Jessica giggled as Eddie leaped on top of her. ‘Be quiet, Ed. I don’t want me mum and dad to hear us.’

‘Well, in that case, I’ll make as much fucking noise as possible,’ Eddie told her laughing.

Unable to put up with Joyce’s snoring any longer, Stanley decided to get up and have a shower. At home, he and his wife slept in separate bedrooms. When they stayed at Jessica’s, they were forced to share, unfortunately.

Not wanting to wake Joyce up, Stanley decided to tiptoe towards the en-suite bathroom in the dark. Seconds later, he caught his leg on the chair and fell flat on his face.

Joyce woke with a fright and switched on the light. ‘What are you doing, you senile old goat?’ she screeched at him.

Stanley stood up. ‘And a happy Christmas to you too, dear,’ he said, slamming the bathroom door.

After making love to his wife, Eddie had a quick shower and went downstairs to make breakfast. Smoked salmon and scrambled eggs washed down with a glass of champagne was a Christmas-morning ritual. The festive season was the one time of the year when Eddie mucked in with the cooking to give his long-suffering wife a break.

‘Morning, Stanley. Do you fancy some smoked salmon and scrambled eggs?’ he asked.

Stanley pulled a face. ‘Makes me feel ill, that bleedin’ salmon. Ain’t got any bacon, have you?’

Eddie smiled as his father-in-law shuffled into the living room. Poor old Stanley had never been high up in the class stakes, bless him.

The twins ambled downstairs as the rest of the household were eating. ‘Where’s ours?’ Frankie said, annoyed that no one had called them.

Eddie chuckled. ‘Go and make something yourself, you lazy pair of sods.’

Jessica put on the Christmas CD and began to sort through the many presents under the tree.

‘Do we have to listen to this rubbish, Mum? Can’t we put on some house music or something?’ Frankie complained.

‘No, this is staying on,’ Jessica said, grinning at Eddie. Jess was so excited about their baby plans, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was the best Christmas present Eddie could have given her.

As all the gifts were being opened, Eddie studied his son. Joey was nothing like Gary and Ricky at all. Dressed in bleached jeans with a pink jumper, he looked and acted like a poof. Even the way he opened his gifts was done in a feminine way; he kept squealing like a fucking girl. Eddie sighed. Thank Christ Joey had brought a couple of girlfriends home earlier this year. Eddie was relieved that his son was actually into birds, as over the years he’d had his doubts. Can you imagine? Eddie Mitchell’s son, the poof: he’d never have lived that one down.

‘This is for you, Dad. It’s from me and Joey,’ Frankie yelled, handing him a present.