‘If it’s the codeine left over from your root canal, she has to share,’ Manny said, pulling a brand-new black hoodie over his antlers.
‘If you’re very nice to her, perhaps she’ll let you have a go with it,’ Dad replied with a wink. ‘I read an article inThe Lawyermagazine that said Austin, Rhodes & Rollins gave them to all their partners last Christmas. It only seemed right that you should have one too.’
Ignoring the unpleasant sinking sensation in my stomach that came along with any mention of my job, I pasted a smile on my face and focused on tearing away the wrapping paper. What could it be? Bubble bath? A silk dressing gown? A weighted blanket so heavy it would pin me to the settee and trap me in their house forever?
No.
Oh no.
It was not any of those things.
Holding the box at arm’s length, I looked up at my dad, horrified.
‘Oh, you lucky girl,’ Manny gushed, snatching the box out of my hands. ‘Father Christmas brought you a vibrator!’
‘What are you on about? It’s the Gen 2 Cordless Personal Wonder Wand!’ Dad replied, grabbing it away from him as I sat frozen in shock. ‘It’s a massager not a vibrator!’
‘No, Uncle Steve,’ Manny said, shaking his head. ‘I’m both sorry and delighted to say you’ve bought your daughter a vibrator. And a good one as well, from the looks of it, very nice.’
‘It’s amassager,’ Dad repeated as he read the back of the box, the look on his face less certain now. ‘Seehere? Three speed settings, four massage patterns.Massage, Emmanuel!’
But my cousin was unmoved in his ruling.
‘Yes, in that it massages vaginas,’ he replied. ‘No judgement here, she’ll get a lot more use out of this than that salad spinner she got from Aunt Gloria.’
Dad tore open the box, removing the ‘massage wand’ from the packaging and wielded it over his head like a sex-toy-sceptre. ‘They had them onThis Morning!’ he bellowed. ‘They don’t have vibrators onThis Morning! Come here, Gwen, let me show you—’
‘Steve!’ Mum barked as I threw myself behind her, Manny rolling onto his back and hooting with laughter. ‘Stop trying to vibrate our daughter!’
‘It’s a back massager,’ Dad said one last time, staring forlornly at the massage wand and putting two and two together until he had no choice but to come up with ‘sex toy’. ‘You’ve all got dirty minds, that’s the problem here.’
‘Thank you, Dad, I’m sure it’s brilliant,’ I told him, gingerly taking the offending article out of his hands and holding it with the very tips of my fingers. ‘And you know, my shoulders have been playing up, I absolutely need this.’
‘Too right you do,’ Manny commented, wiping tears out of his eyes.
‘Shut up,’ I replied sweetly. ‘Thank you, Dad.’
‘Right, that’s presents done for another year,’ Mum said with a smile so tight I was worried her face might snap. ‘Let’s get all of this tidied up before Cerys and her lot get here. Gwen, maybe you should put your presents in your room?’
She pulled a bin bag out of thin air like a sad magician, scooping up all the shiny, glittery wrapping paper and stuffing it deep inside the black hole of the plastic bag.
‘Itisa bloody back massager,’ Dad grumbled as he disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on again, the official gesture of a broken man.
Everyone knew Christmas proper didn’t start until Nan arrived. Just before twelve, Myfanwy James floated into the kitchen on a cloud of Chanel No. 5 and offered a flawlessly powdered cheek to Mum, then Manny, then me and finally, my dad. I hid a smile as she looked him up and down. Dad immediately and without a word of dissent tucked his loose shirt tails into his trousers.
Oh to wield such power.
‘The turkey smells lovely, Bronwyn,’ Nan said, Manny helping her out of her coat as she scanned the kitchen for invisible transgressions. ‘What time did you put it in?’
‘Half past seven.’ Mum dabbed her brow with a gravy-covered tea towel. ‘I’m basting every forty minutes, I’ll have it out to rest in half an hour.’
‘What kind of potatoes have you done?’
‘Mashed and roast.’
‘And did you get the vegetables from Reg? I told him to keep some to one side for you. I know you usually get yours from thesupermarket.’
Somewhere out there, I was certain Mr Sainsbury’s sphincter had just clenched and he didn’t know why.