It was Christmas Eve and all that I had bought for the next day’s celebrations was a frozen turkey. There wasn’t a single carrot or brussel sprout in the house. Tesco would be heaving, and I doubted that the little market up the road would be open. Our unmodernised galley kitchen also added to my woes. How could I possibly cook a decent meal there for K and J?

At least my parents were sorted for the day. They would pop along Kenton Close to see S and S. Although my father’s leg was playing up, they’d still be able to get there by foot – thanks to the Kenton Close moving tarmac road surface.