‘Thank you, darling. Wipe your chin, pet, you’ve got gravy running down it.’ Esther handed her granddaughter a paper napkin. ‘Grandad, will you make a lake for me?’ Five-year-old Ellie nudged her grandfather in the ribs. ‘Of course I will. Give me your plate.’ Liam smiled down at his youngest granddaughter and felt a wave of contentment. He loved when Olivia and her young family spent an afternoon with them. It was like the house breathed life again as childish voices filled the air and laughter and chat and their happy singing and innocent joyfulness infused the bricks and mortar. He made a hollow in Ellie’s creamy mash and built up the sides so that it looked like the crater of a volcano, before pouring in some more dark, rich, aromatic gravy. ‘Now tuck into that, and it will make you big and strong,’ he urged. ‘And don’t mess,’ warned her mother, as Ellie splashed her spoon into it. ‘Hurry up, everyone, so we can start the puddings.’ Kate was shovelling her dinner into her mouth.
What do You think about Coming Home For Christmas?
