The Mince Pie Mix-Up Read Online Free

songs.’
    ‘Three songs? Wow. You’ll soon be a superstar.’ Susan smiled encouragingly at her grandson before turning to Judy. ‘They’ve left the lights until the last minute, haven’t they?’
    ‘They were supposed to be switched on at the beginning of December,’ Judy explained. ‘But vandals nicked the bulbs from the tree and they’ve only just been replaced.’
    Susan gave a tut. ‘Is nothing safe these days? Bulbs!’
    ‘So what songs will you be playing?’ Scott’s grandfather asked. Bernard had been in a band himself in his youth, though it had been the church’s brass band and probably not quite in the same league as his grandson’s.
    ‘We’re playing a couple of Christmas songs. But, like, really cool ones. And then we’re playing a song I wrote with the drummer.’
    ‘Very impressive. It’s a shame your Grandma and I will miss it.’
    ‘At least Dad will be there this time.’ Scott couldn’t quite bring himself to forgive his father for missing his first football match for the Woodgate Juniors. Months had passed but it still stung.
    ‘I only missed one football match.’ Calvin had been caught up with work and he’d made sure he’d been at every one since.
    ‘You missed all of my basketball games.’
    ‘You gave up after three.’
    ‘And you missed my awards ceremony at school.’ Scott believed this was now his trump card for life. Whenever he wanted something, he could always bring out the awards ceremony card to get his way.
    ‘I had a very important meeting at work.’
    ‘Yeah, because everything’s more important than us.’ Scott scraped back his chair, excusing himself with the pretence of needing the loo.
    ‘What’s up with him?’ Calvin asked, watching as his son disappeared from the room with slumped shoulders.
    ‘Think about it, Calvin,’ Judy said.
    Think about what? That his son had turned into a moody teenager? That was hardly his fault, was it?
    Calvin sulked – in Judy’s opinion – for the remainder of the evening, sitting hunched in his seat and giving mumbled, one-syllable answers. For Calvin, he was merely sitting and observing his family, responding when he had something to say rather than wittering on. What was the point of speaking anyway when his words were twisted and made into something else? No, he would keep his gob shut and that way he couldn’t be blamed for anything else.
    ‘Are you going to sulk all night then?’ Judy slipped into the driver’s seat of the car, smiled fixed in place as she waved to her parents on the doorstep, belying the fact that she was livid.
    ‘I haven’t been sulking.’ Calvin was already belted into his seat, arms thumped across his chest and his gaze fixed on the window. The house across from Susan and Bernard’s was decked out like the Blackpool illuminations. It must have bumped their electricity bill up to at least double the normal price. It was a ludicrous waste of time and money in Calvin’s opinion.
    ‘You’re still sulking now.’ Judy sighed. There was no point in having this row. Not when they would be stuck inside the car with the children for the next twenty minutes. ‘Are you buckled in, Charlie? Scott, can you check for me?’
    ‘Just a sec.’ Scott was already engrossed with his DS. His sister’s safety could wait.
    ‘Scott! Now, please.’ Judy snatched her own seatbelt and dragged it across her body. Why was it always
her
who had to drive on occasions such as these? Calvin claimed he didn’t feel like driving after enduring rush hour traffic twice a day already, but what about Judy? She baked and served all day but that didn’t stop her from getting food on the table each evening or picking up after three people who were more than capable of picking up after themselves. Judy suspected it had more to do with the cans of lager Calvin had downed and the whiskey he and Bernard had enjoyed on the sly.
    ‘All right, all right. No need to get all snappy.’ Scott, still clutching his DS,