‘Merry Christmas, everyone!’ Maddie said as they all sat down to their Christmas dinner. It was like nothing Ruby had ever seen before and she didn’t quite know what to eat first. Her father had never believed in Christmas, saying that it was just an excuse for people to have time off work, so the ones she had known had been frugal. Now she looked in awe at the most enormous goose she had ever seen that took pride of place in the middle of the table, surrounded by all manner of treats. There was a steaming tray of Mrs Petty’s home-made sage and onion stuffing, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes and a large selection of vegetables, as well as a jug of thick gravy.

‘I’ll carve, shall I?’ Mrs Petty, who was looking very nice in her Sunday best dress, began to carve thick slices of goose onto their plates as they all helped themselves to everything else. The sight and the smell of such a feast made Ruby’s stomach rumble in anticipation and yet when she lifted her knife and fork, she found that she could hardly eat anything, for a large lump had formed in her throat as she thought of her mother. It was her first Christmas without her and as wonderful as all this was, in that moment Ruby would have done anything to spend just one more Christmas with the woman who had never shown her anything but love.

As if Mrs Petty had guessed how she was feeling she smiled at her. ‘Come on, bab, there’s trifle or Christmas puddin’ to follow an’ we don’t want it all goin’ to waste now, do we?’

Ruby managed a weak smile and tucked in, and soon she was enjoying it. It would have been very hard for anyone not to as Mrs Petty really was a wonderful cook.

‘I can’t decide whether to ’ave the trifle or the Christmas puddin’,’ Nell mused when they’d finished their dinners.

Mrs Petty chuckled. ‘So ’ave a bit o’ both! It is Christmas after all.’ And with that she began to load Nell’s dish.

‘Phew! I don’t think I shall eat another thing fer at least a month,’ Nell told them when she was done as she rubbed her full stomach.

‘Hm, I’ve heard that before. What yer mean is yer won’t eat another thing till teatime. I sometimes think you must have hollow legs.’ Mrs Petty grinned. ‘An’ yet yer still as thin as a whistle, whereas I only have to look at food to put a pound on. But anyway, if everyone is finished, I reckon it’s time to open us presents. I’ve been waitin’ all mornin’ fer this.’