'This looks nice,' Mum lied as we all squeezed around the table. She'd already spotted the missing stuffing balls and roast potatoes, and I was pretty sure she knew on sight that I'd cheated with the gravy.
'It looks grand.' Dad, bless him, was being honest. He didn't really care what was put in front of him, as long as he could shovel it into his mouth.
'The mash is lumpy.'
I glared at Gideon across the table. He was damn lucky he wasn't within reach of my fork. 'It isn't lumpy. It's textured.'
Gideon ate the mash anyway, though everybody else left it after a polite taste, even Dad, which hurt.
'Shall we pull the crackers before we have the trifle?' Mum asked.
Aubrey, Stephen and I looked at each other with wide eyes. What trifle? There hadn't been any instructions for a trifle.
Had there?
'Don't worry. I bought a ready-made one.' Mum tittered at our aghast faces as she got up to grab the homemade crackers. She distributed them and we turned to our cracker partner to pull them.
'It didn't bang,' Stephen complained. Well, what did he expect?
'I got a spoon.' Gideon held up one of Mum's teaspoons that I'd borrowed for the occasion.
'I got half a packet of Polos.' Mum held up the tube, a frown on her face. 'And they were already my Polos. From my handbag.'
What the hell had they expected? I'd done my best. Ungrateful bastards, the lot of them.