Christmas passed the same way as it usually did. Maggie and John steamed away in the kitchen preparing various dishes of various origin. John had travelled a lot for his job looking at stratum as he became more well known in his field so had taken to quite a few foreign cuisines. Whenever he returned from some prolonged jaunt he would attempt to incorporate said cuisine into the household menu. Maggie, who was both the declared and self declared chef of the house took these bouts with love and lent herself to learn the new recipes to John’s pleasure. They did not last long these bouts and the usual pie and mash or pasta would soon return to the menu yet they did add some exciting dishes to their diet. Unfortunately the loo would be occupied for long stints post said bouts but no one truly complained. Christmas was no exception, and as John had just returned from Fimmvörðuháls in Sweden, they now had Lingonberry jam for the turkey as opposed to cranberry.

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Darius and Joe made to avoid the kitchen as much as possible as they were more of a hindrance than a help but invariably, as the flat wasn’t exactly Buckingham Palace, they would get underfoot and be forced into some chore or rather. Joe was somewhat preoccupied with thoughts on Julia. She was spending her Christmas with her Dad’s family in the country and mentioned she’d rather be in London. Joe read the text with disbelief knowing that her Dad’s family was minted and their place in Essex was beyond any Christmas he could imagine in grandeur. Not that he besmirched his own Christmas, just that he was a realist, and knew they would have a 100ft tree and mulled wine pouring out of their ears. Joe would forever remember this Christmas as being one of his happiest, and looking back, always hoped he could force himself to savour it that little bit more.