CHRISTMAS at number nine

All Phil wanted was a little comfort and joy. Was that too much to hope for?

Annabel squeezed her husband's knee. 'Stop looking so worried. We'll be there soon.'

'Sorry, sweetheart. I can't help wondering what we'll find when we get there.'

Phil's thoughts kept drifting back to the last time they'd spent Christmas with his parents. The house was cold and unwelcoming, with no decorations, not even a tree. They'd had to wear several layers of clothing to keep warm. But it wasn't just that there wasn't enough food. As for drinks, if they hadn't brought some with them, there would only have been the cheapest plonk. His father kept a tight hold of the purse strings.

'Hopefully things will be different this year,' said Annabel.

'Now your mum is on her own.' Phil wasn't so sure. 'They were married for so long, I'm not sure Mum knows how to relax and have fun.' He frowned.

'I hope she hasn't bought me socks again.' 'At least you got a present!' Annabel said with feeling.

At number nine Acacia Avenue, Holly was finding it hard not to giggle. In less than an hour, her son and daughterin-law would arrive.