When Joey said something funny and Dominic kissed him fondly on the forehead, Jenny turned her attention to them. She had never really been in the company of gay men before and she was curious to know certain things. ‘So, what’s it like, being gay?’ she asked.

Dickie, Jenny’s husband, roared with laughter. ‘She isn’t backward in coming forwards my wife, is she?’ he said playfully, slapping Joyce on the bottom as she stood up.

Joey glanced at Dom. Neither of them were particulary taken with Polly’s parents. They’d only met them once before, at Raymond’s wedding, and on that particular occasion, Jenny had got herself so drunk that she’d pissed herself while jigging about on the dancefloor.

‘It’s the same as being straight I suppose, apart from being in love with somebody who’s the same sex as yourself,’ Joey replied.

Dickie, who sounded and laughed like Boycie out of Only Fools and Horses, egged his wife on. ‘Go on, ask ’em more, you know you want to.’

Ignoring the warning looks from her daughter, Jenny continued to be nosy. ‘But it’s not the same, is it? I mean, I don’t let my Dickie stick it up my dirt-box even though the crafty sod did try it in his younger years.’

Dickie was laughing uncontrollably and holding his sides. When he married his Jenny, he married the funniest woman ever to walk the earth.

‘I’m gonna help Mum bring the dessert in,’ Raymond said, embarrassed. He didn’t want to stick up for Joey in case he upset Polly’s parents and, unlike Eddie, he’d never really got his head around Joey being gay.

‘I’ll help you,’ Polly offered, absolutely mortified.

Jenny topped her glass up again and smiled at Joey. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘Does what hurt?’ Joey asked, getting more annoyed by the second.

‘You know, when you shove it up one another’s dirt-boxes?’

Dickie burst out laughing again.

Joey was furious. He stood up and urged Dominic to do the same. ‘Come on, let’s go. We don’t have to sit here listening to homophobic imbeciles like these two. Let’s go to my dad’s house.’

Not used to seeing Joey lose his temper, Dominic glared at Jenny and Dickie and followed his partner out of the room.

Over in Holloway, Frankie and Babs were sitting at a big table with paper hats on their heads and had just finished their Christmas dinner.

‘Weren’t bad for prison food, was it?’ Babs said enthusiastically.

Frankie turned her nose up. It was edible, but wasn’t a patch on the Christmas dinners her mum used to cook.

‘Your stalker’s staring at you again,’ Babs whispered in Frankie’s ear.