be another SD before your seven weeks are up. Bit of a waste getting the helicopter out to the Antarctic.

Family Forum

If I suddenly drop dead I promised Linda the plant in the dining room. The individual lemon cheesecakes in the fridge were on special offer, in case you look in the fridge and think I’m greedy.

Family Forum

No, I’m feeling fine, just testing to see if I get any response. Going to live to a hundred to annoy you all. But just in case there’s a new felt pen under the fridge and brand new secateurs in the garden, really annoyed to lose those. List of lost items getting quite long, treasure hunt for you all when I’m gone.

Anne   last seen today 16.43

It cost that much? Good thing you had insurance. Would never have imagined a Pomeranian could cause so much damage. Which reminds me, I was round next door and she had spotted a big mouse in the back garden, worried Tilly would catch it… at that very moment Tilly emerged from the flower bed triumphantly shaking her head with the dead mouse clamped in her delicate jaws! Now she’s upset her miniature dachshund is a murderer!

Polly  last seen today 16.53

Don’t worry too much, perhaps it would be better if you didn’t look at your fitwatchthingy.

Polly last seen today   17.05

What should your resting heart rate be?

Lizzie  last seen today 17.23

Oh no, did you call 111? Where’s Tom?

Lizzie last seen  today 17.25

I forgot he was away, I’m sure you’ll manage fine. I had to cope with four of you when Dad was away.

Jack     last seen today 17.27

Okay, Facetime on Sunday.

Polly   last seen today 17.53

What a catastrophe, Pyrex does shatter in a thousand pieces. Have you got any spare dinners in the freezer?

Polly   on line 17.59

Not surprised your heart rate has gone up. Bare feet? Oh dear, my mother used to tell this story about getting a sliver of glass in her foot, then years later her finger swelled up and the splinter popped out! Or was it the other way round, anyway, it didn’t do her any harm.

Jack   last seen today 18.53

Don’t forget we’re six hours ahead now its BST.

Magic Pen  19.00

What was the homework?

Magic Pen   19.01

You don’t remember either Jill

Magic Pen   19.03

Won’t you, that’s a pity. Don’t worry, everybody has stents put in these days.

Sally    last seen today 19.10

Well done, can’t wait to see the pictures, great way to celebrate your seventieth and you really made it to the top, with Ron’s ashes!

Family Forum     19.30

Big news, your uncle has booked his holiday.

Family Forum   19.46

No he’s staying in a hotel than goodness. Yes we are ALL going to meet up with him. Yes I do remember he never bought you as much as an ice cream, his mind was on higher things.

Family Forum    19.50

Must be thirty years, no I’m sure he hasn’t been thrown out of the monastery, perhaps it’s his health, don’t suppose health care is good on his remote Tibetan mountain.

Magic Pen   20.08

 Thanks Dave   ‘Imagine a What’sAp conversation’ …  How on earth am I going to write that?

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Plastic

It slipped out of my hands and onto the tiled floor, silver splinters slithered in all directions. I was devastated, in its frozen state it had cracked, my favourite. I closed the freezer door, my plastic box collection was dwindling rapidly.

I posted a picture with a sad emoji on our Facebook page Post Plastic. Comments were mixed.

‘First World problems, I wish I had any left overs to put in the freezer.’

‘Why don’t you try those waxed cloth wraps, they are a life saver.’

‘But not much good for a litre of homemade soup’ I retorted.

‘Just make what you need.’

‘I am trying to save gas by batch cooking.’

Later I was battling to get the children ready for the shopping expedition.

‘Kids, have you all got your containers?’

They grumbled all the way up the road, especially when they saw the long queues outside ‘Weigh and Save’ and ‘Tap and Top Up’.

‘Nothing wrong with a bar of soap, we haven’t got enough containers for non essentials.’

There was a cry of horror from one of the vats, it looked like a battle scene, someone had dropped their glass jug of tomato sauce, a luxury most of us were doing without. My neighbour joined us in the queue.

‘We’re 759th on the waiting list.’

The total ban on plastic had repercussions most of us had not imagined. There was a chronic shortage of glass bottles and jars as they were requisitioned and a shortage of milk as cows had to be milked by hand, or so we were told. I had no idea how milking parlours worked or why they needed plastic.

‘What are you getting Robby for his birthday?’

‘It’s a nightmare at the hospital, I dropped a glass syringe and it shattered. I was not popular. Such a shortage they are talking about reusing them.’

‘Are you going to wickerwork this evening?’

‘Oh, here’s Carrie, did you hear about her poor mother?’

Tuesday Tiny Tale 566 – Happy Febmas

Happy Febmas everyone, how long is it since we were all together? Are you glad to be back in the country Danny, back to civilisation?

Is that what you call it? Thank goodness I renewed my contract.

But I thought…

I don’t know how you live with your conscience, raking in all that money in a repressive regime while their citizens suffer.

Ahhem how was your holiday Lydia?

Remind me not to listen to Charles next time he suggests an adventure holiday. I’ve never been so cold in my life.

What did you expect at base camp darling?

For the money we paid, a lot more than a frozen solid tent.

Some of us can’t even afford a holiday to Bognor, mortgage and buying food…

You’ll be glad in the long run son, your mother and I never had a penny to spend on ourselves.

But you were happy ha ha…

Yes we were, we had fun with you all when you were young and you never went hungry like those poor families on television.

Humm, they just need to get a job and learn to cook proper meals like Mum did.

Not that simple Danny.

Let’s dwell on more cheerful things. Isn’t Jodie’s news wonderful.

What news?

The baby of course.

 BABY!

I thought you knew, Danny.

Obviously not. How on earth did that happen? I thought you were with Annya?

I am.

Baby? I thought Jodie was a, you know, is she better now, got herself married?

Oh are you awake Aunty?

I thought you said Aunty Mable had no idea what’s been going on for the last five years.

Ssh, she has moments of lucidity.

Usually at the worst moment.

Annya and I really wanted to have a baby.

 Don’t you need a chap for that, or did you get an anonymous donor?

Remember Joseph at school? He’s been wonderful and so thrilled to get the chance to be a father.

At last we get to be grandparents.

Not actually biological grandparents, but it will be just like the real thing.

What do you mean?

We used Annya’ egg, she couldn’t mess around being pregnant with her work.

My Arthur wasn’t up to it, that’s why we didn’t have children.

Oh Aunty that’s sad, did you want them?

Always used to blame the woman in those days, no such thing as low sperm count then. Though in our case Arthur just wasn’t interested in that sort of thing.

Wel, well family secrets coming out. Was he gay?

How should I know, we didn’t talk about that stuff.

Anyway, nothing wrong with my sperm count, but Avril and I have made a conscious decision not to have brats and I can’t think why Jodie would go to all that trouble to have one.

I didn’t expect any support from you Danny, after all, you did break the leg off my baby doll, that’s why I didn’t bother telling you.

You always bring that up, it was an accident.

No it wasn’t, you were always breaking our toys.

And stealing my Lego.

What about you Scot, are you still seeing Kamala, we thought you might have invited her here.

No, yes, I mean yes Kamala and I are an item and no I didn’t invite her as I didn’t want to put her through this. I knew exactly what it would be like.

Tuesday Tiny Tale 300 – Phone Call

Hello Mum.

Felicity?

Yes, who else would it be, why didn’t you answer before?

When?

Half an hour ago and several times before that.

I did get some caller unknown calls so of course I ignored them. I only answered this time accidentally. Why aren’t you calling from your phone?

Because I lost my phone, didn’t you get my text messages?

Was that really you, I thought it was one of those scams, I’m not daft. I’m certainly not going to be like those old people on You and Yours who lose all their money.

I wasn’t asking you for any money.

Good, because I’m certainly not sending any money to Morrocco. So are you enjoying your holiday?

I was till I Iost my phone.

Where did you lose it?

If I knew that I would probably have found it by now.

Where are you calling from?

I’m borrowing someone else’s phone so I can’t be long.

Whose?

A new friend.

Where’s Caroline?

Gone off on a trip with some bloke.

What, so you’re all on your own?

Mother, I’m 39, you don’t have to worry about me.

I obviously do if you’ve managed to lose your phone.

I just need you to go on line and get hold of my bank.

Can’t you phone them?

No, all that security stuff is on my phone.

I told you it’s not safe to do all your banking on your phone. How am I going to contact your bank, they closed my branch.

You just go on line.

But I don’t do on line banking for myself, let alone for anyone else and they would be suspicious. Come to think of it, how do I know this is you?

Of course it’s me, I’m your daughter.

But it could be one of those AI thingys cloning your voice…

Tuesday Tale – Dream House

I ignored the large envelope, some charity begging letter, it was us that needed charity.  It soon disappeared beneath lunch boxes and homework books. Our tiny kitchen was always cluttered. I opened the back door and the children rushed upstairs to open all the bedroom windows. They knew the drill, at least this unseasonably warm September made it easier to air the house out from the smell of damp and mould.

It was five o’clock already, we had stopped at the swings to get some fresh air before being cooped up for the evening. Time to get on with dinner. I checked their homework books and started clearing space to cook. The colourful envelope had written in large letters across the top, DO NOT throw away, contains important information for the addressee. Definitely rubbish. I put it aside to read the more important looking letter in a white envelope from a solicitor?

I ripped it open, what on earth could it… notice our tenancy would not be renewed… my mouth went dry, I leaned against the narrow work top. We had assumed we would renew our tenancy again next month. That wasn’t the only bad news today, the announcement that the Wilko chain of stores could not be saved had been the only topic of conversation at work that morning. Hope was no longer an option for we staff.

When Mark walked through the door I could not read the expression on his face.

‘Do you want the good news or the bad news first.’

‘Bad’ I replied automatically.

‘Derek has had a heart attack.’

‘Oh that’s a shock, is he dead?’

‘Not quite, intensive care.’

I was relieved on two counts, the bad news wasn’t ours and at least Derek was not dead.

‘So what is the good news?’

‘I’m taking over his job, supervisor at last.’

‘Oh great’ I tried to sound enthusiastic, Mark’s good news cancelled out by me losing my job and of course The Letter. I grabbed it off the counter top, knocking the junk mail envelope to the floor. Dream House in big letters on the back, probably full of raffle tickets I could not afford to buy…

‘Cheer up Chelle, I heard about Wilkos, we knew it was coming, my pay rise will help till you find something else.’

I held out the dreaded white envelope but at that moment the children came rushing down the stairs and the door bell began ringing frantically.

‘I’ll go, if that’s Maggie I need the money she owes me, but I don’t need her coming in for a chat.’

I opened the door to be confronted by a young man and woman dressed very smartly.

‘Good evening, Mrs Michelle Gallager?’

‘Erm yes…’

‘We have some very good news for you.’

‘I’m sorry, I have my own beliefs and I’m trying to cook dinner.’

‘No, no we’re not bringing you news of eternal life, something much better. You have won your dream home. Did you get our letter today?’

‘Mark, Mark, bring that letter from the kitchen.’

They waved identity cards in front of me, but I was not going to let them in, this was obviously some kind of scam or trick, perhaps we were being filmed for reality TV.

It was not a scam, not as far as we could tell. Mark and I sat up after the children were in bed tapping on the iPad, checking the charity running the competition and the solicitor assigned to us. I go in for lots of competitions; I once won a family ticket to a third rate theme park and another time a year’s supply of washing powder that gave our youngest a rash. I didn’t recall the dream house, the second prize was a holiday to Bognor Regis, maybe that’s what had drawn me in. Apparently I had neglected to tick the no publicity box, but they were holding off on that for a week until we had decided what to do. What was there to decide, the house looked fabulous and right on the seashore.

‘…and we can sell it and buy our own sensible dream house where we want to live.’

I tuned back in to what Mark was saying.

‘Sell… no it’s our chance to have a new life.’

‘Chelle, we still have to eat and pay the bills and there’s my job. We’ve never been north of Watford and we know nothing about Northumberland.’

‘Room for relatives to stay, fresh air and scenery and the children can have a dog and I can get a job in a seaside café, it will be one long holiday…’

On Sunday we travelled up in a mini bus with ‘our team’ to visit the house. They looked shattered by the time we got there, excited children munching through happy meals at motorway services and talking non stop on the long drive ‘Will it have a drawbridge… and horses and a helicopter pad?’

It was a dream house, exotic looking at the front with picture windows upstairs and downstairs at the back, looking over the sea on a lovely evening. The children rushed round screaming with delight, slipping on polished floors and turning taps on in the various bathrooms. The team seemed eager to get away.

‘Now we will leave you alone for a week, it’s fully furnished as you see, bed linen and everything provided and a week’s worth of food. Don’t rush into any decisions, but we will be back next Sunday with the film crew.’

Mark and I stood on the balcony of the master bedroom looking at the stars. We could hear the children still chattering, faintly as their bedrooms were at the other end of the house.

 ‘I am so glad we haven’t told anybody yet Mark. Let’s enjoy this week, who cares if the children are missing school.’

‘We’ll have to watch them on that open staircase and that information brochure says to watch out for rip tides.’

The next day the sun shone on the sea and we went exploring. Glorious sand dunes and rolling heath, no sign of civilisation. I loved it.

‘Mummy, when can we go to the shops?’

‘We don’t need anything yet.’

‘But I want to go to the pet shop, you said we could have a puppy.’

‘…and you said I could have a pony.’

On Tuesday we realised there was no Broadband. On Wednesday it started raining, by Thursday most of the food had run out, our team obviously did not know how much food a family eats and we still had not found the shops. On Friday there was a power cut and the cinema sized television did not work. At least on Saturday the sun came out and we found a field of sheep and walked along the shore till we came to a fence that said Ministry of Defence Keep Out.

‘Daddy, can we go home now?’ said our youngest that evening.

On Sunday we waited anxiously for the charity team to return.

  

Saturday Short Story – Family Fun

Karly King was not looking forward to her ninth birthday, too many presents and a big party at the local bowling alley. She didn’t even like bowling and everyone would be watching as she sent the glittering pink junior bowl straight into the gutter.

Everyone was up, she could hear her brothers fighting already and Dad was yelling Breakfast Readeee. Karly wondered what concoction he had come up with today; he was having a vegan phase, ever conscious of the need for new challenges. Her mother was exempt from the vegan menus as she was pregnant.

Breakfast in pyjamas as it was her birthday, new pyjamas chosen to look good in the photos. Her parents had gone completely over the top as usual and the big family kitchen was adorned with number nine balloons and Happy Birthday Girls banners everywhere. Why did she have to share her birthday, how she longed to be an only child. Out of habit she put on her video face and smiled.

‘Last one down as usual Karly, just like when you were born. Happy Birthday Darling, our little miracle.’

The breakfast was quite nice. Karly smiled to herself as she spotted the flattened ‘Happy Earth Breakfast’ delivery box peeking out of the recycling bin.

‘Lovely breakfast Daddy.’

She would not give the game away, everything in her family must appear real and of course HAPPY.

At school other children envied her family, either wanting to be best friends or teasing them mercilessly. Karly only had one real friend, shy little Betty who lived in a pokey flat with her abandoned mother. She loved visiting Betty as she was treated like a normal child and neither mother nor daughter asked her how the rest of her family were. Betty was too scared to go round to Karly’s house and Karly guessed her protective mother would not let her anyway. The rest of the family did not even know Betty existed, everyone assuming Karly was with one of the others if they noticed she wasn’t at home.

At the breakfast table everyone was debating who would do best at the bowling alley. They had all been practising so they would look good on the day. Her sisters were arguing as to who was going to wear which colour to the party. Identical outfits, lurid leggings and jazzy tops with matching patterns, but each a different colour scheme, had been made by their personal designer. If Karly ever tried to complain about the family lifestyle she would be reminded it was their living and how envious other girls were and how Karly would not like being poor.

It was not easy being a sextuplet, especially in the middle of a huge family whose lives had been documented since before the girls were born, with a few changes of television channel along the way. Six Children Plus Six More had been a big hit, with viewers fascinated how parents who already had six children had found themselves expecting sextuplets. Then before interest could wain, twin boys were on the way. The six girls were Mrs Knight’s only caesarean delivery; quintuplets had been expected, but Karly had been found lurking at the back, the tiniest of the bunch and not expected to live, adding gravitas to the series.

Mr and Mrs Knight gazed lovingly at their huge family, they did love all their children, even if they couldn’t remember their names. It was not easy competing with all the other Big Family documentaries, Twenty Two Children and Counting,  Twins Every Time, Tripple Tripple Trouble and Conjoined, The Family That Sticks Together. So it seemed natural to keep having more babies and thinking up more domestic dramas. It was unfortunate that the new headmaster at the primary school had banned cameras; rather hypocritical as the production company had given a lot of books, musical instruments and other extra curricular items to the school. But at least the first programme in  series ten would have the annual drama of the birthday party, the Hollywood Bowl taken over completely by the family with two guests for each child.  Excitement on the lanes would be followed by the ‘Fantastic Feast’ then over to the park for the girls’ birthday surprise, a pony each.

Birthday Surprise

It’s my third birthday tomorrow. I don’t know why I suddenly had to come and stay with Granny or where Mummy and Daddy have gone. Maybe they went to buy my birthday present, maybe they have gone to get my puppy. I really want a puppy like Jacob has, a Doodle puppy. I keep asking, but Mummy and Daddy just smile and ask me if I would like a brother to play with instead. I said no, I would rather have a puppy.

Will they be back in time for my birthday?

Granny’s taking me home. We stopped at the petrol station to buy flowers for Mummy. I don’t know why, it’s not her birthday.

Daddy opens the door with his smiley face on.

‘Guess what Luke, we have a really big surprise for your birthday.’

Hurrah, I’m going to get a puppy, a big puppy like Jacob’s. I rush into the living room. Mummy’s lying on the sofa in her dressing gown, maybe we’re having a pyjama day, but I’ve got my clothes on, Granny never lets me have pyjama days. The puppy must be in the garden.

‘Happy birthday darling, aren’t you going to come and give me a cuddle?

Granny’s peering into a big flowery bag next to the sofa. She has a silly grin on her face.

‘Don’t you want to see your birthday surprise Luke’ says Mummy.

‘Is it a Doodle puppy?’

‘Why don’t you have a look.’

Daddy, Granny and Mummy all have their arms round me, I nearly fall into the bag.

Inside is a blanket, is the puppy wrapped up? There is something pink, a round pink blobby thing.  It’s a squidgy face, yuk…

‘It’s your new baby brother.’

WHAT! They said would I like a brother to play with, they didn’t say he would be a baby.

‘Have I got a puppy as well?’

‘No Darling, we’ll all be too busy looking after the baby to have a puppy yet. Perhaps when you’re both big boys.’

‘I am a big boy, you said I would be a big boy when I’m three.’

‘Do you want to help choose his name’ says Daddy.

‘No, he doesn’t need a name yet.’

The squidgy baby is making a noise, ow, my ears. Everyone is laughing except me and making a big fuss as if crying is clever. What is Mummy doing now?

‘Look, Mummy’s giving baby his breakfast.’

What sort of breakfast is that, wouldn’t he rather have Cheerios. I wonder if I’m going to get any other presents, like Lego. I wonder if Jacob would swap. Perhaps his mummy would like a baby and we could have his puppy.

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Grandma’s Birthday Bash

Grandma’s Big Ate O  WhatsApp group

Anyone heard from Josh?

Am I booking the house?

Yes, all agreed on the date, Gma’s actual bday?

No, that’s when we’re in Portugal.

If I’m doing photo book send me nice pix of Xmas with smiling kids.

No, haven’t heard from Josh.

And smiling adults.

But not the one with Lucy unwrapping sex toys!!!

Sending pic with everyone round the table.

Oh I look awful. Don’t use.

I am not even in it, was in the kitchen… all day.

Who took pic of baby on Great Gma’s lap?

Josh I think.

Have we heard from him yet?

Send the link to this place pls.

Did, four days ago, ‘The Greenhouse….’

All glass?

Not that sort, environmentally friendly, green roof, grey water tanks, straw walls.

Hope a wolf doesn’t come along…

Oh that sounds excellent, get some ideas for our self build.

Y’re not still on about that?

Yes, can’t wait to tell everyone…

If we’re only there for a few days, doesn’t matter what it’s made of.

Thought we were booking for a week.

We can only do four nights, ballet and horse riding.

I want a week and so does Mum, it is her birthday treat.

Who’s working out the cost share?

Josh.

Anyone heard from him?

Thought Gma was paying for it.

Did you get another date for your operation Tam?

No, but let’s get on with booking.

Did they decide where your Danny was on the spectrum?

Not yet.

Are you bringing the dogs?

Yes.

And their containers?

Crates, yes.

What about the little ones?

We could put them in the crates ha ha…

We need four more to book the air rifles.

Do they do archery at that place?

Yup and human hamster balls.

What do they do for great grannies?

Garden shop and tea room.

Baz’s girlfriend is allergic.

To plants?

No, dogs.

Tyson won’t eat my baby will he?

Might do, ha ha, certainly won’t realise your handbag fur ball is also a dog.

Fur baby, fur balls are what cats have.

Did we decide whether to get Gma another cat?

Josh was looking into rescue cats, anyone heard from him yet?

Haven’t you lot got beds to go to. Let’s finish sorting this tomorrow if we hear from Josh.

Okay, but who’s taking Gma?

No room in our car.

We’re coming on the train.

We’re bringing the van.

I’m in the opposite direction, thought Josh was bringing her.

Has Josh been in touch with anyone?

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Birthday Girl

Finally the day has arrived, twenty one at last and I am going to have a big party. All the family are coming of course and some of my best friends, not all of them alas. Covid wreaked havoc with our social lives, but now it’s 2024 I think we have put that behind us. Of course the planet is still hovering on the brink of disaster, but hey let’s forget about that for one day, I’m going to have breakfast and open all my cards.

We’re having the do at that new hotel, very posh and a nice place to stay for those who have travelled. Dinner and dancing after, but informal as there will be lots of children. I wanted everyone to come and the visitors will span a century, can you believe that. The newest baby has been named Daphne after the amazing aunt who has just notched up one hundred years.

Here I am then, ready to greet all the guests. What nobody knows yet is that Charles and I are going to announce our engagement tonight, that will be a surprise for quite a few guests; all part of the excitement, life doesn’t get much better than this.

That meal was wonderful and now I must make my little speech before we release the children to let off steam.

Thank you everyone for joining me to celebrate my twenty first, it’s so wonderful to see everyone together after those Covid years and to be here with five generations of my family. I do have a little surprise for you. We have not known each other very long but Charles and I have decided to get engaged and we plan to have the wedding very soon, we don’t want to wait as he is ninety one. But Charles wants to add a few words… ‘

‘Well I never thought I would be getting married again, especially to a girl of twenty one, but that is the advantage of courting a young lady who was born in a leap year, 29th February 1940. How many great grandchildren we have between us we have lost count, but it’s wonderful to see both our families here. Here’s to the future.’

Tuesday Tiny Tale -565 – Uncle Brian

It didn’t help that Uncle Brian was six foot four and an ex rugby player. The fact that he had a glorious bass voice that sent ladies aflutter was a distinct disadvantage. Perhaps if it had not been the annual family Halloween party we would have taken Brian more seriously. Uncle Brian had always been a joker, so we were used to his larger than life pranks.

When we were young we always went to Uncle Brian and Aunty May’s summer barbeques, but when he and his rugby mates had had a good few bevvies and the ribald jokes started we were quickly rounded up for home time. Once, when we had Granny squashed in the back seat as well, I said ‘Mum, is Uncle Brian very rich?’

Dad laughed. ‘You must be joking.’

‘So why do his friends say he’s well endowed?’

Granny let out a sort of choking sound and Mum shushed me.

The Halloween party was one social occasion my husband did not try to avoid, he said you never knew what was going to happen when my family got together. He certainly wasn’t disappointed this year.

It wasn’t actually Halloween yet, but any time in October was good enough and it was my cousin’s turn to have it at their place. Just about everyone had turned up except Uncle Brian and Aunty May. The children ran around dressed as pumpkins and skeletons and the adults caught up with the gossip. We were just murmuring that Brian and May were a bit late when the door bell rang and we heard Brian’s loud voice in the hall. When he walked into the sitting room, strangely the first thing I noticed, he had shaved his beard off. The second thing I noticed, he was dressed as a woman; completely, from his high heels to his coiffured hair and perfect make up.

He stood poised elegantly as the room fell silent, we waited for him to laugh, then the children started giggling, but Brian wasn’t laughing. My cousin grinned. ‘Daad it’s not fancy dress, that was last year.’

‘It’s not fancy dress, from now on I’m Bryony.’

Ha ha,’ said his brother ‘next thing you’ll be telling us you’re gay.’

‘Not gay, just in the wrong body, always have been, now the real me has come out.’

‘You mean this isn’t one of your jokes…’ said his daughter tremulously.

‘Nope, no joke, but I’m still your Dad, nothing’s changed.’

I risked a glance at my husband who was relishing every moment and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Have you had it chop…’

I dug him in the ribs and jumped up before he could say any more. I had heard all the programmes, read the magazine articles, I was well up on the LGBTQ scene, I knew what to say. I clasped Uncle Brian’s hand.

Well done, if this is what you want, we can go shopping for clothes together and we’ll support you all the way.’

I paused waiting for him to let out a loud guffaw and say ‘I really fooled you all this time’ but he didn’t.

Then someone else piped up.

‘So where’s Aunty May, just realised she isn’t here.’

‘Ah, erm, well she wasn’t feeling at all well and sends her apologies… Anyway isn’t it time for some food and I must sit down, my feet are killing me.’